Thursday, January 19, 2017

Erotic Rope Bondage

I got a real treat the other day. A sweet boy appeared before me, to give himself to me to do with as I wished. He was seeking a form of bondage that is readily available to him in his homeland of Japan, yet not so easy to find here. I was happy to indulge him in my version rope bondage, that has many elements of what he might find at home.


I was impressed with the ease in which he could place his hands behind his back. Many men are stiff in the shoulder area, and can not hold this position very long. He could hold the rope for a long time, which gave me plenty of opportunities to apply other fun sensations.

A tie to the leg allowed me easy access to certain tender spots. I hoisted the leg up through the ring I have hanging from the ceiling.


After awhile, it was time to give him some relief and change things up a bit.


I tied his wrists together in front, then pulled them over his head. I secured the rope around his body to hold him in this vulnerable position. I had him sit cross legged and tied his ankles together. I then pushed his head down, and to my surprise and utter delight, his head sunk all the way to the floor! This is a very difficult tie for most people to endure. I looped the ankle rope around the back of his neck to hold him there, making the tie even more severe. 


I told him he was my captive, my prisoner, and I would place a heavy rock on his back. This caused him to react exactly the way I wanted him to.  I ended up sitting on his back instead.


Before our fun ended, he had to do a bit of foot worship while in that most strict position. 


I just love being creative with my rope. A fellow rope lover is a pure joy to work with.


Tuesday, February 2, 2016

The look in his eyes

I am still aglow from a perfectly wonderful session I had last night. This particular slave lives far away from me, so may only see me on the rare occasion when his grueling job allows him to be in Austin. It had been quite some time since he had seen me, and I was happy to welcome him back. I know that life, with it's many demands, can get in the way of one's pursuit of kinky adventures, so of course I forgave his absence. Well, he had to be punished for it first. He had to earn my forgiveness. 

The session began with the placement of a collar around his neck. I ordered him to remove all of his clothing, then stand for inspection.  The feet are to be placed 18 inches apart, fingers laced behind the head, spine straight, eyes staring straight ahead. I examine every inch of him, slowly, with my eyes and with my fingers. There is nothing hidden from my view, my harsh gaze, searching for imperfections. I am also searching for attributes that I find pleasing, such as the indention near the hip bone, or the treasure trail pattern of hair growth, or the care taken to remove the hair growth.  I enjoy the sight of a naked man before me. I really do. My enjoyment is enhanced by the fact that I am fully clothed and I am in charge, while he is naked and vulnerable. Now the man before me has passed inspection, earning the act of kneeling and placing his forehead on my foot. While in this position, he is reminded of my rules and expectations.

I began by tying his wrists together, then placing them behind his head, elbows bent. I ran the rope around his chest, twice, making a quick harness, then fastened it to the ring hanging from the ceiling overhead. I grabbed both his balls and a hank of cbt cord and proceeded to bind them in a tie designed to lift and separate while stretching the skin so very, very tight. Lovely! I never get bored with cock and ball bondage! I can tie and untie in a variety of ways, adding fun embellishments for hours if the mood strikes. With the slave properly bound, I had some fun with a flogger and a knotted cat'o nine tails. I remembered that he was due a real punishment, so I unfastened him from the ceiling.



I like my punishments to have a bit of ritual. It involves being told that a certain number of strokes will be delivered, and the receiver must thank me and ask for another. At first, I had him kneeling, bent over an ottoman, his hands still tied behind his head. I administered several strokes, then decided in order for him to endure further, harder strokes, it would be necessary to allow him to bring his hands back in front. Now I had him standing, bent at the waist. I chuckled as I remarked that it would be just awful if I were to miss my mark, and hit his dangling balls instead of his butt! I gave him a few more strokes as he thought about this. I liked having his ass up high like this. I wanted it higher, so I told him to get it up as high as he could, on tip toes, while holding his balls with a towel and resting his head on the ottoman. I shouted "Keep that ass up!" I was delighted with the position and proceeded to wallop his ass with gusto. When I was satisfied, I announced that he was forgiven for his long absence and he had also earned the privilege of having eye contact with me until told otherwise.



