Sep 102016
 

The below spanking story is written by professional disciplinarian & switch spankee, Artemisia de Vine and contains: Bare Bottom spanking & caning as well as a double figging, embarrassment, humiliation, assumed patriarchal family roles and eroticised sexist concepts.  Irene teaches her half sister Ella a lesson in lady-like behaviour.  Pictures are of professional Mistress Electra Amore and Switch Artemisia de Vine role playing Irene and Ella.

 

 

Irene’s back was stiff with cold formality and her silver soup spoon clanked a little louder than it needed to against the delicate china bowl. Little droplets of creamy butternut splashed onto the pristine white table-cloth.   Oblivious, her new boyfriend, Harold, continued to sneak glances at Ella’s ample cleavage across the table.

“Interesting choice of frock for a family dinner, sister dear,”  said Irene with a deceptive causal tone.  “Wherever did you get it?”

“Yes it was a great find!” replied Ella, purposely ignoring the hint of venom in Irene’s polite sentiments.  “I got it on sale at that cute little boutique near the old Princess Theatre.  It was the last one left and fits like a glove.”

“Shame they didn’t have any other sizes left.  Perhaps one size up would have been a little more modest.”  said Irene through a fixed smile that did not reach her eyes.

Ella’s sweetly plump face reddened in recognition of her half-sister’s mood.  Her nostrils flared slightly.

Of course taunting Ella had the opposite effect that Irene wanted as now all eyes focused squarely on Ella’s milky bosom threatening to spill out of her low-cut black V-neck with every indignant breath.  To make things worse, an attractive blush blossomed on her chest and cheeks.

“It’s a perfect fit,” said Harold appreciatively, “Very nice indeed”.

restaurant set

restaurant set

There was an uncomfortable adjusting of pearl necklaces and shuffling in seats as the rest of the extended family felt the ripple of tension. Uncle Victor, the religious one in the family, was clearly the most uncomfortable and his bulbous red nose, twitched in disapproval.  Only cousin Jack remained laid back in his chair and looked amused at the show.

Aunt Rachel, a prim, grey haired lady of social graces and an ever-present urge to play peace maker, coughed delicately and interjected, “Irene tells me you have a yacht and are going to spend the summer sailing the Greek Islands, Harold.”

“Yes!” boomed Harold magnanimously, “I was going to announce that after dessert.  You are welcome to join us.  You too, Ella,”   He grinned, returning his attention back to his girlfriend’s half sister.

“Really!  I’ve always wanted to go.  That would be lovely!”  beamed Ella.  Her mind filled with visions of bikini clad sun baking and cocktails on the deck.  While she came from a family of money, she did not have a lot of her own so this was a wonderful opportunity.

spilt-red-wineThere was a clunk and crash as Irene’s wine glass fell to the floor, spraying velvety shiraz down her cream shirt and all over the rich oranges and earthy tones of the Persian rug.

“Oh dear!” she tutted, feathers clearly ruffled.  Her hands trembled slightly as she brushed at the stain, but she only succeeded in smearing the wine further.

“Are you alright my dear?”  Harold asked, suddenly reverting to attentive boyfriend.  There was much fussing and concern for Irene but no one lifted a finger in a practical sense.  Ella thought, not for the first time, that should her family suddenly have to look after themselves, evolution would simply wipe them out.  Their survival skills revolved around how to best hire someone else to do the work for them.

Miss Brown, the family housekeeper, rushed forward with a dust pan and began cleaning up the mess with starched efficiency.

“How clumsy of me!”  muttered Irene, “Please do excuse me while I go change.  Ella, would you be so kind as to give me a hand?”

“Of course!”  replied, Ella, hiding the foreboding she felt welling up in her stomach.  She knew how jealous Irene became if she wasn’t the centre of her lover’s attention.

They had this sibling rivalry since they were teenagers and it still flared up now they were in their thirties.  Irene was a brunette with a perfect hourglass figure and the air of a well-bred lady.  Plump hips, curving into a small waste and flaring back out again to large shapely breasts.  The sort of breasts that hung like fruit on the tree of temptation, thought Ella, with a  flash of her own jealousy.  Irene had the kind of curves that caught the eye of most men and was used to receiving admiring attention.  Surely she could share a little harmless admiration here and there?

Ella was all blonde curls and dimples and was the larger of the two ladies.  Larger curves meant larger breasts.  Ridiculously large.  Her figure may not be quite as perfect an hour-glass but she made up for that with her excessive cleavage.

As soon as the two women were through the hall and out of ear shot, Irene grabbed Ella by the arm and guided her firmly down the hall.  “What do you think you are doing?” hissed Irene.  “If Daddy were here you wouldn’t dare wear such a dress to a family dinner!

“What are you talking about, it’s not that bad! Let go! You are hurting my arm!”

Irene flashed an angry look at her sister but kept her back in perfectly dignified pose as she continued to stride purposefully towards her own quarters.  She didn’t say another word.  Ella didn’t know what was more disconcerting, the fuming silence or the pain in her arm as Irene’s grip tightened.

Finally, Irene relinquished her hold in order to push open the heavy wooden door of her room, revealing luscious cream rugs and a four-poster bed.

“Honestly Ella, I can’t believe you still haven’t grown up!” scolded Irene as she unbuttoned her shirt, revealing an electric blue satin balconette bra that framed her own assets to beautiful  advantage. “It is completely inappropriate for you to wear something like that to dinner.”

“Really Irene, I don’t know why you worry so much.  Harold loves you, he was just having a little peek.  Men do that, they can’t help themselves.”

“You always do this!  You down play the havoc you cause with your immodest dress.  Did you see how uncomfortable poor uncle Victor was!”  She said unzipping her navy linen skirt and letting it pool around her ankles to reveal matching blue satin knickers and a suspender belt holding up seamed stockings.

“I see you have romantic plans for the evening,” Ella teased, “Perhaps tonight’s entertainment will turn out to be good for you after all.  It may bring out the passion in old Harold.”

Refusing to rise to the bait, Irene strode over her to her carved, rosewood wardrobe and selected a simple, elegant, black dress.   She pulled it up over her ripe round bottom and straightened the snug fit around her tiny waist.

“Come here and give me a hand with the zip will you?”

Ella did as she was asked but showed no signs of apology.

Irene’s face was once again the picture of perfect calm as she smoothed her hair and adjusted her earrings in the mirror.  She contemplated Ella in the reflection over her shoulder.

“So think you are coming to the Greek Islands with me this summer do you?”  she asked dangerously calm.

Ella tidied her hair nervously. She recognised that tone and knew her sister was up to something.

“Well yes!” A hint of uncertainty and defensiveness coloured her voice.  “Harold has invited me directly,  you heard.  You know how much I have always wanted to go.”

“Hmmm… I think perhaps he may be persuaded to change his mind about that.”

Ella’s eyes widened.  “Come now, there is no need to be like that.  I know you feel a little jealous right now but it will all blow over in a jiffy and Harold will be all over you in a bikini when we get to Greece”.

“Really?  You still haven’t learned have you.  You have no idea how uncomfortable you make everyone when you wear a dress like that!  You are such a child!  If only daddy was still here to bend you over his knee for a spanking like he did when we were young.  Though perhaps if he had of spanked you more often, you would not be so spoiled now.”

“Oh ha ha.  Now you are just being spiteful.”  snorted Ella

“No actually I am quite serious.  I really have had enough of you flirting with my boyfriends.  I have reached the very end of my tether.  You can prove to me that you have learned your lesson and changed, or no Greek Island adventures for you.”

Worried now, Ella paused and fidgeted with a blonde ringlet, trying to think of a way to pacify her sister.

“Look Irene, it really isn’t that big of a deal… “ she began but was cut off by the icy look Irene shot her.

“Alright, I will go and get changed if it bothers you that much.  Though your lovely Harold may wonder why both of us got changed when wine was only spilled on your blouse.”

“No it is too late for that.  I really want proof you’ve changed.  I can’t have you bouncing those breasts of yours all around the Aegean if I can’t trust that you’ve truly learned your lesson.  You will have to satisfy me or miss out on the holiday.”

Ella sighed impatiently, “Ok fine.  What is it you want me to do?”

A brief smile flashed across Irene’s face.  She could see several moves ahead in this game of chess and could take her sweet time.  Ella had no idea she had already lost.

“I want to give you the spanking you deserve.  If you are going to be so childish, I am going to treat you like a child and give you a sound spanking just like daddy would have.”

Ella just scoffed dismissively.

Irene did not smile.  She stood there, dignified, with one eyebrow raised.

“Oh I am perfectly serious sister dear.  What is more, you will take whatever punishment I choose to dish out until I am satisfied that you have learned your lesson.  That, or miss out on the holiday.  It is up to you.”

Ella’s smile faded as it began to dawn on her that her sister was not messing about.

“You are not serious!”  protested Ella clinging to denial.  “You know how much I want to come on holidays with you!”

Ella begged and pleaded but Irene would not be moved.  It was a sound spanking or no Greece.  Seeing that her only hope of bathing in sun bedazzled water and flirting with shirtless sailors, was to get back on Irene’s good side, she reasoned to herself that a spanking would be over very quickly, but a holiday would last all summer…

Still not really believing she was doing this, Ella said, “So you will be happy with a spanking?  That will sort your mood out and we can all get on with having a lovely time?”

“A proper spanking and suitable punishment until I am satisfied you have truly learned your lesson,” Irene repeated.

“Ok fine, if it will get you out of this sour mood!” conceded Ella rolling her eyes.

irenes-dresserA slight smile curled the corner of Irene’s mouth as she re-applied her frosted berry lipstick in the dresser mirror.  She was silent as she dabbed a little perfume on both wrists and then, taking her time, turned around.  Leaning back on the dresser’s edge, she contemplated her half-sister.  After several weighted moments she reached a conclusion and pronounced it in definite tones, “Go into Daddy’s office and assume the position he used to insist on.  Wait for me there.”

Ella laughed nervously.  “Are you serious?”

Irene replied serenely, “I couldn’t be more serious sister dear.  I am fed up and now I am going to do what should have been done a long time ago.  Go now and wait for me.”  She turned back to the mirror as though Ella’s obedience was an unarguable certainty.

Ella paused but the thought of being left behind while everyone sent postcards from her dream holiday irked her too much.  Besides, it couldn’t be too bad.  The spanking would have to be over quickly she repeated to herself, or else everyone at the dinner table would wonder what had happened to them.  They would not start the next course until both women returned.  Yes, just a quick spanking and it will all be over. As ridiculous as this is, I shall just play along and let Irene have her little power play.  She will feel better soon. Then we can all get on with the fun.”  She slipped out the door and down the hall, red satin slippers silent on thick carpets.

As with all these old houses, artwork hung on the walls with candlesticks and vases on elegantly carved side tables were dispersed at intervals.  She passed a portrait of daddy and glanced up.  He was Irene’s daddy too. How formal and stern he looked in this painting!  His temples greying against his dark curly hair and neatly trimmed beard. Oh how she missed him!  He was such a strong, supportive presence in their lives.  True, he had occasionally had to discipline both girls, and their brother Freddie too, but he had only ever done so for their own good.

