Saturday, December 15, 2012

Cock and Ball Torture Chastity Device

 This is a lovely little device that has proved to be quite effective for my purposes. It was presented to me by an adoring sub in the hopes that I may decide to use it on him. As it turned out, he was too excitable for me to actually place it on his member. Every time I grabbed the flesh to place it inside the the hinged bracket, the offending member would start to swell. I finally managed to force it on, but he winced and cried and became totally useless. So, I showed some mercy and decided to save the device for a playmate that could relax into it, and not be too afraid of the pain. 
Lucky for me, a suitable player did indeed show up.
The key to success for this particular instrument is for the male to be completely flaccid when it is placed on the shaft. I insist on being the one who places it on him. It is made of very heavy steel, and the force of gravity alone is enough to cause it to slide down, scraping the skin along the way, not the effect I want at the beginning of its use. So I ran a cord through it and up around the sub's waist. Now having a very heavy piece of spiked metal dangling on one's genitals causes one to experience a wonderful feeling of surrender (or so I have been told). The fun began when I gave my boy a few commands that caused him to have to move about and feel the weight of the device. It became even more fun when I flogged him. This started to turn him on a bit, which caused the spikes to exert a certain pressure. I eased up, not wanting to overwhelm him. Then I started up again, increasing then easing up again in a sort of torturous ebb and flow. After the flogging I allowed him a short break and the chance to show his gratitude by kissing my boots. Once rested, the real teasing began. I played with his body and told him naughty things. I stroked the head of his cock and giggled when he became aroused, because along with his arousal, he experienced excruciating points of sensation. He had to hold perfectly still in order to process this level of intensity. I waited, calmly absorbing his surrender. The spikes did not puncture the skin, so we kept on. On and on, I teased him relentlessly, enjoying his responses.  His soft moans and whimpering pleas felt good to me. I wanted to give him a goal to work towards, then he would be freed from the evil device. He had to pleasure me in a very specific way, and still be able to endure the torture. Alas, this was asking too much of him and I could tell by his sweaty, quivering hands that it was time to end our game, but not before he found the key I had hidden on my person. He found it hiding under my strap on harness and I mercifully unlocked the little lock on that nasty device and allowed him to recover.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Leg Worship

As an ardent observer of men and what many of them seem to fixate on, I have decided that I really, really, like leg men. By that I mean, men who love women's legs. They possess a certain charm and sophistication that separates them from other men. They take the time to notice the curves and the lines that make up the shape of the leg. They notice what happens to a woman's shape when she wears high heels. They imagine what it would feel like to have her lovely legs wrapped around them, what it would look like to get down on the floor, then gaze up under her dress. And while they are on the floor, dare to steal a quick kiss on her ankle. Some can stare, transfixed for long periods of time, at the beautiful legs of a woman. The enchantment becomes complete when she decides to give her tired foot a little air, pops the shoe off, then dangles it for awhile. Some of the more fetish minded luxuriate in the thought of having the opportunity to worship the legs and feet of a dominant goddess.

One of my leg men loves to bring me flowers. He likes to see me smile and although he is not much of a masochist at all, he has other ways of making me happy. He gives my legs the kind of loving attention that I feel is very appropriate for our dynamic. He loves, loves, loves my legs!
artwork by Alazar

Friday, July 13, 2012

Ballistic For Ball Busting

Of the many pleasures I encounter in my professional domination practice, ball busting happens to be ranked very high. It is hard to describe the supreme, sadistic rush I get out of applying sensation to that oh so delicate, yet surprisingly hardy set of male external organs. When a man offers me his balls, he willingly takes a journey into the dark world of his most masochistic desires. 
I enjoy verbally taunting him about the fact that I can do whatever I want to his balls. I could cut them off if I wanted to, because what does he need them for anyway? I could put them with all of the others in my collection! HaHaHa

I had a marvelous time recently with an extraordinary young man who loves to have his balls beaten, in part so that he may enjoy the bruising for days and days afterward. He brought over a spongy bat for this purpose and I thought it would add some fun to also use my special massage tools called "bongers". These tools, in addition to my feet and hands provided a truly ballistic style busting! 

Dear reader, please rest assured that the safety of my playmates is always foremost in my mind, and especially so with all matters testicular. 

