Aug 102018
 

Even with all My fancy cock and ball torture equipment, I ended up just using a humbler, a shoelace, some rope, a bucket and a potato masher to devastate My slave’s balls last night. Oh and of course, my hands, knees, feet and elbows… You can do quite heavy ball busting with quite simple things. Though of course, it does help that he was securely bound to my bondage bench with no hope of escape. 

The sado-masochist dynamic can be excruciatingly beautiful when the energy feedback loop flows well. When someone is willing to endure pain for Me… to put their full attention on just getting through the next few seconds, to please Me… when they volunteer their suffering… their strain… their very breath as offerings for Me… The intimacy of that is often more intense than sex. 

I feed off this energy, willing sacrificed. They feed off My reaction and are bolstered to endure a little more… moment by moment…  We are to pieces of the same whole. Different but complimentary cogs. The thrill is often in feeling that temporary Oneness and it’s physical markers, snaking through our beings

I draw this energy through My body and it feels like warmth… electricity… elation… and it can be deeply touching. Occasionally I will feel sexually aroused but mostly it is the feedback loop flowing through both of us that sets my being on fire.  A masochist will share in this, filling with their own elation…

Compare a face in pain to a face in ecstasy…  Both contorted.. No where to hide… the world falls away and there is nothing but this moment and that connection between us.  

As a Pro Domme and lifestyle Mistress, I have many aspects to Me.  I like to play differently with different people and I don’t always want to be sadistic.  However, when the right fit comes along, it is a beautiful thing to unleash My talons and watch time distort… each second an eternity… their body, My instrument to orchestrate beautiful mayhem.  

Most BDSM, and sex for that matter, comes down to the connection that flows between us and the places we go inside ourselves, and with each other…  That is actually what we seek.  

Apply to submit to Mistress or see other types of sessions available at devinekink.com

Jul 262018
 

Her lip quivered slightly as she held her shaking hands out in front of her, palms up.  She stood there in nothing but her knickers and squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the stinging cane stroke I was about to deliver. I made her wait for it.

“A maid should carry herself with decorum at all times.  You should be aware of your surroundings and how you appear to Me.  Are you are a neat and appealing addition to My room or are you a cluttered, mess disturbing my equilibrium?  I expect My maids to move with grace and stand, kneel or sit in the proper positions as outlined by My protocol training.  Fidgeting is not tolerated.”

“Yes Mistress.  I apologise Mistress.  I will try harder.” she said blushing.

“Normally I cane your lovely plump bottom, but fidgeting hands are likely to remember to be still if they are throbbing and sore.” 

“Yes Mistress, You are right Mistress.”  She acquiesced, trying to make herself as agreeable as possible. Her arms were beginning to shake and droop a little.

“Hands out straight! Sloppy Missy! Sloppy and disappointing. I think I will double your punishment if you cannot take My instruction seriously!” 

Her face filled with alarm as she promptly lifted her arms back up straight out in front of her. 

Australian Disciplinarian

The cane whirred satisfyingly as it sliced through the air and landed sharply across both palms.  Missy cried out and involuntarily pulled her hands away. 

“Tutt, tutt.” I purred as I pulled them back into place.  “You know you are to present your palms willingly for your punishment.  The whole reason you are here is because you have no control over your posture.  Hold  your hands out straight and do not withdraw them.  You have six strokes, but each time you pull away, we will start at number one again.” 

“Yes Mistress, she said.  I had her full attention now. I like how pain does that.  A well delivered punishment not only corrects errant behaviour but also brings their wandering minds fully into the room with Me. No escaping My sharp attention.  

“Now remember to count and thank Me after each stroke.” 

Again the cane sliced through the air, finding its target  perfectly.  Again the maid’s responses were involuntary as she pulled her hands away and winced in pain. 

“One thank you Mistress, may I please have another?”