Ella rubbed her bottom unconsciously as she remembered being bent over his study chair.  “Irene is right”, she thought, “Daddy wouldn’t be pleased with me wearing this dress.  I guess I hadn’t thought it all the way through…. Still, he is gone now and I am a grown woman.  Besides it was harmless really.  All men look! I can’t help it if I am well endowed”.

office-book-caseShe wandered further down the hall until she reached the brass door handle of daddy’s office.  She hadn’t been in there in years.  As the door creaked open she let out a little gasp.  It was all exactly as he had left it!

His heavy wooden desk dominated the room with it’s carved lion paw legs and leather banker’s top.  A large ornately framed mirror hung on the wall behind his high-backed brown leather chair.  Surrounded on both sides of the mirror were floor to ceiling bookcases full of all her father’s favourites.

Ella kicked her shoes off and sunk her toes into the rug.  Wow, just coming back in here made her feel like a young girl again.  She spun slowly taking it all in. Lamps, maps and oddities her father had picked up on his travels filled every available surface.  Another mirror leaned against the wall by the door. She remembered her father telling her it was too large to hang.  When she was young, she never thought to question why a man would want so many mirrors in his study but now she was older, it struck her as a little odd.

But then she saw the red velvet armchair and forgot all about it.  It was the chair that her long-dead mother used to sit and read in and Daddy had never had the heart to remove it. He had long imaginary conversations with her memory even well after he re-married.  Perhaps he even discussed how to raise her, mused Ella.  But this chair also had another history…

Daddy had spanked his offspring in different positions depending on the severity of the misdemeanour.  If he was giving them a hand spanking for something naughty but not too bad, he would bend them over his knee.  If the crime warranted a bigger swing than was possible sitting down, he had them lean on their elbows on the red velvet armchair raising their bottoms high to make an easy target.  If they were really bad, they had to bend over the desk so their full weight was supported should their knees buckle.

Ella had never been made to bend over the desk but she remembered watching red-faced Freddie bent over it as he received the strap followed by the cane on the day he crashed his mother’s car.  The whole family had been marched in to witness his disgrace and he had been made to lower his pants in front of them all!

Ella shuddered remembering how sore his bottom had looked after that sound thrashing!

Suddenly the door creaked open behind her.  She hadn’t heard Irene walking down the hall across those thick carpets.

“You aren’t taking this seriously at all are you!” She tutted severely as she swung the door open.  “I told you to assume the position and here you are daydreaming!  You are only going to make this worse on yourself you know.”

“Fine!” retorted Ella, rebellion warring with desire to make peace and get it over with.   She strode over to the red armchair with exaggerated fawning obedience and bent over, leaning on her elbows for support like she had as a young girl.  “Yes Ma’am!”

Irene was silent.  She didn’t say a word or make a move to come closer.  Ella began to feel awkward, and a burn of embarrassment rise in her cheeks.  She felt silly bent over in front of her grown sister but stubbornly refused to turn around and see what Irene was doing.

Still the silence continued.  A soundless battle of wills.  Both women determined not to let the other get the upper hand.

Eventually Irene spoke.  “I don’t think you should be afforded the protection of that dress, sister dear” she said with quiet confidence.  “It will only serve to lessen the sting.  No it will have to be lifted out of the way”.  Before, Ella could protest, she stepped forward and swiftly raised the hem of Ella’s offending dress, sliding it up over her round bottom and folding it neatly on her waist.

Ella tensed, shocked, but was determined not to give Irene any more satisfaction than necessary.  She didn’t know how to respond.  Her mind raced.  Here she was a grown woman,  nearly forty years old and her little sister was determined to make this punishment as humiliating as possible by lifting her dress and exposing her knickers!  Frantically, she tried to remember what underwear she had thoughtlessly put on that morning.

Irene stood back and admired the effect her action had on her sister. She had noticed Ella’s quickened breath.  Her plump, creamy bottom was framed in full-brief black satin underwear and matching stay up stockings.

“Planning on seducing someone wearing those stockings were we?”  asked Irene with deadly calm.

“No not at all!” Ella exclaimed, realising that her choice of undergarments would ignite Irene’s jealousy all the more.  Especially if she thought she had designs on Harold!

“You really have no shame do you sister?” Irene shook her head, her face the picture of offended modesty.  She tapped her black patent shoes against floor in irritation.

“Well if you insist on having your breasts out for the whole world to see, I don’t see why you shouldn’t also have your bottom exposed.  It seems fitting considering how you got into this mess after all!”

Irene reached out and slipped her thumbs underneath Ella’s underwear  and began to pull them down.

“Are you serious!” croaked a mortified Ella, standing up in horror and wriggling to get away.

“Absolutely!  You keep asking that and I assure you I am serious. It is time you learned the price of your immodesty and since our daddy isn’t here to teach you I shall just have to take you in hand myself.  Now stand still.  I won’t believe you have learned your lesson until you understand the impact your actions have on others and show you are willing to make amends by taking your deserved punishment.

Ella just stood there in disbelief.  Did her sister really want her to bare her bottom!   She stared at her Irene, trying, and failing, to come up with a response.  She gapped but no words came out.  All rebuffs had fled her mind.  It really was a no win situation.

After several tense moments she realised that her only choice was to protest and lose her trip to Greece or obey and get this over with.   Feeling thoroughly embarrassed she painstakingly bent back over the chair, gripped the arm to stop herself from leaping up again and submitted to Irene’s humiliating directions.

Irene made a small sound of victory in her throat and leaned forward in a cloud of musky perfume and self-satisfaction. Again she hooked her thumbs under the elastic and theatrically pulled down her sister’s underwear.  She took her time knowing full well the embarrassment she was stirring in her sibling.  She pulled them down low enough to ensure no modesty remained but then let them bunch neatly.  She was fastidiously neat and always had been.

Then she stood back to enjoy the effect.  She knew she had hit the mark because Ella’s breathing was a short and sharp despite her attempts to hide her shame.  Teaching Ella her lesson was not without its enjoyment.

The bottom before her was a lovely one.  Not the rear of a slender young teenager but rather full, ripe, woman’s buttocks.  Plump, soft and inviting.  Ella’s body rather reminded Irene of renaissance nudes, only with larger breasts.  Somehow the loveliness of Ella’s rear only incense her more. It seemed to Irene that the whiteness of her sister’s skin was crying out to be marked crimson for her unladylike crimes.

“Are you feeling embarrassed Ella?” she asked.

“Well yes, this is a bit unusual!”  replied Ella, attempting to keep her dignity.

“Really! Well now you know how I felt when you humiliated me in front of the entire family with your display, flirting with Harold like that!  Goodness knows what they think of me now!  You really deserve to feel utterly embarrassed by your own behaviour but since you do not seem to have the sense to, I shall make you feel it now as part of your punishment.”

Ella groaned.  She should have known it wouldn’t be as simple as a quick spanking.  Irene was a woman scorned.

Spankee Artemisia de Vine Spanker Electra Amore

Spankee Artemisia de Vine Spanker Electra Amore

And then, without warning, came the first jolting slap.  It surprised all thought from Ella’s mind! Before she could even yelp, the first was followed closely by the staccato ring of five more hard spanks that left her breathless and wriggling to get out of the way.

Irene was business-like in her delivery.  Open handed stings, one after the other.  The shock of it made Ella bounce forward and squeal.  She hadn’t been ready for that!

“Oh hold still, you baby!  That is only child’s play.  I plan on warming your bottom nicely before we rejoin the others.  The more you wriggle about the worse it will be for you. Now get back in position.”  Irene’s voice was all confident command now that she felt in control again.

Ella slumped forward before she could catch herself.  It had hurt a lot more than she remembered but it had been a couple of decades since she had been forced to suffer this indignity.

“If you do not get back in position Ella, I will have to assume you have changed your mind on our deal.”

With reluctant obedience, Ella centred herself, weight resting on her forearms so she could raise her bottom high as she had been taught.  Strange how it all came flooding back… all those instructions on how to hold yourself in the way that was expected by her father.

However that wasn’t good enough for Irene.  She took hold of Ella’s shapely hips and re-positioned her, arching her back even further making Ella feel even more exposed.

“What is more, sister dear,” continued Irene in her patronising voice,  I want to know you appreciate the effort I am taking to bring you back in line… for you own good… and the good of the family.  I want you to demonstrate your gratefulness and thank me after each set of six spanks and politely ask me for more.  If I think you have learned your lesson I will stop.  If not, I will comply with your request and continue to dish out your discipline. Do you understand me?”

Ella realised that she was not going to get out of this with her dignity anywhere near in tact and decided her best plan was doing her utmost to please her sister to make this whole ordeal end as soon as possible.

“Yes Irene” she agreed, trying to keep the sullenness out of her voice.

“Yes ma’am”, you will call me ma’am until this is all over.  After all wasn’t it you who started that with your earlier sarcasm? Besides, you lost your right to be my equal when you jiggled your breasts like bait on a hook in front of my boyfriend.  Like a tramp!  A proper hussy! You weren’t brought up to behave that way now were you?” lectured Irene gaining momentum.

Then without waiting for an answer she began spanking her sister hard.

“One, two, three, four, five, six!”

Ella reeled. She gasped and couldn’t think clearly. She hadn’t expected her sister to be so strong!  She had hardly time to catch her breath when Irene tapped her foot impatiently and demanded, “I’m waiting!”

Ella gritted her teeth.  “Thank you ma’am, may I please have another set of six?”

Oh my she was never going to live this down!  Irene was going to lord it over her all summer now.

Whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack!

Ella’s bottom was really getting hot now!

“Thank you ma’am, may I please have another set of six?”  It was just so grating having to ask for more.  She longed to rub her sore bottom but didn’t dare provoke her sister further.

Irene’s arm showed no sign of tiring as she delivered another round of stinging retribution.  It seemed as though she was going to keep it up all night!  Each slap bit into Ella’s soft flesh, and sent it jiggling.

Several more rounds of this passed and it seemed as though Irene would never be satisfied.  She continued to imprint her no-nonsense lesson into her sister’s flesh until finally, Ella burst out sobbing.  “Please!  I am sorry!  I can’t take any more!  Please, I’ve had enough!”

“There, there!” cooed Irene, rubbing her sister’s sore bottom to comfort it.  “You say you are sorry is that right?”

“Yes I am very sorry!”

“Maam.  Say I am sorry ma’am”.

“I… I am sorry ma’am”  choked Ella between sobs, relieved that the ordeal was over.  Irene’s hands felt so lovely and cool on her sore, swollen bottom.

“But interestingly,” continued Irene, “What I heard is that you only apologised because you wanted the spanking to stop.  Not because you have really learned your lesson at all.”  She paused for effect and let that sink in, then continued,  “I will tell you what.  I will stop spanking you and let you return to the family meal if you agree to continue this punishment after dinner.  That will give you some time to recover and think about your actions.  Perhaps you will form a more genuine apology then.  Otherwise we can just continue with the spanking now.  It is your choice”.

Ella’s poor bottom was so red!  She couldn’t bare the thought of another round of spanking so she reluctantly agreed and stood up to cover herself.

“Oh, and there is one more thing…” said Irene with the air of one springing a trap, “You are to feel the sting of embarrassment that you caused me for the rest of the meal”.

Ella looked around and wiped her tears.  What was this new turn of events?

“Did you know that uncle Victor was telling me the most fascinating story just the other day, continued Irene, fumbling around in her handbag.  “Do you know what they used to do to young girls caught in inappropriate self… er… young ladies with promiscuous inclinations shall we say… back in Victorian times?”

