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,
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.