“I can see you are not taking My lessons seriously.  You should be grateful I am putting this time and effort into training you. I can see I am going to have to take this up a notch.”  I paused, then continued…

“Stand in the corner, with your nose touching the wall until I return.  She obediently did as she was told.  I sauntered over and placed a 50 cent coin between her nose and the wall. 

“Hands behind your back!”  I quickly locked the cuffs she permanently wore behind her.   “Now, don’t drop that coin.  I expect it to still be there when I return or your punishment will triple.” 

She began to sweat,  which of course, made that cursed coin even harder to hold in place.  I then bent down and pulled her knickers down.  There was evidence of her earlier caning in the form of neat welts on her milky buttocks.  I slipped a gloved finger between the crack.   

“Some say fidgeting means you have ants in your pants” I said.  I plan on training you to be perfectly elegant in your posture and movements no matter what is in your pants.  Do you hear Me?”

“Yes Mistress,” came the miserable reply. 

I gently massaged her tight little pucker and eased it open.  Confused she moaned at this pleasurable touch and struggled to keep the coin against the wall. 

“Arch your back and present your bottom to Me and whatever you do, do NOT fidget, am I clear?”

“Yes Mistress”  she said immediately opening her herself to My touch.  Her rounded hips and small waist were pleasing in this position. 

I slid my finger inside her and a small moan escaped her mouth.  She quivered and the coin came crashing to the floor. 

“My, my Missy, what am I going to do with you?” 

“I am sorry Mistress, I am so sorry.  I won’t do it again.  Please give me another chance?”  she begged.

“I plan on giving you a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry, young lady.”  I smirked, stern but enjoying Myself.

“Now pick up the coin with your mouth, kneel before Me and present it to Me.” 

She  crawled  on the floor with her hands still tied behind her back trying to get the coin in her mouth.  I leaned back to enjoy the view.

After while of scrambling about, her bare bottom bobbing in the air, she managed to get the coin in her mouth and knelt before Me.  I had her drop it in my hand.  It was wet from her saliva.  It would be even harder to hold against the wall now…

I reached down, cupped her chin and looked intently into her eyes.  “Now, you have been a disgrace with your training so far Missy.  You need to learn your place as My maid.  If you ever wish to earn the right to wear the colours of My house, The deVinery, as a fully trained service submissive and maid, you will need to try a lot harder.  Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress,”  eagerness to obey in all her features.  “I really want to be the best maid I can be.  I really want You to be proud of me so I can serve Your guests and make Your life easier.  I am willing to submit to Your training and will do my very best to please You.”

“Good girl.  Now stand back in the corner and hold this coin in place with your nose no matter what I do to you.  Quick smart!”  I clapped my hands twice sharply. 

She leapt up and presented her bottom beautifully, nose pressed firmly against the wall, hands still cuffed behind her back. 

I slipped a gloved finger between her buttocks and began massaging her hole open again.  Missy strained with the effort of keeping still and quiet. 

I took My time… No need to rush… I was enjoying this game.  I want to train My service staff to be exactly who I want them to be.  I train servants of all genders.  They each have their appeal.   I enjoy the process of moulding them, body and mind.

Missy arched her back slightly more, trying to resist the urge to lean into my touch.  I slid something hard and cool between her cheeks.  It was slippery with oil.  Missy’s breath was sharp as I slid it into her bottom.  It took a moment before she reacted. 

Three, two, one… her skin flushed red and she really began to sweat in earnest. 

“Wha… what is that Mistress!” gasped Missy in confused alarm. 

You do not speak unless  you first ask permission to speak Missy.  You know better than that!”

“Sorry Mistress, permission to speak please Mistress?” 

“Yes you may speak.”

“It burns Mistress!  What is it?” 

It is a lovely ginger root, I peeled and carved into a butt plug for you and then coated in home made chilli oil.  Chilli from My own garden.  Aren’t you lucky!”

“Errrr… yes Mistress, thank You Mistress.  Oh Mistress, it burns!”

“Yes worse than ants in pants I imagine.  Now you will learn how to hold your correct posture and demeanour no matter what.  I can remind you again and again by applying this technique until you learn.  Thank Me for training you.” 