“Er no…”  said Ella nervously.

ginger-figging-spanking-ck“They were quite clever, our forebears.  They had to train inappropriate behaviour out of the young ladies and they had just the method to do it.  They used these!”  she said reaching into her tan leather handbag and producing something wrapped in a handkerchief.  She began unwrapping it to reveal a yellowish tan object.

Ella leaned closer for a better look.  At first she wasn’t sure what she was looking at and then she caught its scent.

“Is that ginger?”  she asked puzzled.

“Yes my dear, it is indeed.  I have taken the time to skin it and carve it into a suitable plug shape especially for you”.

“What are you going to do with it?” asked Ella eyes growing wide with suspicion.

“Why I am going to do just what our ancestors did when a woman behaved like a little hussy.  Have you heard of figging my dear sister? If you think with your lady parts, then I shall teach you not to.  Now bend over”.

“What!”  spluttered Ella.

“You heard me.  Bend over.  Unless of course you would prefer me to continue spanking you?  We have been gone some time now and someone is sure to come looking for us.  Imagine if it is uncle Victor who opens the door to the site of your bare bottom.  You will have to explain to him exactly why you are in this predicament.  Would you prefer that?”

Ella was horrified!

“If it is cousin Jack they send to fetch us, I doubt he will keep his mouth shut.  He will find the whole thing terribly amusing!”

“Ok, ok!”  Ella agreed in desperation, “I’ll do it!”  Her whole face rivaled tomatoes for redness, as she bent back over.  Even her ears burned crimson to match her bottom.

inserting-ginger-figgging-sydney-spankee-ck“That’s right dear, now arch your back so I have a good view of that bottom of yours.  Stand with your feet a foot apart. Quick smart!”  Irene clapped her hands smartly.

Disbelievingly, Ella obeyed.  She had gone through too much now to miss out on Greece.  If she did not commit to the ordeal until the end, all she had already suffered would be for nothing.  She had to submit to her jealous sister’s retribution.

Something cold, hard and moist slid up her thigh and between her legs.  Her sister’s warm fingers spread her gently but firmly open and she felt the tip of the ginger nestling against her lady parts.  Irene made sure to get ginger juice everywhere sensitive before gently pushing the root inside her sister.  She pushed it in deep but left the flared based on the outside for easy removal.  This method also ensured the ginger juices would rub against the most sensitive area near the opening.

“Stay there, I am not quite done.” commanded Irene.  Ella groaned.  What now?

She felt a second ginger root plug against her buttocks.  Where had that come from?

Irene slipped a knee between Ella’s thighs,  and use it to push them further apart.  Once Irene was happy that Ella’s position made her nicely open and available, she spread her buttocks without preamble. “Now remember you brought this on yourself sister dear” Irene smirked, as she began to roll the tip of the ginger root around Ella’s alarmed pucker.  Taking her time to work her sister’s hole open, she slowly inserted the second root in her bottom.  Two roots!

Ella couldn’t quite believe what was happening! It didn’t seem real. She felt so full and uncomfortable!

Reverting back to business-like efficiency, Irene pulled Ella’s underwear up over her smarting bottom and gave her buttock one last satisfied slap.

“If you are to prove that you are genuinely sorry, you will make recompense by wearing those ginger plugs for the rest of the meal.  Each time you feel them, you will remember that the shame of it is a reminder of the humiliation you put me through earlier.  The sensation of the roots will remind you to check your behaviour and ensure it is ladylike and modest.  However, you are not to change out of that dress!  You are to wear your bosom out for all to see for the rest of the meal, knowing what a disgrace you are.  You wanted to put yourself on display after all…”

Ella stood up slowly.  She felt the rough fibres of the ginger root nestled inside her.  It was a strange, hard feeling.  Even more disconcerting was that a part of her felt pleasure against her will.  Still she couldn’t believe her sister would do this to her!  It felt so invasive!

“Come now, we must get back.”  Irene grasped Ella by the arm and pushed her out into the hall in front of her so she could enjoy watching her sister trying to walk normally down the long hall towards the dining room.

corridorElla stumbled, straightened and then stepped carefully, keeping her back erect.  She tried walking one way, and then another but nothing seemed to make the alien objects feel any less intrusive.  One painstaking step after the other…  Try as she might, she couldn’t quite achieve a normal gate.

Irene laughed quietly.  “ Quickly now, they will be wondering where we have got to!”

Just as they walked through the entrance of the dining room, the burning sensation began.  Ella stumbled a little as stinging heat began to pulse in her most delicate of areas and her face blushed full sunset crimson.  Oh what was this new hell?  She longed to rub herself to get some relief.  She half turned to duck back into the hall.

“There you two are!” bellowed Harold in his American accent.  “We were about to send out a search party!”  The whole table turned to witness the two women’s entrance.  Ella felt their eyes burning into her.  She had never felt so naked!   With her bottom smarting and her privates on fire she was sure they all knew!  She was suddenly aware of how little her dress actually covered.

“Are you ok Ella dear?” asked her step mother, sounding concerned.  “You look rather unwell.”

Irene leaned in and hissed in Ella’s ear.  “You are to stay the whole meal and then meet me in daddy’s office afterwards for your finale or the deal is off.”
“No I’m fine, really.”  Ella unconvincingly replied to her step mother.  “Please I am fine.  Don’t let me hold you all up any longer.  Let’s begin the next course.”

She felt as though the distance to the dining table had suddenly extended to the length of a foot ball field.  She was sure that everyone could tell she was walking strangely and each awkward step seemed an exercise in slow motion humiliation.  Worse, she couldn’t hurry because each movement made more ginger juice release and mingled with her own natural juices, trickle down into every fold and crevice. Each sway of her hip as she walked made the burn became so much more intense.

Finally, after what seemed an age,  she reached her destination.  However, instead of relief she face a new ordeal.  She winced as she sat down on the hard chair.  Both her sore bottom and the movement of the slightly protruding ginger plugs reminded her rudely of her predicament.  She experimented, rocking backwards and forwards trying to find a comfortable position but it was no good.  As soon as one area got some relief, the other area experienced more pressure.   It took all her self control not to wriggle and fidget as another wave of burning ginger juice took effect.

Irene’s mood was utterly transformed from earlier.  She played the lady, all full of graciousness and banter, talking to all the guests.  No one would have guessed what had passed between the sister’s only moment before.  Or perhaps this marked change in both women would mean they did suspect… did they?  Ella blushed again hoping they did not.

quail-asparigus

She sat miserably at the table feeling terribly exposed.  She became ever so aware of her under-covered bosom just as Irene predicted.  She blushed whenever anyone spoke to her and was so polite and demur that Harold loudly exclaimed he thought her a different person to the sister-in-law-to-be he had been bantering with only twenty minutes before.  He had such a loud voice and kept drawing the attention of the whole gathering back to Ella over and over again.  However instead of enjoying it this time, she cringed and tried to deflect the attention back to her sister.

Irene’s eyes glittered with amusement as she watched Ella squirm under the attention she had previously enjoyed so much.  Despite this sign of Irene’s appeasement, each time Harold’s eyes lingered a split second longer than they should on Ella’s cleavage, Ella sense of dread increased.  What would happen to her when she was next alone in daddy’s study with Irene?

Ella’s senses were heightened and she became sensitive to everything around her.  Everything her family said seemed to be an accusation in disguise.  The meal dragged on.  Several people asked for second helpings of quail and asparagus, drawing out the process even longer.  Ella couldn’t concentrate and left her own meal hardly touched.

The worst of it was when Uncle Victor, the insufferable, self righteous, religious one of the family, leaned in close to her and began talking to her about the sermon he had particularly enjoyed last Sunday.  It was terribly confusing to have burning and, well, confusing feelings in her lady parts while her uncle was talking about the bible to her!

bible-smiteOh how he droned on, his eyes boring into her intensely!  His yellow teeth obliviously chattering a condemnation of her sins. Or at least that is what it seemed like to poor Ella but he couldn’t really know.   Could he?

“It isn’t in fashion to preach from the old testament any more but I find comfort in the clarity severity brings don’t you?”  He asked without waiting for an answer.  “The God of the old testament was much more decisive!  If one strayed from the path, He wasn’t afraid to send them swift and just retribution to bring them back in line.  He wasn’t caught in any namby pamby political correctness!  The Almighty is the very definition of justice!”

Did he know?  No! No? Of course he didn’t.  Did he?

Irene took perverse delight in asking Ella to pass her various things.  Usually directly after Harold had paid a little too much attention to Ella.  Irene deliberately chose objects that required Ella to lean forward and stretch out in order to comply.  This had the unpleasant effect of rocking the protruding parts of the ginger against the chair and starting another round of burning as more juice was released.  Ella was forced to smile politely at her sister as she passed her one object or another, all the while feeling a renewed alarming sensations in her nether regions.  Irene maintained piercing eye contact as she leaned back forcing Ella to lean ever further forward in order to achieve her task of passing the salt or sauce.

Finally, dessert was brought out and placed in front of each member of the family.  Baked pears with almonds and… “What is that lovely spicy flavour I detect Miss Brown?” asked cousin Jack.

pears“Cinnamon and ginger,”  she replied amicably.

This was just too much for poor Ella to bear.  She dropped her spoon with a loud clatter and it sprayed ginger covered pear juice all over the tablecloth before it clanged loudly to the floor.  This is the second time that evening that the carpets suffered new marks.

Of course, all the noisy fuss meant all eyes turned to Ella again and she was forced to struggle to keep her composure as she bent down to pick up the slippery silverware from the ground.  She wished the earth wold swallow her whole! The position she was forced to get in to reach for her spoon really did make certain hidden objects notably uncomfortable and she couldn’t help a small grunting moan escape her lips.  She felt sure she would die of shame right there.  With the private parts pulsing alarmingly and all eyes boring into her… Irene was stifling a laugh in her napkin…

Would it ever end?

Eventually it did. The last spoon scraped across the delicate china ware and the last morsel of desert was licked from the corner of aunt Rachel’s mouth.  The family began pushing back their chairs and moving away from the table.

Irene came around behind Ella and whispered in her ear.  “I think it is time for you to retire to the office.  I shall be a bit longer of course.  This time I expect you to assume the position properly.  Lean over the desk this time.  Expose your bottom in preparation for me and wait.”

Ella’s stomach sunk.  The desk!  That meant Irene had saved the worst till last.  She didn’t know if she could take anymore!  However, if she didn’t go through with it till the very end, all she had suffered would be for naught.  It seemed the further she got into this mess, the more committed she became to getting through till the end.  She couldn’t go back now.

Far more contritely, than her earlier brash self, she whispered quietly, “Yes Irene”.

“Yes who?” asked Irene with a meaningful eyebrow raise.

Ella’s heart skipped a beat.  Every one seemed busy talking amongst themselves and not paying attention, but what if someone overheard?  Still she didn’t dare refuse.

“Yes Maam”.  She said, madly blushing.

“Much better”.

****

Artemisia de Vine

Artemisia de Vine

As soon as Ella was alone she rubbed her poor burning parts.  How she had longed to all meal but hadn’t been able to.  The burning had settled down now but the uncomfortable roots remained in place, reminding her of their offensive effects.