My motive for the eye contact was so that I could enjoy the look in his eyes while I slowly turned the screws of my ball smashing torture device. I enjoyed watching him struggle with this. I asked him to describe the sensation and he told me that not only did he feel the pain in his balls, but also all the way up his stomach. The more I tightened the screws, the more intense the sensation, and also, the more intense his arousal! I had him hovering there for a good long time. The look in his eyes was quite beautiful. The session continued with more fun, leaving us pretty well spent.

Once our session was over, he continued to please me by taking me to a very fancy restaurant downtown. We had worked up quite an appetite. It felt so nice to wind down this way, with elegant surroundings, sweet live music, perfect food, perfect beverages, and near perfect service from our waiter. I went to sleep last night completely happy and completely satisfied. Well done, slave p.






Thursday, December 10, 2015

Branding the worthy slave

This particular slave had developed a deep and profound trust in me. Our connection has grown over time, and although his visits are spaced several months apart, the bond remains strong. He trusts that I am a sane and reasonable woman, who respects him and accepts his explorations into the universe of kink. Our sessions are always extended ones, giving me plenty of time to take him very deep into our own private world.

This slave expressed a desire to have his flesh branded. He wanted to commemorate his sixth session, with six marks. I thought about it for a moment.  He had already endured a serious flogging, and whipping with my other assorted whips. While his back was resting from all of that,  I covered his white butt with bright pink and red cane marks. Now it is true, that sometimes the effect of my serious attention on a man's body like that causes them to want things that are not safe and/or sane. This could just be the flood of endorphins coursing through his brain doing the talking. A real, permanent brand, that sears through layers of flesh is not something that should be done, if at all, to someone without thorough negotiation, and meticulous preparation involving sterile technique among other considerations.

I wanted to grant this request with a less severe, yet still quite painful, form of branding I learned from fellow kinksters in the scene some time back. They called it Devil's Fire, and I have also heard it called "cell popping" because of the little popping sound the skin makes when it is touched with the glowing hot needle. When I learned this technique,  I wanted to know how it feels, so I placed a little crescent shape on my upper hand, between my thumb and forefinger. The "branding" lasted about a month.

The needle is heated until it is glowing white hot at the tip. Then lightly touched to the flesh.                                                                             


The six marks will be a reminder to him of ALL the pain he has taken from me. He is STRONGER because of it.








Thursday, August 20, 2015

Photos of Mistress Akume


I just felt like posting some photos of me lounging around in my dungeon.



Thursday, July 30, 2015

Human shoe rack

Slaves can be useful in so many ways. I found this to be true when I decided to do some re-organizing.
I decided that a bunch of my shoes would need to be moved from an over crowded closet to the dungeon closet. I had use of a naked slave who I use from time to time to perform any number of tasks I assign him. Now, this particular slave is not the shoe worship type, although I could train him to be a shoe fetishist if wanted to. I do not feel the need to do this to him, as the world has many wonderful foot and shoe fetishists already.

So, back to the naked man in front of me who must do as he is told. I have him place his forearms together, palms touching. I use purple hemp rope, with lots of bite, to securely tie his wrists and forearms together. The rope pieces I use are about thirty feet long, so I have plenty of rope to make lots of wraps. I am careful about how I place it, everything must be perfect. He stands there, obedient and quiet, watching my hands. The simple act of tying his wrists like this has caused a certain powerful reaction in him. He has sunk deeper into his submission to me. People who are not into bondage can not understand this powerful moment. I understand it and embrace it because as he submits, I feel my own power swell up inside me and it feels really good!

Now that his arms are securely tied, he is told that he is now my human shoe rack and will be put to service transporting my shoes from point A to point B. I load him up with shoes, as many as I can. I warn him that if he drops any of them, it would be really BAD. He manages to complete the task, transporting two loads of shoes. He was such a useful human shoe rack! Just for that, he earned more bondage, laying on his back with a spreader bar between his ankles, and his still tied arms secured to a sturdy point above his head. Seeing him in this vulnerable, helpless position gave me just the incentive I needed to perform my wicked ministrations!