“Thank you Mistress.  Thank you for taking your time to train me properly.”  she said, breathlessly attempting to sound measured and polite. 

“Good, now hold that coin in place while I go and arrange the rest of your punishment.  You still need to receive your six strokes of the cane across your hands without fidgeting.” 

“Yes Mistress,” she gulped, sweat beads turning into rivulets on her forehead, knickers still bunched around her knees.

The corners of My mouth curled slightly in satisfaction as I left the room. I took my time and made Myself a lovely cup of tea and checked my messages.  I rested and enjoyed the afternoon sun refracting through the crystals hanging in my dining room window.  My herb garden was looking lovely!  Especially those bright red chillis. So nice to spend some quiet time to Myself for a moment.

When I judged my maid had spent enough time anticipating My return, and suspected her bottom had perplexed her enough to make her willing and compliant, and her imagination had gone wild with what I planned next, I rummaged through the pantry until I found what I was looking for. 

I re-entered the room and poured uncooked rice in a pile on the floor.  Missy was bent over in the corner.  The coin had obviously slipped down some so she was bent, shaking, trying to hold it in place.  This made an appealing view of her behind, with the tip of the ginger root protruding. 

I paused, silent and just watched for a full two minutes.  I enjoyed hearing her breathing reveal her struggle even as she remained as still as she could. 

“You may drop the coin now Missy.”  I said with casual unconcern.

She dropped it in relief and stood back up in the posture she had been trained to use when standing and waiting for orders.  Shoulder back, eyes down, feet neatly together. 

“Come here Missy”, I said clapping my hands sharply in summons.  She obeyed. She was alert to my every mood and movement, as a good maid should be.  There was nothing in her world but Me.  She was no longer distracted and fidgeting.  She was putting her full attention on what I wanted and how I wanted it. My training was working. 

“How is your bottom feeling Missy?” 

“It still burns Mistress”. 

Good, now kneel on the rice in front of Me and hold your hands out straight, palms up.  We are going to start again with the six of the best I promised you.  This time, your posture will be perfect and you will not flinch, am I clear?” 

“Yes Mistress.” 

She did as she was told and kneeled her bare knees on the rice on the hard tiled floor.  Each grain dug into her flesh.  Her bottom was on fire.  However, this time she held her arms out straight and presented her palms beautifully.

The cane sliced through the air and landed across her fingers.  Her body jolted with the pain of it but she did not withdraw her hands.  It took all her concentration, but she did it.  That is what I wanted from her.  I wanted her to put ALL of who she is into each moment of service to Me. 

“One thank You Mistress, may I please have another?”

Time slowed as again the cane sliced through the air and found its target.  I chose whether or not I wished to hit her palms or her fingers.  She resolutely held her arms out, submitting to My punishments. 

“Two thank You Mistress, may I please have another?“  Her pretty plump thighs shook with the effort to remain still, still kneeling on the grains of rice.  No doubt they were digging in against tender knee bones by now.  

Again I caned her, three, four and five times, pausing between each stroke to allow the dread the coming punishment to build. Her muscles shook and her face flushed with the effort of holding still but did not lose her posture.

“You know what they say about the last stroke don’t you Missy?”

“Yes Mistress, it is always the hardest,” she said, clearly attempting not to cry.

I paused even longer before the last stroke.  Her whole body was shaking now in the effort to hold still.  The rice was pushing the edge of what it was possible for her to bare, her bottom alarmingly on fire and her hands covered in angry welts. 

“What have you learned Missy?”

Tears began to flow.  “I have learned not fidget and that the protocol positions You teach me must be adhered to at all times,” she sobbed, “I have learned I must be graceful and aware of how I look to You at all times.” 

“Good girl.” I said satisfied and sent the final stroke flying through the air like a lightning bolt.