This time, she did not dawdle.  She went straight to her father’s large wooden desk and leaned across it.  The cool leather felt soothing against her breasts.

As she reached down to lift her own skirts as per her instructions, she caught a glimpse of herself in the large mirror behind the desk.  In the reflection was also the large mirror behind her on the wall.  She was horrified to realised she could see herself from every humiliating angle.

Had her father done this deliberately?  How strange!

Still, unwilling to give Irene more ammunition, she hurriedly lifted her dress and lowered her underwear.  The little knobs of ginger protruded rudely but stayed in place.

And she waited… this time Irene was in no hurry.  Ella was left to look at herself in this humiliating position in all the mirrors and consider what had gotten her into this situation.

From this angle she could see that yes she really was exposing a dangerous amount of bosom.  When she leaned over like this, they very nearly fell right out!  She was unable to look away herself and had to concede that yes it was a rather distracting thing to wear to a family dinner.  No wonder Harold had been unable to stop peeking at her!

Still, she waited.  Her bottom exposed to the door.  Should anyone but Irene walk in she would but thoroughly humiliated indeed!

Finally she heard voices in the corridor.  It was Irene and who was that she was talking to?  She heard low talking and then loudly, “Ok good night dear!  I will be with you shortly.  I just have one last thing to finish up before I come to bed”.

Then in she walked.  Her eyes caught Ella’s in the reflection and held them like a spotlight…. Irene was fully exposed to her sister and felt about an inch tall.  She could not get away from that all seeing gaze.

Instead of walking in and closing the door behind her, Irene leaned against the door frame with one hand hiding something behind her back.   The effect sent panic through Ella.  Although no one was in the hall, anyone could wander by at any time… yet Irene seem unconcerned.

“And what have we learned this evening Ella?” She asked with disconcerting confidence, making no attempt to keep her voice down.  We will be going ahead with this next phase of discipline no matter how well you apologise but I hope you have had a very good think about your behaviour and have prepared a suitable apology because the severity of your next punishment depends entirely on how convinced I am.”

With that, she produced a cane from behind her back and flexed it suggestively.

“ The cane!  I have never been caned before!  Where on earth did you get a cane from?”

“From me,” said a male voice as another figure stepped through the door.  It was uncle Victor clothed in religious zeal, twitching nose radiating judgement!

His eyes darted down as he took in the full picture before him.  “Hmmm… quite the spectacle!  But then again you are used to making a spectacle of yourself aren’t you my dear.”  He said without emotion.

Ella felt a wave of humiliation rise like fire through her whole body.  Her hands automatically darted to pull down her dress and cover herself.

Electra Amore roleplays Irene & Artemisia de Vine play Ella

Electra Amore roleplays Irene & Artemisia de Vine play Ella

“Don’t you dare move sister!” warned Irene darting forward and placing the tip of the cane under Ella’s chin.

“Uncle Victor is daddy’s brother and since daddy can’t be here to pull you in line, I have had a good talk with Uncle Victor.  He too had noticed your outrageous behaviour of late and agreed something needed to be done about it.  You will stay in this position and be witnessed in your disgrace.
“It is my duty, of course, to preserve the harmony in this family as far as possible now that my brother has gone.  When Irene talked of your ongoing problematic behaviour earlier this week, we came up with a plan.”

“He had known!”  thought Ella,  “That hateful man!  Oh how Irene must be loving this!  She knows how much Uncle Victor gets under my skin.”

And then out loud, “Wait a minute! You planned this?  Earlier this week?!”

“Yes sister, we did.  Tonight is not a one off.  Your behaviour has been unacceptable for some time.  We knew that it would only be a matter of time before you did something we could make an example of.”

Electra roleplays Irene telling off Ella (Artemisia)

Electra roleplays Irene telling off Ella (Artemisia)

Ella fumed!  She had been tricked into this!  Yet she didn’t dare move.  There she was, bent over and exposed with the ginger roots effectively nailing her to the desk… the very punishment uncle Victor had told Irene about! Yet she dared not stand up.  She had come too far now.  She felt weak in the knees and grasped the edge of the desk with white knuckled desperation.

“Yes, while I am the man of this house now that your father is gone, it would have been inappropriate for me to administer this particular punishment.  We had to arrange it so that your sister would be the one to perform that little procedure.”

He continued, “Your grandfather used to dish out discipline to your father and I when we were growing up and it did us the world of good.  He was a strong believer that physical pain was not enough of a deterrent on its own.  He believed that a punishment should also be embarrassing in order to be effective and should suit the nature of the misdemeanour or character flaw.  Your flaw, is flaunting and mis-using your womanly wiles so this is the most appropriate way to purge you of this habit.  Your father was too lenient on you after your mother died Ella, and it shows.  I am here to make up for that lack.  I hope tonight’s demonstration has hit the mark.

Now, for your apology.  I am here to witness and decide the severity of your caning depending on how convinced we are that you have learned your lesson.”

Ella gulped.  She could see herself in all the mirrors and multiple reflections of her relatives too.  It seemed that the room was full of jealous sisters and looming religious zealot uncles, all witnessing her disgrace.  Fractal accusations of her character.  She had better make this good.

“I hadn’t realised that I had been causing such a problem!  It all seemed harmless to me but I see now that I have been selfish.  I have created distance between you and Harold, Irene, and for that I am sorry. I shall be much more considerate in future”.

Her words were met with silence.

“I really am sorry”.  She added hastily and was surprised to find she meant it.  “I was childish and inappropriate”.

After a little more silence, her uncle finally spoke.  “Do you agree that you caused pain to your sister and deserve to feel pain in return?

“Yes I suppose that is true.  Yes I do deserve to receive the cane.  The pain of losing Harold would have been far worse than canes.  I will accept my punishment.”

Irene nodded triumphantly.

“Six of the best and we will say no more of it,” pronounced uncle Victor.  He fully entered the room and finally shut the door behind him much to Ella’s relief.  He then sat down, sour faced in the red velvet chair and crossed his legs to observe proceedings.

Irene moved over and tested the cane by swishing it through the air.

“You will thank me after each stroke as before, counting as we go,” pronounced Irene.

“Yes Maam,”  replied a contrite Ella.

Electra Amore playing Irene & Artemisia de Vine playing Ella bare bottom

Electra Amore playing Irene & Artemisia de Vine playing Ella bare bottom

Irene stood to one side of her sister and reached down to hold her by the hips, adjusting Ella’s bottom so it was in the most convenient position.  She then began tapping the cane against her sister’s bottom to practice her aim.  It was still a little pink from her earlier spanking.  Irene took her time.  Then, the cane whizzed through the air and bit neatly into Ella’s flesh.

A red welt raised immediately and Ella gasped!  Even with her new attitude, she wasn’t ready for how much the cane would hurt and she nearly forgot to thank her sister.

“One thank you Ma’am, may I please have another?”  she wheezed trying to catch her breath.

Before she had time to gather herself fully, the next stroke was whirring through the air with surprising accuracy.  When had Irene learned to use the cane?

All thoughts of such matters quickly disappeared as the cane hit home of the third time.  Ella’s bottom was on fire!

“Three thank you ma’am, may I please have another”.

Uncle Victor was silent in his chair but Ella was keenly aware of his presence. His self righteousness crawled all over her skin.

Artemisia playing Ella

Artemisia playing Ella

Whoosh! The cane struck again. And again.

“Four thank you ma’am, may I please have another?” Moaned Ella

“Five thank you ma’am, may I please have another?”

And finally, pausing just for moment, Irene struck her sister one last time.

“Six thank you ma’am.”  cried Ella bursting into tears.  “I’m so sorry Irene.  I didn’t know how much I had hurt you.  I really didn’t.  I am sorry”.

“There, there” soothed Irene, rubbing her sister’s bottom in comfort.  “Shshshshs….  It’s all ok.  You’ve learned your lesson and everything will be alright now.

Artemisia as Ella: Six of the best!

Artemisia as Ella: Six of the best!

Irene’s hands were cool and soft on her Ella’s sore bottom caressing the six, neat, red welts in a row.  Ella felt strangely childlike being comforted like this and somehow it really did make her feel better.

“I don’t think you need these anymore either,” said Irene, as she slipped her fingers lower to get a grip on a protruding ginger root.  She gently tugged on it and removed the plug from her sister and dropped it in a near by wastepaper basket.  Then, running her fingers down, she felt for the other root and tenderly removed it too.

“I wonder what the cleaner will think of that!” She laughed gently as the second root joined the first.  Ella looked up at her sister through tear stained eyes and began to giggle too.  The two women turned and hugged closely,  Irene still rubbing poor Ella’s bottom.

Uncle Victor simply said, “Good.  Now kiss and make up like good girls”.    He leaned back, uncrossed and re-crossed his legs in irritating satisfaction as Irene wiped away Ella’s tears and the two women kissed affectionately on the lips.  Things were looking good for a harmonious Greek holiday.

***********
hug-afterwardsRead about Artemisia’s Grand Spanking Adventure coming up in London Oct-Nov 2016.

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Jul 252016
 

Artemisia de Vine discipline role play CKWarning, explicit pics and stories about Sydney-based Mistress Artemisia de Vine and her slave.

Her: “You didn’t!”

Me: “Oh yes I did!”

Her: “No way!”

Me:  “Yes, I absolutely did.  I superglued googly eyes to his cock”.

We two Mistresses laughed till we cried at the diabolical absurdity of it.  Tears literally streaming down our faces.  God I love my job!

Being a sadistic humiliatrix doesn’t always have to be terribly strict and stern.  Sometimes it is just damn entertaining.

Mistress Artemisia's Sydney slave CKThough the scene didn’t start out that way.  He kept me waiting 8mins and this is never a good idea.  I instructed him to enter the shared courtyard bathroom and strip naked.  His clothes were to be placed in a neat pile, with his tribute on top and he was to wait.  Cold…  Knowing it was a bathroom used by those in the offices downstairs…  He obediently waited.  He’s submitted to me several times before and knows it is best to obey…

When I eventually did throw the door open and help myself to his pile of clothes, he looked quite pale.  So nervous he was shaking.  I stood there fully clothed with the door open, knowing anyone could walk up at any time.  He had no where to hide.  I savored his panic and took my time…

“You made me wait 8 minutes!”  I said with a raised eyebrow.  I didn’t need to say another word as the point was clearly made.  His eyes darted behind me to check if anyone was there.

I slowly turned  and walked across the open courtyard.  It is semi private but should a neighbor from a nearby building happen to look at just that moment… I instructed him to walk behind me and I walked slowly and deliberately… him naked and me holding his clothes… him bereft of his only shield should someone walk up the stairs…

Finally I had him inside… His heart was racing, eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light.

I locked his clothes away…

“Today’s rules are very simple”, I said with a cocked head and seductively knowing smile.  I reached over and firmly cupped his chin, tipping his head up… my face inches from his.  Forced, intense eye contact.

“You are to remain erect at all times, but you are not to cum.  If you do cum, you will eat it of course.  I will make you lick every last morsel and we will continue anyway even though you are not aroused.  How you feel about it is irrelevant.  I don’t care if you are no longer enjoying our play because you are not horny.  You will obey anyway and I will not be returning your clothes until I am done with you.

Keeping an erection doesn’t sound too hard now does it?