Friday, July 3, 2015

All is Well

All is well in my world, with the exception of a bit of writer's block.  I have received many inquiries as to whether or not I am still seeing clients. I have never stopped my sessions. I have been enjoying the servitude of the men who enter my dungeon and also living a full life. 

Part of the reason for my lack of posts is that Google had decided to delete blogs that they considered objectionable because of their content from the blogger platform. My blog was flagged as such and was set for deletion. I was given a few weeks to save my data and move on. Many, many bloggers were affected by this, and there was a huge outcry against it. This caused google to change their mind, and they let the "objectionable" blogs stay. Needless to say, I felt a bit frustrated when trying to migrate my data to another site, and disappointed by my blog almost getting deleted, I just didn't feel like contributing to it. I still plan on finding a new home for this, and until then, I will endeavor to resume writing posts. 


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Too Nice to be a Domme

I find it amusing and depending on the delivery, somewhat annoying when I am accused of being "too nice to be a domme." I have been making appearances at some of the local kink events lately, seeing old friends and making new ones. It is usually somebody new to the bdsm lifestyle who says this to me, but occasionally I am surprised by hearing it from somebody who, through years of experience, should know better.

It is true that some who practice power exchange stay in their chosen role twenty-four/seven. I am not one of those people. I do not wish to confuse you, dear reader, and I am aware that most of the writing here has been in the role of a sadistic dominatrix. At the risk of bursting your little fantasy bubble, and maybe in order to, I want you to know that I am much more than the role I portray here. I have a vanilla life, just like you do. And just like you, there is a part of me that craves the joy that can occur through sadomasochistic power exchange. My inner domina comes out to play only with mutual, negotiated consent. It takes a concentrated level of mental, emotional, and physical focus to play the way I do. I inhabit a fantasy land that can be entered through the ritual of placing a play collar on your neck. You can join me there, and we can be anything we want to be. You allow yourself to suspend disbelief. You become my pet, slave, slut, servant, doll, doggy, baby, footstool, human soccer ball,  whatever we want. It is intense and very real! I will control it, and when it is over, I will return you to your every day reality. Safe and sound. High on endorphins.

So, yes, I am a very nice person. At least my whipping boy thinks so. Even when I covered his back with whip marks and deliberate, painful wrapping of the lash. He was five minutes early, and I wanted him here exactly at three o'clock!

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Metal Bondage Cage

Today was a lucky day for me! Actually, it was lucky for both myself and the gentleman who gave me a glorious gift. He needed to find a home for his beloved metal cage. He designed it and had it built. It is a unique, functional, and beautiful piece of equipment. As I was playfully swinging my stiletto clad foot back and forth, catching his male member with each swing, it occurred to me that I am a very lucky woman indeed. Here was this adorable man, kneeling before me as I sat on my throne,  willing and eager to please me, to let me have my way with him, to let me turn him into a thing whose only purpose is to make me feel good. I told him what I was thinking and he replied that he felt like the lucky one to have found me! So, we laughed and marveled at how good it feels to feel lucky. I felt something stir inside of me, a heady surge of power. It made me realize how happy I am to have a proclivity that allows me to enjoy erotically dominating men!

 I had been dreaming of having a bondage cage that would also serve as a sturdy surface for play on top. I had started asking around about having such a thing built for me. I looked online, but couldn't really find what I wanted.

My new cage is perfect.

It can disassemble easily, into two hinged pieces. The powder coated steel is extremely sturdy.
 It has a padded top and bottom. This makes it perfect for extended, or overnight bondage. The bars, and the bolt handles make for excellent attachment points. Each of the for corners has an eye bolt welded to it. The bondage possibilities are endless.
 The best feature of the cage is the circular opening. The slave can be tied, face down, with appendages dangling in a most vulnerable way! I could use my metal stocks to force the slave to keep his head outside of the cage for some interesting scenarios.
I could sit directly on the opening for delightful forms of worship befitting a goddess of my magnitude! Hahaha!