Missy cried out and began to cry uncontrollably but did not move an inch.  I was proud of her.  I watched her hold the position waiting for My command to release her.  I watched admiring her devotion shaking through every fibre of her being and enjoyed just how far she would go for Me.  There is a beautiful kind of intimacy in Dominance and submission.  I made her stay there so I could soak it in. 

“I am proud of you My girl.”  I whispered.  Her whole being glowed with the praise.  “You may drop your hands now and get off the rice. 

She crumpled on the floor in relief. 

“Now let Me give you a little reward.  My training is always a little carrot as well as a little stick. Get on all fours.” 

She did so without hesitation even though her knees were so very sore. She arched her back prettily to make her rump available to Me… Her knees the right width apart…  I straddled her, and used her as a seat, sitting close to her buttocks.  I stroked her sore bare bottom and murmured soothing sounds.  Then, when I was good and ready, I let the warm trickle of my golden nectar run down her buttocks and sooth her fiery red bottom.  She sobbed in gratitude.  My quivering, teary mess of a maid was covered in my golden shower, broken and obedient, as is proper. 

However, this is merely one lesson in a long series.  While she has been serving Me a little while now, she was still only early on in my Submissive Training Program.  I held her head and stroked her hair as she cried and clung to my ankle. 

“That’s enough for today”.  I purred.  “Your next lesson will be how to draw a bath of milk and honey and perform a proper bathing ceremony for Mistress. There is protocol for this that must be followed exactly.  However that is enough for now.  I am pleased with your progress.

Find out more about Mistress Artemisia’s upcoming Submissive Training Program by joining her mailing list and following Her on twitter

Find out more about Mistress Artemisia de Vine, Sydney’s Goddess of Elegant Perversion, BDSM & fetish.  Explore Her kinky world and discover the other types of sessions available.

Feb 062015
 

 

Male slave kneeling storiesBlindfolded and on all fours he waited for instructions, his ears alert to every sound.

I waited, watching his shallow, sharp breathing.  He had offered himself to me in service and wanted to be trained to worship me just how I like it. Little did he know what that would actually mean.

I ran a finger deliberately down his spine, teasing his buttocks and then tickling his balls. Twining my fingers around them, I pulled the sack skin tight and quickly slid a tie around the base of his cock. With a twist here and there it wasn’t long before his package was snugly bound in a classic cock-tie that separated his balls from each other and from his penis. This held him stiff while also drawing the skin of each testicle taut, enhancing sensitivity.

“So you’d like the honor of worshipping my intimate nooks and crannies would you slave? My wet, velvety places?” I asked in an amused but seductive voice.

“Yes Mistress, very much so, Mistress”.

“There is a price you know. Such an honor does not come free. Are you willing to pay?”

“Yes Mistress, do whatever you like with me Mistress”.

Without hesitation the whirring of the cane sliced through the air and bit into his soft buttocks. Two, Three, Four, Five, Six in a row… Cold strokes with no warm up.

Slave yelped in pain and surprise but held his position with a dedicated determination to take whatever I dished out. While his efforts where admirable, if he thought that was the only price he would have to pay he was mistaken.

While the red welts were still blossoming across his bottom, I attached a rope to his cock-tie and I soon had his balls tied to the bed railing behind him.  This meant his cock and balls were tugged on if he tried to move at all.

I then sauntered around him to lay myself down in a luxurious pile of cushions in front of his bowed head.  I slipped my g-string off, flicking him in the face with it, and spread my legs… My pussy just out of reach…

“Can you smell that my dear slave? Take a deep breath and breathe me in. Does that smell good to you? How badly do you want to serve me? You can worship me if you can reach me… Prove to me that it is about my pleasure, not yours…”

He hesitated.  He longed to please me, to taste me, but he would have to strain against the cock and ball bondage in a very painful way to make me come.

He reach forward, struggling to reach me. He was clearly in quite some discomfort and couldn’t help moaning in pain as he endeavored to prove himself to me.

I moved slightly further away and laughed, “Come on slave, I thought you wanted to worship my pussy? I thought you said it wasn’t about your pleasure, it was only about mine?”