“No Mistress”

Sydney slave edging, Mistress Artemisia CK“But you must keep that erection no matter what I do to you… We will be bring you right to the brink of climax again and again but you must not cum… This is called edging.  Do you agree to these terms?” I asked, deceptively seductive.  Afterall that sounds like a pleasurable session does it not?

“Yes Mistress”

I let a cruel smile spread slowly across my face as I held his gaze in a vice.  “Good,” I purred.

Now, now, dear readers I shall not give away all my secrets… You need to come submit to my whims to discover my tricks…

Suffice it to say that by the end he didn’t know if he was coming or going.  Two and a half hours of slowly building, pleasure, pain and desperation had him doing anything I wanted.

I had him desperate to keep his erection but made it terribly difficult by insisting he repeat back passages from “The History and Art of The Dominatrix” word for word.  Each mistake or incorrect word had… er… consequences…  Yet focusing on getting the reciting correct made it terribly difficult to maintain his erection… which also had consequences… painful ones.

Rather than opening up, this slave armors himself and steels himself against me… trying to endure everything I throw at him.  I needed him to open and surrender so I was distracting the part of his mind that is normally in the driver’s seat in order to let another part break on through… I did this by making that part of his mind focus on reciting while simultaneously overstimulating him in waves of sensations…  Sensory overload… anal and cock stimulation and torture… Sudden and intense pain…  alternating between nearly cumming and then experiencing pain to bring him back from the edge… over and over…

“The Dominatrix archetype overthrows social norms and conventions, upholding the female position of superiority and power”.  He recited with desperation in his voice…  Trying so hard to get every word correct to avoid that terrible no win, rock and hard place…  How I loved watching his struggle, not knowing what to focus on.

In the end all he could do was surrender…  by that stage he was delerious and he would humiliate and degrade himself in any way at all that pleased me…

Sydney slave superglue googly eyes CK…And what pleased me, amongst other things, was supergluing googly eyes to his cock.   Oh how I laughed and laughed!

His utter submission and eventual orgasm was cosmic.  His ego gave up and away he went… into subspace…

But that is not the end dear readers.  It is in the afterglow of this deliberate madness that some of the most profound things happen.  It is afterwards, in the still quietness where he lay broken and blissed on the floor…  Breathing the way I taught him… That is when he truly was free.

“There is no drug like this!  This is so different!  I haven’t ever felt like this before.  You’ve done it again Mistress!  I think you can’t possibly come up with something new to do me and yet you do every time! And every time we go further!  This is… there are no words… This is just wow!  You really really do know what you are doing.”

“Well done slave.  Well done.” I smile fondly as I stroke his forehead and let him soar.   I glow inside.  Peace, connection and bliss through perversion.   This is my art.

Jul 012016
 

 

Spankee Artemisia de vine CK“We have our tickets to London young lady!”  announced Mr Possum.  “We are off to experience the spanking and corporal punishment scene like you always dreamed.”

“Then we have three months to get our bottoms in peak condition!  We shall just have to embark on a regular regime.”  I replied with cheek.

Although I am a professional disciplinarian and spankee switch here in Sydney, I know that Mr Possum usually likes to be one dishing out the discipline. Still, I will have you note, I have convinced him to try his own medicine on more than one occasion…

Our bottoms!”  He said in half mocking, half serious surprise.  “It is your bottom that needs conditioning!  You administer the cane to all those wayward gentlemen and only sometimes bend over for your own just deserts.  It is your bottom we shall have to prepare in earnest.  We can’t have you letting down the Australian side in London.  I’d be embarrassed if you couldn’t take it with the best of the English spankees.”

Wooden spoon spanking Artemisia Sydney CK“In London, nearly all the gentlemen are switches, Mr Possum.”  I replied with a meaningful eyebrow raise.  “We couldn’t have you letting down the side either…”  I am not sure if that is really true but it serves to wind him up.

And on goes our fun and friendly banter… Mr Possum may be a client of mine but we have found in each other a fabulous ally in our favourite spanking games and a mutual love of all things corporal punishment.

Artemisia de Vine cane corporal Sydney CK waistI call him Mr Possum because on our second session together, he bent me over, panties pulled down, and pointed to the very small tattoo of a Chinese character just above my left buttock.  In the manner of such things, I got ill considered ink when I was young and foolish and hadn’t heard of cultural appropriation.

“What is that!” he said pointing, his voice full of good humoured exasperation. “It says possum doesn’t it! You know how I feel about possums.   That most definitely deserves extra strokes of the strap!”

Artemisia spanks Zoe MontanaHe had earlier told me a terribly amusing story of his war against the possums in his back yard.  Apparently they had the audacity to poop on his fake grass near the pool.  He had tried all manner of things to stop them until one day he reached the end of his rope.

“I’ll show them!  Poop on my grass will they?  Well they can’t poop there if I cut down the damn tree now can they!  So I cut it down to spite them.” he said in smug satisfaction.

I laughed so hard at this image despite feeling very sorry for the poor possums.  He reminded me of one of the characters from the film, “Grumpy Old Men” going to war on neighbourhood annoyances, and now here I was copping a spanking fuelled by possum peevishness.  Ouch! Was my bottom red!  But oh how we both laughed and laughed over that one.

mr possum stunt model croppedI give all my clients nicknames in my head based on our experiences together so from that moment onwards, I mentally dubbed him Mr Possum.  It took me a few more play sessions together before I was game to confess this to him.  Oh boy did I cop another thrashing for that one!  Still, the name stuck and being a good humoured chap, Mr Possum has accepted the alias.

Spanking Switch Artemisia

Spanking Switch Artemisia

Our sessions together progressed with the natural delight one experiences when one finds another true spanking enthusiast.  We kept talking together about the London scene.  While my dear friend, Zoe Montana, tells me that London scene is no longer like it used to be in her days as a professional spanking model, it has, none the less, been built up in my mind as the ultimate place to go to explore the spanking scene.   It has been on my bucket list for some time to go and work/play.

vintage-suitcases-londonOne day Mr Possum came into some good financial fortune.  “You should spend it on a trip to London so we can go experience the spanking scenes together”.  I threw the comment out there not really thinking he would take is seriously.   Yet here we are, tickets to the UK in hand, beginning our grand spanking adventure.  I couldn’t be more delighted!

In honour of our trip, I have started to blog, detailing our experiences together, including our strict regime of regular discipline to makes sure our bottoms are well conditioned in time for our arrival on 9th October 2016.  We have 5 weeks to experience as much as we can.
With this in mind, I want to reach out to all my UK spanking contacts and those in the scene I am yet to befriend.  I would be so very delighted if you would aid Mr Possum and I in our spanking quest by inviting us to spanking parties, introducing us to the right people and generally pointing us in the right direction.

Mr Possum is currently doing his research to see which professional spankees he would like to visit.  I can vouch for him that he is a respectful gentleman who is fabulous to play with, even though he will leave your bottom rather sore.

From left to right Artemisia de Vine, Harper, Zoe Montana & Molly Malone

From left to right Artemisia de Vine, Harper, Zoe Montana & Molly Malone

I intend to place an advert on spankee finder as a switch because I always wanted to experience being a disciplinarian and spankee in London.  I understand there is a whole different culture around the scene than there is here in Australia.  I look forward to learning about it first hand.  The anthropologist in my is tickled pink.  (Yes I my degree was a major in Anthropology, but I found I preferred a career in kink).

Here in Sydney, I am also a professional Mistress.  I see the BDSM scene and the spanking scene as quite distinct from each other.  Each has its own intentions, practice and flavor.  Although there is overlap between the two, there are noticeably different cultures around each.  While our trip to London is primarily about experiencing the spanking and discipline scene, I also hope to peek into the BDSM scene, but that is a subject for another blog.

13127-artemisia-set01-055

Artemisia disciplining Molly Malone & Zoe Montana

Back to blushing bottoms and chastised disobedience.  As part of the blog I am starting for this trip, I am also starting a special section on my website for spanking stories, some of which I have written myself and others that have been written by my clients.

Mr Possum has written a fabulous series of spanking stories and I will be releasing one of them every week.   Read the first instalment of Jennifer’s embarrassing, fully naked, introduction to the strap by her lady friend and neighbour.

Chapter 1: Jennifer’s Transformation

Chapter 2: A Plan for Jennifer

Chapter 3:  Help for Jennifer

If you would like to submit your stories to my site, contact me here.

Lady spanked mirrorIMG_7257-2 copySome of my own stories are pure spanking scene and others of mine diverge a little.  I quite enjoy scenes that include the humiliation of punishment and sometimes stray into dubious territory of blackmail.  “If you don’t take this discipline, that you thoroughly deserve and is really for your own good, I will tell your parents… include the police… have to fire you… tell your wife… etc.”  Something about the humiliation of being forced to comply really works for me.  Corner time and being made to strip naked against all desire to keep dignity… oh yes!

Spankee Artemisia

Spankee Artemisia

Spanking stories, of course, are limited in that they only tap into the fantasy of spanking role plays.  In reality, spanking scenes can actually be a lot more varied than that.  Sometimes one just wants a sensual slow build up that leads to a crescendo of blissfully painful cane strokes… This can not only lead to a feeling of release but, with intentional breath work, can lead to quite deliriously ecstatic states of being.

Sometimes, one needs a thorough and harsh punishment that brooks no nonsense.  Sometimes one wants to tap into role play or re-live a favourite formative moment.  Sometimes spanking needs to be exactly just so in order to scratch a fetishistic itch.  I like to play with all these possibilities at different times.

If you would like to be part of Mr Possum’s, or my own, grand London spanking adventure, please do contact me to make arrangements.

May 272015
 

Mistress Artemisia de vine sassyYou should have seen my slave’s face as I dangled the keys to his chastity device over the edge of the escalator… I teased him till he became convinced I wouldn’t really do it and then with a giggle and a cock of the head, curious to see what he would do, I let them fall all the way to the shopping centre ground floor.

I was terribly amused as he scrambled to get them before anyone else picked them up… He lost all his dignity, head bobbing amongst the crowd, trying to get past the shoppers…

chastity 5Just the right amount of fear of being caught… such an aphrodisiac!

I placed my hand on his heart when he obediently brought them back to me and dropped them back down my cleavage for safe keeping. At that moment he was alive! Blood thumping through his veins and eyes bright… He was outside the social scripts now and able to see everything more clearly.

Apr 272015
 

 

Double femdom Sydney sessionsSubmit to the creatively wicked whims of two experienced Mistresses!

My dear friend Mistress Electra Amore is staying with me at The deVinery this month and we are whipping up a storm.  We play really well together, bouncing off each other’s elegantly twisted imaginations to create truly fabulous scenes.

If the idea of multiple golden showers makes you quiver, now is a great time to visit us. We are offering both short GS sessions and luxuriously long ones… Perhaps an extra Mistress to walk in at the opportune moment to add Her golden nectar?  

Or perhaps you enjoy four sets of hands going to work on your body… sensory deprivation and over stimulation… humiliation… impact play… spit roasting with two strap ons… medical examinations…  Can you handle the spotlight gaze of two dominants prodding, picking, pocking you into a submissive position?

We are particularly fond of:

  • Corporal punishment and discipline sessions

  • Cock & Ball Torture

  • Golden Showers

  • Humiliation, Objectification & Degradation

    mrs harpers dice smallerFor our spanking and caning enthusiasts, we may even switch!
    Three bottoms between us… We will challenge you to a game of Madam Harper’s traditional English Disciplinary Dice for wayward boys, errant slaves and willful husbands.  How ever the dice rolls decides who is punished, how many strokes and with what implements!