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Shiny Metal Bondage

It is fascinating to me how an object can illicit a response in a person, especially an erotic response. I find it even more fascinating when I am the one experiencing the response. That is exactly what happened to me when presented with several pieces of finely crafted, exquisite stainless steel restraints. I could see myself in the surface of the metal collar, polished to a mirror-like shine. It felt so smooth and cool, I just had to caress it with my fingertips. When I clasped it around the slave's neck, his breath quickened, excitement and surrender washing over him from the point where the metal touched his neck. The collar is more than just an object. It is the gateway to our fantasy world, and when it is time to return to our mundane existence, it is our gateway back.
When I lifted the leg irons out of their box, I was surprised at how heavy they were. Their heaviness spoke of their cruelty and utter effectiveness. They snap on with very little effort, you can hear a click when the locking mechanism engages. Aaahhh sheer loveliness.
The elegant design of the "stocks" ensures that escape is impossible. A hex key is used to tighten everything down with bolts at the wrists and neck. We used a power drill to make this process quicker, though I imagine a slow approach when I am in a different mood would also be fun.




These wonderful items give me the capability of rendering a person completely helpless. I love having a man laying on the floor, helpless, in front of me. It stirs my imagination and I fills me with all kinds of ideas. Some boys and girls like to drift away into fluffy little clouds of pleasurable sensation,  while others like to be forced to take pain to quiet their masochistic craving for it. Some like a combination of sensations. A slow and building torture of one sort or another is easily accomplished using these gorgeous tools.

I used my fingernails to sensually torture my victim. Stroking the skin, raising gooseflesh, a little slap here, a little tickle there, and let's not forget a deep gauging scratch from time to time, are part of my nail tortures. My favorite tools for CBT are parachute cord, and my nails. In keeping with the theme of our playtime, he did have to wear a metal cock cage for awhile, but this was replaced with my cord, all the better to make that skin so nice and smooth for my nails to scratch! After he was properly tenderized, I indulged him by blowing the smoke from a Virgina Slims Light 120 Menthol cigarette (the kind I used to smoke eons ago) onto his tortured self.
Boys who bring me beautiful toys are make me very happy! Remember.....that is the most important thing! So, Thank You metal restraint male muse, you have INSPIRED me!

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Sorority Hazing Paddle

Above is a picture of one of my favorite toys. It is a genuine, sorority paddle presented to me as a gift from a hopeful paddle boy. This was over five years ago, and this paddle has been put to strenuous use ever since. It has the perfect heft, and swing, allowing me to deliver walloping whacks with precision and ease. It is also one of my loudest implements, not as loud as the crack of my whips, but definitely louder than your average strap. The sound it makes on the bare bottom is a very loud slapping, whacking sound.  WHACK! Thank Goddess my dungeon is double walled with sound board and insulation between the layers of sheet rock, and the windows are covered with sound board wrapped in sound absorbing foam. One can not be too careful about keeping our kind of fun private.

The sound of the whacks adds a very nice intensity to the activity. I enjoy it. I enjoy increasing and decreasing the tempo as I gauge the reactions of my playmate. I start light, with staccato little taps, a hard one mixed in every now and then just to keep things unpredictable. I ramp things up a bit and slow down to give harder strokes. After a certain amount of time passes, the brain releases certain chemicals to ease your suffering. This chemical release feels amazing and can vary from a slight buzz to a full blown euphoria. I feel it too. It is a visceral connection and can be surprisingly intimate.

The fact that the paddle has the greek letters of a sorority and a university emblem on it adds to its allure. It has a dedication on it,
"TO SHAKES
YOU'RE THE BEST!
LOVE
YOUR LIS SIS 
DONNA"
Holding this paddle takes my imagination all over the place.  What did Shakes and Donna look like? Did Shakes teach her little sister how to take a good punishment? For her own good? Was the paddle used on multiple initiates bums as part of humiliating hazing rituals? HHHmmmmm This powerful paddle has a rich history, I am sure.

The boy who gave this paddle to me did so not to manipulate the Mistress into getting what he wanted, but rather to repectfully communicate his desire.  He does not want elaborate BDSM roleplays or strict protocols. He just wants a solid, good paddling on his butt. He wants to push his own limits by taking as many hard licks as he can. And as an added bonus, he likes to admire my pantyhose clad legs and touch them, ever so delicately. He has taken the most whacks of anyone I have played with. I am proud of him.