He groaned in dismay and strained to reach me, this time clearly in quite a lot of pain as the bondage pulled on his cock and balls. Still desperate to reach the holy grail nestled between my legs, he pushed himself…

“You know I take quite a long time to come slave, we could be here for a while… my clitoris is higher up… come a little closer…”

 

Mistress Artemisia de vine sassyBased on a real life session with Sydney-based Mistress Artemisia de Vine
Disclaimer: Don’t try this at home unless you’ve been shown how to tie the cock and balls in a way that will not damage the ductus deferens when tugged. See Artemisia’s  website here

Find out more about Slave training Goddess Worship Sessions here

Follow her on Twitter: @ArtemisiadeVine

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Jan 102015
 

 

 

Artemisia de Vine femdom Sydney CK logoDear Diary,

Today I enjoyed testing the flesh of a new slave.  I was in a cruel, sadistic mood and wanted to see what he would do to please Me.  I stripped him of his name and his eyesight by placing him in a hood and then made him prostrate himself before Me.  Slave position… Kneeling with forehead to the ground, hands out in front, palms up, offering himself to Me, his Mistress and his Queen… legs spread to expose his soft, vulnerable places for Me to inspect.

I reminded him that while wearing My collar, he is nothing but a vessel for My entertainment… That it wasn’t about his pleasure but all about Mine… and that I was in a petulantly bored sort of mood in desperate need of a diverting distraction.

He foolishly agreed to be my toy and I purred to Myself.  Let the games begin!

Mistress Artemisia slave sadistic sydney CKI soon had him trussed up, nicely vulnerable… exposed…  legs spread in the air and hands fastened securely above his head… helpless to escape but still able to move a little should he struggle.  This small amount of movement was intentional.  I had a little game planned for him.  I like to torment the mind as well as the body…

In our pre-play consultation, I had discovered slave particularly loathed golden showers.  Useful to know…

I placed marbles on his belly and told him that if he kept perfectly still no matter what I did to him and kept the marbles from rolling off, he would please Me and eventually be set free.  However if the marbles rolled off I would be displeased and he would have to drink My golden nectar.

exposed slave bondage sydney CKThis of course was a diverting game for Me.  I was a entertained for a good couple of hours…  I enjoyed visiting all sorts of teasing unpleasantness on him… nipple torture… cock and ball torture… different unexpected sensations from gentle stroking to sharp searing in delicate places…  and of course, with such a nicely exposed asshole I was too tempted not to torment it.

“Oh but slave, you should be honored to drink My golden nectar.  It is an elite vintage.  I could bottle it and sell it for a fortune.  Other slaves would be delighted to taste My tang on their tongue.  I should make you gargle it and guess the bouquet.  Can you hear Me drinking more water in preparation?  I am brewing a special batch just for you.”

To this slave however, the thought was revolting so the imagery kept him even more obediently still.  As much as I would enjoy forcing him to drink, I actually had other plans.  Torture is so much worse if you choose it yourself… To him drinking My urine was hell.  So much so that he would willingly beg Me to do other painful things to him, and dear diary, I do ever so love a begging slave.

Still while I had him nicely bound and psychologically tormented I may as well see what else I could get out of him.  There was no rush, I didn’t want the game to end too soon.  I wondered what dirty things were in the secret corners of his mind that he had never told a soul?    What things would make him he die of embarrassment  if his friends, team mates and colleagues knew?  I do like having leverage over My slaves and knowledge is power.

I gloved up and pretended to lube up his bottom in preparation for penetration.  However I instead of lube I used a generous amount of deep heat, massaging it into his delicate pucker and slathering his balls with it.  I then stood back and waited for him to realise what I had done.

Artemisia's slave Sydney hood CKIt didn’t take long… Soon whimpering began to escape his lips and he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

The marbles teetered dangerously but slave was determined not to taste My urine.  He managed keep them balanced in a neat row on his quivering flesh.

“Your bottom is looking nice and vulnerable slave?  How is it feeling?”  I asked in amused mock sympathy.