  • Alternatively stricter scenarios, roles plays and ecstatic trance spankings and canings available.  

    You are welcome to make a booking with either of us individually or both or us together for discounted rates because we enjoy playing together that much!  Contact myself on 0420 415 658 or Electra on 0412 569 969 to enquire.

    Artemisia de Vine www.consciouskink.com
    Electra Amore www.mistresselectraamore.com

     

 

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…

Website: www.consciouskink.com
Subscribe to mailing list
Follow her on Twitter

 

Dec 112014
 

Mistress Artemisia Sydney Pro Domme TealI forbade my slave from releasing the contents of a generous enema then insisted he perform a hundred vigorous star jumps.  I eyed him with amusement as he struggled to obey.  This was part of his obedience training and he needed to learn that his body no longer belonged to him.  Even the basic functions of eating and evacuating body waste were  no longer under his control.   I am Mistress.

He continued to jump up and down as commanded but the difficulty of holding the contents of the enema in became increasingly intense and nearly impossible to contain completely.  Of course he had to lick up any drops he spilt on my bathroom floor… and there was quite a bit of spillage despite how desperately he tried to hold on…  So down on his hands and knees he went to lap up every drop of water that leaked from his anus.

All his holes are mine to use.  If I want him to lick anal juice then he will lick anal juice.

Just when he thought this torment was finally over I announced there would be fifty cold strokes of the cane before he would be allowed to release the enema.  He was cramping, red faced and pleading…  I took my time slicing into his tender bottom flesh again and again.   Caning hurts more when one is tense… but he did not dare unclench.

When he was truly frantic with desperation I allowed him to sit on the toilet but I made him wait even longer while I counted down slowly… ever so slowly… from ten… really testing his obedience in the face of intense discomfort and bodily distress…

When finally I let him release I stood over him watching his humiliation with amusement.  Being witnessed noisily exploding leaves little room for dignity…   A reminder that even his right to privacy belongs to me…

After several minutes of bowel explosions, I had him  stand in the shower, bend over and spread his buttocks while I hosed him down thoroughly with cold water… This was just the preparation for the rest of our play session…  The real torture was about to begin…

Pain, then pleasure, then pain again… edging… riding the crest of the wave but forbidden to cum… used… degraded… begging… humiliated… When I finally decided to let him ejaculate of course he was forced to eat it all… I waited until it was cold and he was no longer aroused…  A reminder that his obedience is about what I want, not about making him horny…

I’ve been humming happily to myself all afternoon.

There is a level of intimacy and trust when playing with our shadow side that you just don’t get when we only see each other’s “nice” persona.

I did what it took to convince his mind he was no longer in control so he could let go and fly… he offered himself up to me in sacrifice for my entertainment… and believe me I was entertained…  A beautifully perverse arrangement between consenting adults.

Enema timeAbout 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.

Other Blogs about real play scenes you may enjoy:  De Vine Torment: Sydney Mistress tortures Her Slave

BDSM as Theatre of the Soul: A Tale of Sadistic Degradation

Website: www.consciouskink.com

Subscribe to mailing list
Follow her on Twitter

 

 

Nov 012014
 

 

Mistress Artemisia de vine sassyAs I shoved his face into my toilet and began to secure his head in place with plastic wrap he gagged a little and began to resist.   I grabbed a tuft of his sandy hair and pushed him back into position.  His naked knees scrambled on the shiny white tiles, hands struggling against leather restraints behind his back.  With no way to balance himself he was easy to push around.   He was forced to comply.

“I thought you said I could do whatever I liked to you slave? Are you taking back your promises so soon?”

“No Mistress,  I’ll try harder Mistress,”

“Yes you will… but soon you won’t exactly have much choice in the matter,”  I smiled to myself as a rush of sadistic pleasure coursed through my body.  I love this game.

I tugged on the collar around his neck,  slipping cold metal chains through the loops with an echoing clatter and then wrapping them around the toilet.  I soon had him chained to the cistern, padlocked in place, face squarely over the toilet bowl.  I slipped the key into my cleavage for safe keeping.

“Now you will really have to impress me to be let free slave, and I am going to test your resolve,”  I told him in a calm, slightly amused tone.

“Yes Mistress,”  he replied, his voice betraying his nervousness.

I shoved his face further into the toilet and resumed plastic-wrapping his head in place.   I could feel the power rush coming on, slowing everything down…  making me feel so alive… the throbbing in my veins became connected to the beat of all Life.  The sound of plastic being unrolled, became amplified, squeaking and straining as I stretched it up over the back of his head and down around the toilet bowl… passing it through underneath and back up around again…  round and round until he was unable to move his head at all.

I stood back, wiped the hint of moisture from my brow and admired my handy work, catching a glimpse of satisfaction on my face in the bathroom mirror.  I turned and stared at myself as I stood over my little silk worm snug in his perverted cocoon.

Mistress Artemisia de Vine crop logoMy womanly shape was highlighted by an elegant sheer slip while black fake fur draped my shoulders highlighting my excessive bosom.  The soft curves of my breasts swept down to a tightly corseted waist and widened again considerably to frame voluptuous hips and thighs.  I reached up and twisted the pearls around my neck fascinated by the way my wild blonde curls made me look so deceptively innocent.

I just adored the juxtaposition of such lady-like femininity against the flushed with raw power and cruelty on my face.   I was no mere girl, posing with a whip and looking pretty to tantalize men’s gaze.  My reflection showed a mature kind of attractiveness that can only come from those who have explored themselves… from those that carry an inner knowingness and calm confidence.   My beauty doesn’t come from picture-perfect features,  it comes from being a fully fledged woman in her power.

My attention returned to my slave.  A familiar visage.  Yet another powerful corporate man, naked and bent over in the perfect position to leave him feeling exposed and degraded.  His bottom poked out in easy swiping distance and his s0-called manhood, his cock and balls, dangled nice and vulnerable for me to reach should I so choose.  The way he was fastened there left no way for him to protect them from me…  and he was rock hard.  He was loving this even as he experience a myriad of challenging emotions.

This is what they don’t understand, I thought to myself.  Those sweet eyed, well-meaning, yoga folk and their conscious living.  They are all meditation and green juice but they do not understand that in order to really be whole, we have to own all of ourselves, dark twisted bits as well as the love and light.

Owning our shadow and creating a conscious relationship with it, is part of the spiritual path.   The dark side is in us… always there…  snarling in the depths… hidden in the corners of our hearts and minds…  We are All Things, us mad humans… We are consciousness in an animal body capable of every kind of horror and wonder under the sun…

The more we deny it by trying to control it or suppress it, the more is pops out in other areas of our lives…  and the more it controls us, taking the steering wheel from deep within our unconscious and creating havoc in unexpected areas of our lives. The dark-side butterfly effect.

Owning this aspect of me is what makes me whole.  BDSM is theatre of the soul where we live out all our archetypes… all of them get voice… With consent and awareness this kind of lust, cruelty and power play can lead us Home to ourselves.  Being filthy is the holiest thing I know how to do.

Without warning I stabbed air holes through the plastic with a skewer, sharp metal piercing jagged fissures right near his vulnerable face… him unable to move out of the way.  He could surrender and trust or remain in fear.

He jumped and strained but could not escape… he hadn’t let go yet… He was still holding onto control… to the illusion that he had an impact on the outcome of our play.  The blood pumping through his jugular veins pulsed at a rapid rate…  His breath was sharp and shallow in his chest fogging up the plastic-wrap… Adrenalin.

I let him brew for a while, anticipating what would happen next while I prepared the next part of our little game.  No doubt he could hear me opening draws, scraping metal implements against the bench top…

As I got out the ginger root I had been brewing in the fridge and began carving it into a suitable shape, I could feel the animal in my body mirroring my slave’s rush.   The smell of his fear mingled with the fiery pungency of ginger juice set off the cat-like sadist in me.  A primal urge within just wanted to toy with him… degrade and humiliate him… peeling away the masks of his ego and his resistance until the core of him was exposed…  This lawyer, used to being in control… stuck in his head justifying his existence through logic and rhetoric… denying and suppressing his emotions… his feelings… his instincts… yes, this lawyer was to be broken down.

My role was to bring him face to face with all of that, dragging him squirming and screaming to stare his vulnerability in the eye…  To shatter the illusion of order and control…   Initiate him into his very fear of helplessness, and ultimately, into facing his own inevitable Death… where he could finally surrender to the peace of the void beyond.  Freedom.  Home.

But he is not on this journey alone.  I may be acting as his guide but I am on a journey of my own.  There is pleasure seeing him stripped of his dignity.   There is pleasure in cruelty and in feeling powerful… In playing God.  When engaged with through conscious exchange of power like this, it can lead me Home too.

The game is this.  I strip his ego down until he submits and surrenders remembering who he really is under all the constructs while at the same time I build my own ego up until it is a fiery supernova, exploding and setting me free to be my core, authentic self.   We are both heading to the same destination… him through the front door and me through the back.

Mistress high heelsHe could no doubt hear my slow deliberate steps as my stiletto heels clicked ominously on the tiles, signalling my approach.  His body tensed, every sense alert.

I began speaking to him in a soothing, hypnotic, lullaby tone while I traced one finger down his spine… down the small of his back…  slipping between his buttocks… and circling the ring of his anus.  My voice and sensual touch a contradiction to my words…

“Now darling slave, I am going to make you suffer for my pleasure.  There is no escape from this so you may as well accept your fate.  I enjoy seeing you squirm, hearing you beg and knowing you are doing this in service to Me.  There is nowhere to go… no where to be… there is only Me.  I am your entire world… your entire Universe… until I choose to let you go.  Nothing else exists but your submission to Me and whatever I choose to inflict upon you.  Do you understand?”

He swallowed, sweat breaking out and glistening on the little blonde hairs on the back of his neck even as he leaned into the pleasure of my touch.

“Yes Mistress”

“Good boy”

I continued the hum of soothing sadistic lyrics, all the while massaging and opening his anal sphincters in preparation for my next little game.  I took my sweet time, allowing his hunger to be penetrated to grow.   I could feel myself entering ‘the zone’ in connection to him.  My words dripping like poisonous honey from my tongue, curling like incense smoke through the air… slipping into his ears and wrapping around his mind…  The wildness of the forest… both Mother and Destroyer entering his body…  The more he unfolded and floated, the more we became in synch…  My breath matching his…

The world disappeared and time became an irrelevant concept.  There was only us in this moment.

He began moaning in need, leaning into my finger in an attempt to get me to enter him.

“You like that don’t you little slave?  I think you want something from me don’t you?”

No words, just moaning…

“Oh you don’t want anything from me?  I guess this is all you will get then,”  I teased.

I pressed against his hole with pleasurable little pulses and waited while he worked through his confusion about how he was supposed to act.

“Yes Mistress, I do, but I am your slave to do with as You will.”

“I like it when you beg like the horny little slut you are, slave”.  I could feel his hope rising… his anticipation of being filled and fucked warring with his embarrassment at being made to speak his desires out loud.

“Is there something you would like from me slave?”  I asked again.

He leaned into me in an attempt to get out of saying the words, trying to show me what he wanted with his body rather than suffering the humiliation of begging.