Here is an account, in his words of some of the activities we engaged in:


Ouch. My balls were already aching and pretty tenderized after you strung me up with your crazy bondage and had your way with me (the forever-increasing stomp was excruciating!). Then we moved to the horse and you warned that you were going to take things up a notch, and you meant it! Those rubber-ball whackers packed a killer punch, especially when you started slamming me with two at once, pancaking my nuts in between. At first I couldn't see what you were doing back there, and then I looked on the floor and saw the shadow of my balls swinging...and saw two rubber balls. I saw the rubber ball shadows disappear to each side for your backswing, and had a sudden realization of what was about to happen, just a split second before you started slamming them together. I don't think I've ever felt testicle pain that deeply. And the hits kept coming! And the bat! You had me writhing in a world of pain while you were writhing with pleasure, getting off on it like the evil little sadist that you are. You just completely made me your bitch.

But even that didn't compare to our grand finale with the bat. It was an uphill battle finishing in the face of the most devastating beatdown yet to my bruised, swollen balls. Fucking domination. You hurt me and scared me and pushed my boundaries, but it was still so fun and so hot.
Thanks for a wild ride!

Friday, June 29, 2012

Little Sissy Ankle Socks

Crossdressers come in so many varieties! Some are sultry ladies of the evening, with stockings and stiletto heels. Some are the conservative type, who would blend in quite well at the Ladies Auxiliary meeting of the Sons of the American Revolution. Some are teen-aged bimbos, slutty and giggly. Then there are the sissy maids. These delightful creatures take their pleasure in service to others. That alone would be enough, but the fetish appeal is amplified considerably when the maid also happens to be a little girl!

Little Sissy Ankle Socks come over to play. All she really needed was a female authority figure to tell her what to do. She showed up at my dungeon, looking rather manly, which of course is completely unacceptable. She was in luck, because I know how to transform, ugly awkward men into pretty little girls. All it takes is a little bit of make-up, a frilly outfit, and the most adorable accessory of all, which (in her case) is a pair of lacy ankle socks.

Each stage of the transformation took my girl deeper and deeper into her girlie persona. I instructed her on the proper way to sit, walk, and curtsy. I was not surprised that she took to the lessons rather well, considering the hours of practice she had already done on her own. She was so sweet and so very, very cute. Even though she only made a few minor mistakes, I still had to assert my authority with a bit of spanking on her naughty bottom. I had her lay on the ottoman and lift her fluffy dress up, exposing her ruffled panties. I pulled the panties down, and spanked the bare skin. I had her hold that pose for awhile because I wanted her to remember how humiliating a bare-bottomed spanking could be. Once she was properly disciplined, I allowed my girl a special indulgence which shall remain our little secret.



Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Siren Song

My new look: red lips, hair and fingernails. 

I am a changeable, multifaceted, woman.

My siren song is unique and draws to me the most interesting of people. From the adventurous seeker of novelty, to the serious recipient of discipline, only the interesting can hear my call. They come from a variety of circumstances and for a variety of reasons. They come for atonement, release, and forgiveness. They come for stimulation, inspiration, and validation. Some, though not all, come for the brain chemicals released through painful sensations. And of course, they also come for pure, unadulterated eroticism in its most perverse forms.

My siren song is very powerful, yet does not steal your life. It enhances life.

The seeker of my art has the mental capacity to understand or at least appreciate it. This rules out the dullard. Indeed, he can not hear my song. This also rules out the self righteous zealot, who hears my song but because it frightens him, closes his mind. Those who seek me are a cut above the rest.

 My song wraps around your mind and pulls you to me. It touches a part of you that is deep inside, a part that is starved for attention. It dares you to join the dance.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Beautiful Boy Bondage Bottom

Just when I start to lose faith in the generosity of the universe, specifically that of the Rope Gods, I am blessed with the existence of earthly creatures with no other purpose than to give themselves to me so that I may create something beautiful. One such creature came to me recently, sent no doubt, by the Goddess of Surrender to remind me that life is good, very, very good. 

Silently he sat, quieting his mind, focused on the moment, savoring the anticipation of what was to come. Already, I felt him yield to me as I tied the chest harness. He showed the proper respect, the sweet demeanor of a submissive boy, shyly keeping his eyes cast down. 


 I petted and stroked my lovely plaything as I increased the bondage. His body responded to my attention as he fell deeper into my web.

 He held the tension on the cock bondage cord with his teeth as tight as he could bear it, just as I told him to do. All of the sensations are amplified...all he could do was squirm, and moan, surrendering to me. I drank in his responses, filling myself up with more and more, evoking little gasps as my strokes turned to slaps, scratches, and squeezes.


 I paused to capture this goodness on film.



Words escape me....