“It burns like nothing else Mistress!” He said breathing sharply and clearly miserably but still determined to prove himself to Me.

“Oh good.  That pleases Me. Though… it is a rather tight hole…  I think it needs stretching, don’t you?”

He gulped, not sure how to answer.

“What no answer slave?  I shall take that as a yes.  Unless…  unless of course you entertain Me in other ways?  I paused a moment to let hope simmer…  Perhaps you’d like to tell me a story? ”

“A story Mistress?”  His confusion was priceless.

sadist ass spreader speculum femdom BDSM CKI didn’t answer for a moment.  I lubed him up and penetrated him with my finger for a while, then inserted one of my favorite toys… the ass spreader…  He would have felt cold metal sliding into his anus.  Probably initially a relief against the burning… I gave the screw a few turns so it slowly began to open his hole, giving him a taste of what was to come.  His confusion about what was happening brought a smirk to My face.

“I tell you what slave, I will begin stretching your asshole open nice and wide.  You will soon want Me to stop.  When you have confessed to Me a dark secret fantasy you have never told a soul I will cease stretching and apply tabasco sauce.  This is a new level of burning but you will beg for Me to do it… unless you want Me to continue to open your hole wider… and wider… and wider…

In order for Me to stop stretching you, I must be convinced it is a true story you have fantasised about slave and I will know if you are lying.  If I am not convinced I will continue stretching until I am.  Your hole is delicate and tight so I would hurry up if I were you”.

A lovely dilemma.  He does not want more burning.  Chili on top of deep heat is significantly unpleasant but very soon the stretching would be so much worse.  Again, I do love it when slaves beg me to torture them…  The trick is to get them to beg for the lesser evil.  I also love humiliating them.

“What is more slave, I am going to make a little video of this.  I am going to record you confessing your perversions to Me.  Perhaps I will keep them secret and safe… perhaps I will put them on the internet for all to see… It depends on how well you please Me”.

I turned the screw a little more, widening his hole to show I meant business.

“Now begin.  Make it good”.

This was a terribly fun game for me!  It went on for some time, with Me slowly turning the screws and opening him wider and wider.

Needless to say I forced some very entertaining confessions from him…  Confessions that had him blushing furiously and Me laughing all the way.  I could tell he was blushing because even though he wore a hood his chest turned bright red.  Beads of sweat turned to riverlets on his flesh… He confessed about fantasising doing some truly dirty things with people who would be shocked if they found out.  I will keep this information in the vault for now…  This knowledge will prove useful in future I am sure.

chili Mistress Sydney anal tortureBy the end he was begging in earnest for Me to fuck him with a tabasco sauce covered dildo… Which I did with glee.  I pushed that chili covered phallus into his strectch and aching bottom, generously spreading more sauce on his sensitive pucker and some for his balls too.

Ooh didn’t slave squirm!    Yet as much as sweated and groaned, he obediently held still enough to not drop the marbles.   I laughed in delight the more he suffered for Me.

This amused Me for some time but Mistress always wins so the marbles had to fall.

I let him think he had almost won his freedom then, without warning, yanked the nipple clamps off.  He cried out in shock and an involuntary convulsion dislodged those marbles and sent them rolling across his flesh almost in slow motion… then one after the other there was an ominous clang and clatter as they dropped to the floor and rolled across My dungeon.

“Oh dear, slave, after trying so hard for hours it looks as though you will still have to drink My golden shower after all.  Not a drop is to be spilt…”

I let that simmer for a moment…  Slave whimpered in dismay…

“Unless of course you beg Me to cane the soles of your feet instead, and thank me for the privilege of being beaten.  What would you prefer slave?”

bastinado sydney mistress foot tortureBeating the soles of the feet is called  bastinado and is really quite intense.  I knew this slave was a sportsman who had to go running later that night… which would prove difficult with sore, bruised feet…

Predictably, slave was soon pleading with Me to use the cane on his soft tootsies…

I took my time to let anticipation build and then whoosh! The cane sung as it sliced the air and sunk into his restrained feet.  He was beautifully tied up in rope bondage with no hope of getting away from Me.   After each slice of pain, he shuddered and gasped, trying to get his breath back.  As soon as he could form the words he dutifully thanked Me for my sadistic attentions and begged for more.