I stopped all stimulation and stepped back, leaving him bereft of my touch.

“I will only ask you one more time, and if I do not hear what I want to hear then you will miss our entirely.  Now, is there something you want from me slave?”

“Yes Mistress, please fuck me Mistress”.

“Oh you want me to fuck you do you?,” I mocked, as I leaned back in and began to seduce his arse hole again.

“Yes Mistress”

“Well then you had better beg for it my pretty boy.  I do so enjoy seeing a powerful man on his hands and knees, face in the toilet, begging to be sodomised.  Please do entertain me before I get bored and wander off.”

“Please fuck me Mistress, please fuck me up the arse,”  he said, embarrassment and resistance making his voice faint.

“Louder please.  And tell me what a little whore you are.  How you will do anything to please me.”

“I am your little whore, Mistress! Please fuck me up the arse!  I will do anything you say Mistress, please just fuck me!”  he said with more conviction this time.

“Now we are getting somewhere, but I am not convinced yet.  I also want warn you that should I grant you this wish, there will be a price.  There is always a price.  Are you willing to pay it?”

“Yes Mistress!”  he was starting to sound more urgent, “Yes I will do anything you say, I am your little slut, your play thing.  Please degrade me, use me, do as you please to me!  I am yours Mistress.  Please fuck me!”

ginger butt plug, figgingWith a satisfied smirk I slipped the head of the newly carved ginger butt plug  into the opening of his hole and began easing it into him.  The effects of ginger take a while to kick in so at first he just writhed in pleasure, opening himself to me.

“Take a deep breath, then breathe all the way out and push down as though you are trying to push the toy out,” I instructed.  As he obeyed, I felt his sphincters relax and I slipped the rest of the ginger in.  The wide base held it firmly in place so it didn’t disappear altogether. I generously thrust it in and out stimulating his prostate and coating every sensitive area with fresh ginger juice.   He bucked with pleasure… to start with…

Then the burning began…

He became confused as his pleasure turned to intensity.

“Mistress!  It burns!  What is it Mistress?”

“What is it?  It is what I want it to be,”  I replied amused.

He began to writhe with a different kind of urgency now as he struggled to process this new experience.   I strapped the butt plug in place with rope and cleverly positioned knots, stood back, folded my arms and watched.  I was purring like the pussy who got the cream.  I do so love to watch a man struggle until he realises the full extent of his helplessness.

The burning built steadily in strength and with each passing minute his begging for me to remove the ginger increased.  He wriggled and strained against his restraints to no avail.

“Oh does that burn does it slave?”  I asked in mock innocence,  “I did tell you there would be a price didn’t I?  You thought it was all about your pleasure didn’t you slave.  Did you think because you paid a tribute for this session, I was here to get you off?  Actually, you are here to entertain Me.”

The more I mocked the harder his cock became, even as he suffered.  More importantly, his normal mind-state had shifted.  He was no longer dominated by the logical, ‘talking self’ part of his consciousness.  He was drifting into a different place within.

“Yes Mistress, I am Yours to do with as you please,”  he squeaked.

I reached down and pinched his nipple, hard, knowing that he would clench in sudden pain, squeezing more ginger juice out and setting off another level of burning.  I followed this sensation with a mixture of pleasurable cock sensations and volley of hard slaps against his buttocks.   Pleasure, pain, pause….

He grunted, his bottom blossomed with red hand prints and an endorphin rush kicked in moments later.   He was getting close now, I could feel it… close to the edge… he just needed a little shove and he would drop, deep, down into subspace and fly… and I would be right there with him, feeding off his reactions and riding high with my own twisted Top space.

“Oh poor slave, you are burning up.  Would you like me to cool you down?”

I didn’t wait for an answer.   I straddled his head, one leg over each side, my thighs pressing against his ears.

“Tell me again how you are just a thing to be used for my entertainment slave.  Tell me again how you are nothing but a fuck toy.  An object.  Owned body, mind and soul.

“Yes Mistress he cried out, inhibitions abandoned now, “I am everything you say.  I am Yours entirely!”

With that, I reached down, slipped my knickers to one side and spread my pussy lips wide open.  I felt the tingles of rushing energy through my body as the urge to urinate built until I could hold it not longer.  I began to relieve myself on his head…  As I let go of my very full bladder, another, more difficult to define, dam broke within me and I snarled with the pleasure of it. I was all powerful Goddess, marking My territory.  Piss splattered on the plastic wrap, forming yellow pools of urine…  and then showered steadily down through the carefully positioned air holes… pungent streams of piss trickling down his face, drenching him thoroughly…  Wayward rivulets entering the corners of his mouth which he licked at greedily, fully in his animal self now…

That was the trigger we both needed.  I felt his whole energy shift.  He just dropped in utter surrender with me riding his back all the way Home.  A moment of living awareness… of being all that is left when the social scripts and ego illusions are torn away…   Just being pure consciousness flying together in ecstasy.

This was not where we engaged in sexual climax to end the scene… This was just the launching pad…  Just the beginning of our play…

Mistress Artemisia de Vine Sydney Pro Domme AzureAbout 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. 

Website: www.consciouskink.com
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Sep 272014
 

Professional Disciplinarian SydneyPart Two of a spanking story based on a real domestic discipline and corporal punishment role plays I do with some of my clients.  The basic premise of the script is their idea.  They choose to play the errant husband who wants to be punished by their sister-in-law for taking their wife for granted…. Or very similar variations on the same theme…  Contains adult themes, over-the-knee (OTK) bare bottom hand spanking, caning, corner time, behavior correction, humiliation, coercion, sexism and forced cross-dressing.  


Start with PART ONE here: bare bottomed, OTK, hand spanking…

‘Bend over and place your palms flat in front of you Paul,‘  I said pointing to the solidly constructed wooden table.

He appeared to steal himself for what he knew was coming next but to his credit his did not protest.  Perhaps he thought it best to get it over with.  He laid himself over the table, red spanked bottom poking out from under his business shirt and splayed his fingers out in front of him.

I rummaged around in the draw for a moment watching with amusement as Paul’s head cocked to the side trying to work out what I was doing.  He didn’t dare turn around to look.

Eventually I found what I was looking for and hummed to myself as I walked slowly up behind him, black heels clicking ominously on the tiles.  I bent down close so he could feel the warmth of my breath against his ear as I quietly but firmly explained what was going to happen next.

‘See these marbles?’ I asked holding two large, multi-coloured class orbs in front of his face.

‘Yes.’

‘Yes who?‘

‘Yes Ma’am,‘  He quickly corrected himself.

‘That’s better.  I am going to place these on the backs of your fingers,’ I said following through as I spoke, ‘They need to stay there without rolling off while you receive your discipline.  Each time they roll off we will add another cane stroke to your set.  You currently have two sets of 6 to get through.  Do you understand?’

‘Yes Ma’am‘  he said dismayed.

‘Good boy’.

I stood back up and slowly walked around the table and picked up the junior cane.  “We will start with the lighter of the two since this is your first time”, I said bending the flexible rattan for dramatic effect.

I walked back out of his line of sight, each step deliberate and pronounced in the kitchen acoustics.

‘This is going to hurt.  A lot.  You are going to take it like a man because you know you deserve it and you want your wife back.  This is your penance,’ I stated with no room for argument.  ‘How well you do will have a direct effect on what I choose to tell Clara and you know my influence with her is strong’.

I paused to let that sink in.

‘Between each stroke you will breath all the way out and then when you have gained your composure, you will count the stroke and thank me for taking the time to correct your behavior.  You will say, “One thank you Ma’am, Two thank you Ma’am” and so forth.   Is that clear?

‘Yes Ma’am’, replied Paul with no hesitation this time.

‘Good because if you lose count or forget to thank me, we will begin that set again’.

Paul shifted his weight slightly but did not comment.

I lifted Paul’s shirt out of the way and folded it neatly back exposing him fully.  His bare bottom was swollen and red but as yet unmarked in any way that would last more than a few hours.  It was time to correct this.

‘We tend to remember the lessons that are seared into our flesh Paul”, I said  finding my stance and getting the measure of my swing.  I tapped the cane lightly across both cheeks.
Then taking my time, I drew back and sliced through the air with a perfectly placed stroke.   vivid red welt blossoming across his bottom.

Paul’s sharp intake of breath made it clear he felt it.  Every inch of it.  He let his breath out hard and adjusted himself slightly but the marbles stayed balanced on the back of his hands.

“One thank you Ma’am,”  he said with stiff control that clearly took an effort.

I tapped to take aim again and then whoosh, the cane whipped through the air and landed half an inch below the first welt.

“Phewwww,”  he breathed but did not falter.  “Two thank you Ma’am”.
A third, then a fourth stroke biting into his skin and the already tender flesh beneath.  I could see him wincing and clenching his jaw but his hands remained perfectly still.

I laid out two more strokes with artistic precision.  ‘Five thank you Ma’am’  then ‘Six thank you Ma’am’, he managed to make it through the first round.

‘Good boy Paul.  I can see I am starting to get through to you.  Now tell me about what you have thought about.  How are you going to be proactive in making changes dramatic enough to make you worthy of my sister?’

He cleared his throat and offered, ‘I will definitely help more around the house’.

‘Help you say? To say you are helping implies that housework is your wife’s responsibility and you are assisting her in her duties.  That isn’t good enough.  I need you to understand that housework is as much your responsibility as it is hers.  Do you understand?’

‘Right yes, of course, you are right,’ he said hurriedly, realising his mistake too late.

I walked around the table and placed the junior cane down only to replace it with the senior cane.  Let’s mark this new resolution into your flesh with this, the most painful punishment you have received yet,’  I said, completely devoid of emotion. ‘Time you will thank me exactly as before after each stroke but you will also ask for another stroke to show me you are serious about mending your ways.

I found my stance and practiced my aim again while reminding Paul, ‘This stroke is to remind you that until I say otherwise, it is in fact now your duty to ensure the housework is done.  This is to make up for all the years you have taken Clara for granted, you will now take the role she used to take and if you are lucky she may “help” you every now and then.  Just like you used to “help” her.’

Without waiting for him to agree I pulled back my arm and laid a hard fast stroke right across his bottom.  This time, he couldn’t keep silent.  A jagged moan involuntarily escaped his lips and the marbles wobbled dangerously on the backs of his fingers.

It took him several moments before he gathered himself enough to say, ‘One thank you Ma’am, may I please have another?’

I smiled to myself.  Now my methods were really starting to take effect.  ‘Good.  Let’s see what else you have learned.  What else are you going to do to change your behavior?  Make it good.‘

‘Er… I will be more grateful, especially for Clara’s cooking’.

‘Yes you will, and in order to really value the effort put into cooking, you will now cook as often as you expected Clara to for the foreseeable future.  You will even make a special effort to learn great recipes for her favorite dishes and slave away for hours to lay on three course meals for her and her friends to help her socially network.  You can do this on top of your full time job just like Clara used to do for you.  Do you understand?’.

‘Yes Ma’am!‘ he replied unwilling to argue.

‘I will visit unannounced to spot check you cooking is up to scratch’.

The cane whistled through the air and sliced into his bottom with vicious precision.  His body shuddered  under the impact and he eventually whimpered, ‘Two thank you Ma’am! may I please have another?’

‘Good.  Now what else have you learned?’

