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!
I 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.
This 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.
It 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.
I 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.
By 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?”
Beating 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?
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.
ABOUT 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
And Dear Diary, Today I made my slave…
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