“Stroke One, thank You Mistress, may i please have another…”

Another cruel thwack biting into his tender feet.

“Two thank You Mistress, may i please have another…”

More and more…

“Twenty four thank You Mistress, may i please have another…”  he whimpered, clearly unable to take much more.

Finally I was satisfied.

Well… not quite. I had one last cruel game to play before I sent him back out into the world.  I untied him and led him to the shower.  I had him stand there naked in front of Me.

“Now slave, would you like you to be allowed to cum today?”

“It’s up to You Mistress”.

“Yes I know it is up to Me, but would you like to?”

“Yes Mistress,” he answered uncertainly.

Good then perhaps I will reward you for suffering for Me.  Play with yourself and let me know when you are getting close to climaxing…  However remember I own you.  I own your cock and I own your cum.  You are not to cum without my permission, do you understand?

“Yes Mistress”

I watched him with My arms folded and an amused expression as he tugged away pathetically at his cock.  It was sore and red from the earlier cock-caning and other CBT ministrations but I have learned a man will walk through fire in order to be allowed to cum.  He played with himself, looking both embarrassed and turned on.  His cock began to stand to attention and it wasn’t long before it was straining and stiff.  I watched him start to get close… his eyes closing, his chest heaving and his face making a grimace like they all do when about to orgasm.

“May I please cum Mistress?  I am so close!  Please may I cum?”

Without warning I grabbed the shower hose and turned a full blast of icy water all over him, shocking him out of his arousal.

“Why of course not you dirty little slave!”  I laughed as I held the stream of water mercilessly on him while he scrambled into the corner to get away.  “Of course you can’t.  How entertaining that you thought this was about you!  It is of course all about Me.  Think about that as you struggle around the running track with sore feet and blue balls tonight.  Every step a reminder that you are here to serve Me.”

Based on a real session with Mistress Artemisia de Vine.

NOTE:  There are always layers upon layers of psychological play going on underneath the actual activities in any given scene.  Every scene is negotiated to suit the individual wiring of both myself and the person I am playing with and consent and de-brief is very much part of this process.  I am always struck by the beauty of someone who is so thoroughly cracked open in submission… the trust in me to guide them safetly through this torment…

Slave’s primary intention for the session was not to get horny. It was to submit. Horny feelings may or may not be part of that. What he needed was to truly believe he was not in control anymore and to let his ego go in surrender so he could fly. 

My role is to take on all the ego so he can be free of his…  There is great pleasure in power tripping… Win/win really.  Ironically we end up in the same place… He gets there through the back door while I get there through the front.  There is magic in the intimacy of Domination and submission. 

Mistress Artemisia de vine sassyABOUT THE AUTHOR: Artemisia de Vine is a Sydney-based, professional Domme and switch who specialises in BDSM with awareness.  She is passionate about tuning into the unique erotic wiring of each individual she plays with to create imaginative scenes relevent to their personal journey.  She loves to explore pleasure, the Mysteries of Existence and just what fabulous madness is possible when we peak under the covers of civilised behaviour and nudge our boundaries.   She accesses all the aspects of human nature normally forbidden to us in everyday life, like humiliation, shame, fear, cruelty and power but does so from a place of compassion, consciousness and intension for the holistic well-being of all involved.  She is at heart, a kinky shadow worker exploring the ways in which owning our dark side can make us whole.

If the link between BDSM and shadow work intrigues you, you may be interested in reading this blog on Conscious Kink and Humiliation Play.

Another play scene story that may intrigue you: BDSM as Theatre of the Soul: An erotic tale of Sadistic Degradation

And A tale of public Humiliation
A
nd Dear Diary, Today I made my slave…

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