‘That I mustn’t demand intimate relations‘ he replied.

‘Correct.  After working all day in an office, coming home and doing the cooking and the housework while you rested with your feet up, the last thing a wife wants is intimate relations.  As part of making yourself worthy of Clara you will be signing up to learn the art of female arousal from a practitioner of the erotic arts and you will attend tantra classes together so you can learn how to truly pleasure a woman.  Not just pleasure, but connect to her, because funnily enough, it is not just about you.  May this cane stroke imprint that deeply on your flesh, ‘ I said as I took aim and delivered my hardest stroke yet.

Paul squirmed and let out a cry.  There was a rolling sound and a loud clunk as both marbles fell off his fingers, rolled across the table and skitted onto the tiles with an echoing clatter.  Instead of staying firmly on the table as requested, both his hands were now rubbing his bottom furiously.
‘Forgotten your instructions already I see,‘ I said calmly, hiding my amusement, ‘Both marbles on the floor! Looks like we will have to add two cane strokes to your total for this set, bringing it up to 8.  Six is the traditional number of course.  Just be grateful I am only adding two strokes and not adding two extra sets of six to keep things neat and tidy’.

Paul groaned.  ‘I can’t!’ he said.

‘Well you can stop at any point of course I reminded him, ‘but it would be a shame since you have come so far.  Five more strokes and you will be finished and my sister will consider taking you back.‘

There was silence as he considered this.

‘‘Pick up the marbles Paul,‘ I said with deathly calm.

He looked at me with concern in his eyes but immediately dropped to his knees to search for the glass spheres.  I just watched and waited, arms folded.

Eventually he found them and presented them to me.

This time he bent over the table without being asked.  I replaced the marbles on the backs of his fingers, leaning in close, brushing against him.
‘What else have you learned Paul?’

He was straining to come up with anything now.  His distress was a playing across the theatre of his face.

‘May I suggest that perhaps this cane stroke could remind you not be so consumed with yourself and your work but also make Clara a priority in your life?’

‘Yes, yes of course!‘  he agreed, relieved to be given a clue. ‘I will pay her much more attention and listen to her feelings and all that,‘  he said guessing at what was required of him.

‘Something like that,‘ I replied amused.  ‘You will no longer only think about how Clara plays the support role to your dreams and passions but will actively play the support role to hers.  That means attending her work functions and listening to the things that are important to her.  It also means arranging to take Clara out to the kinds of entertainment she enjoys.  You will be the perfect opera date for her without a hint that you are bored or disinterested.  Is that clear?’

‘Yes Ma’am,‘ he gulped.

I took aim and delivered the next two strokes in quick succession, cruelly on the same spot.  This was a new level of pain for Paul and he reeled but did not slump for shear terror at the prospect of losing the marbles and having more strokes added to his sentence.

“Four and five thank you Ma’am! May I please have another?’

‘Good I thought to myself.  He really must care for my sister after all to endure this to be given a chance to get back together with her.  At his core he wasn’t a bad man.  He was just spoilt.  Luckily for him there is a cure for spoilt.

‘Repeat after me Paul, “Clara deserves to be treated like the Goddess she is!”

Without hesitation he repeated my words back to me and judging by the tremble in his voice, he actually meant it.

‘Good man,’ I said rewarding him by no longer calling him a ‘boy’ in acknowledgement he was now beginning to behave like an adult.

The last three strokes were no less severe but I no longer tormented him with penance.  I delivered smarting blow one after the other giving him just enough time to gasp and thank me.  Six, seven and finally with a solid crack eight.

He let out sob before he could gather himself.  I nodded to myself in satisfaction.  I had made an impression.  Paul’s re-wiring was under way.

I removed marbles from hands and he sat down with a thump only to spring straight back up again when he realised how sore his bottom was.   He attempted to hide the fact that there were tears in his eyes, and discretely blew his nose into a tissue.  I didn’t say a word until he finished and stood uncertainly waiting to be instructed.

‘Paul, I am going to call Clara and have her pick you up.  In the meantime I want to you to put your trousers back on and stand in corner and wait for her to arrive.  I suggest you use that time to think up the very best apology you can muster’.

He looked miserable but bent down to retrieve his underwear obediently.

‘No not those underwear Paul,‘ I said confiscating his cotton briefs, ‘These ones’.  I held up a pair of pink lacy panties.  You will wear nothing but lady’s knickers until you learn to respect femininity.  You will wear them to work under your expensive suits and you will wear them at home as you do the housework.  They will serve as a reminder to self-correct your behavior as out go about your business.’

Paul’s eyes widened in disbelief at this indignity.  He stood there for a moment then reached over and picked up the lingerie I offered him fir thumb and forefinger as though they would burn him.  His face burned with embarrassment and his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth but he dared not utter a protest.  He slowly bent down and slipped the offending hot pink panties on, pulling them up over his smarting bottom, dressed himself agin in his neat pinstripe trousers and belt and placed himself in the corner.

The image of him standing there, nose to the wall, waiting patiently was the image of an entirely new Paul.  His re-programming was well under way.
***
A week later I spoke to Clara on the phone.  ‘How are things going with Paul?‘ I asked.

‘Amazing! gushed Clara.  ‘I don’t know what you did to him but it has been all flowers, attentiveness ever since he came back from your place.  He cooks *and* does the dishes!  There have been a few small slip ups where he drifted back into his habitual ways but all I had to do was mention that perhaps he needed some more sister-in-law therapy and he pulled himself into line quick smart!  Just goes to show that your unconventional methods really work.’

Professional Disciplinarian SydneyAbout the Author:  Artemisia de Vine is a Sydney-based professional disciplinarian pasionate about all things spanking, domestic discipline and corporal punishment.  She is a true switch and plays the role of both Spanker and Spankee.  She specialises in traditional domestic scenes, from the playful to the intense including behavior correction, role play and ecstatic spanking sessions.  See more here…

Sep 272014
 

Professional Disciplinarian SydneyPart One of a spanking story based on a real domestic discipline and corporal punishment role plays I do with some of my clients.  The basic premise of the script is their idea.   They choose to play the errant husband who wants to be punished by their sister-in-law for taking their wife for granted…  or very similar variations on that theme…  Contains adult themes, over-the-knee (OTK) bare bottom hand spanking, caning, corner time, behavior correction, humiliation, coercion, sexism and forced cross-dressing.

‘All of it!’ I said sternly, as he struggled to swallow another large mouthful of gloopy, cold porridge.   Paul, a lean but muscular man in his 40’s, loosened his imported grey & cream silk tie and looked up at me sullenly from his seat at the kitchen table.  He ran a hand through his cropped walnut hair with perfectly manicured fingers and wrinkled his nose in distaste.  He stared up at me, an unspoken protest in his hazel eyes and a crimson frustration on his pale white cheeks but chewed on with silent determination.

Out there, in the corporate world, he was a manager.  He was the type who was so self assured he never questioned his entitlement to bark orders, have others run his errands and to plonk himself down in the most comfortable seat without a thought for anyone else. He was used to having others do as he told them.

Here he obeyed me.  He didn’t dare not to.

‘Fifty chews before each swallow,‘ I ordered him,  ‘I want you to meditate on each mouthful and remember how you got yourself into this situation.’

He sighed heavily but obediently spooned another mouthful of claggy oats into his mouth and began chewing resentfully.   The sound of his rhythmic munching matched the ticking of the gilded clock on the wall above his head.  I counted in a clipped tone to ensure he knew I meant exactly what I had said.  50 chews.  No more, no less.

Two springy rattan canes rested on the bench in front of him reminding him of what was to come.  One junior cane, 8mm in diameter and 60cm long for so-called lighter strokes and one senior cane at 10 mm thick, 80cm long, heavy enough to make a decent impact on the flesh that one would not forget in a hurry.

Paul couldn’t get out of the punishment but how many cuts he received, depended on how well he took the rest of his discipline and how satisfied I was that he had learned his lesson.

I ran my palms down the thighs of my fitted skirt to straighten out imaginary wrinkles, cleared my throat in a prim, lady-like manner and leaned down towards him.  My cream shirt, though buttoned sensibly did little to hide my large round breasts.  Nothing I wore ever managed to hide them.  They just rebelliously protruded with alarming regularity.

‘After each mouthful is swallowed I want you to say, “I will never be ungrateful for my wife’s cooking again”, do you understand me?‘  I ordered in a calm, no nonsense tone.  ‘Your wife has sent you to me to correct the behavior that is destroying your relationship and you will not leave here until I am convinced your behavior is permanently corrected’.

He nodded, chewed for a little longer, swallowed and repeated quietly, ‘I will never be ungrateful for my wife’s cooking again’.

‘Loud and clear please, say it again so I can hear you properly’.

He blushed, an internal struggle on his face as he felt the injustice of his position.

I bent down to pick up the junior cane and flex it provocatively.  ‘It seems you are not taking this seriously Paul.  Perhaps you need six of the best to motivate you?  Stand up, drop your trousers’.

His eyes widened in protest, ‘But I did what you said!’ he complained.

‘Why are you arguing with me?  Is that doing as I say?’ I said with one raised eyebrow.  ‘Need I remind you that you agreed to this Paul?  It is unconventional marriage therapy but extremely effective.  You need to convince me you are thoroughly reformed before your wife, my sister, will take you back.  The more you resist, the longer this will take… and the redder your bottom will be.  I suggest you do not keep me waiting’.

He visibly swallowed the words he longed to say, this educated man used to having his own way…  Used to having female personal assistants do his bidding… Used to taking his wife for granted in a million little ways…

I calmly stared him down until he complied.  He stood up, pushed the wooden chair back making a dramatic scraping sound against the pristine white tiles and began fumbling with the clasp on his back leather belt.

‘Look is this really necessary?  Can’t you just cane me over my pants?‘  his embarrassment at being treated like a naughty little boy causing his voice to crack a little.

‘You do realise that delaying will do nothing to get you out of this Paul?‘ I replied ignoring his discomfort.

He sighed heavily again and removed the belt entirely, folding it neatly on the table  beside him and then when he could find nothing else left to delay the matter, he reluctantly dropped his perfectly creased, pinstriped pants. He stood there looking at me, waiting for his next instruction.

I let the corner of my mouth curl in the hint of a satisfied smile.  I leaned back, arms folded across my breasts and looked at the image before me.  Paul still had his crisp white office shirt and pinstriped vest on, his tie loosened around his neck but his pants made an appealing pool around his ankles and shiny, black polished shoes.  He looked distractingly appealing in those gray cotton briefs.  He was an attractive man.

He would make a beautiful husband for my sister Clara if he could only be taught to respect women.  He was single child whose mother had doted on him and he took his wife’s efforts in their relationship for granted as a result.  His attitude was also causing problems amongst the female staff at work.

What it came down to is that he was spoilt.  I am a firm believer that it is never too late to take a man over my knee and give him a sound spanking.  Strict discipline is thoroughly under-rated in today’s politically correct world.  I had seen my sister suffering in her relationship with Paul and eventually she became so exasperated that she came around to my way of thinking.  We had put our heads together to plot a way to get Paul the behavior correction he so clearly needed.

‘Since this is your first ever corporal punishment experience Paul, we will begin with a thorough hand spanking to warm up your flesh.  This is a kindness on my part for which you should be grateful.

He just stood there silently.

‘When someone is kind to you Paul, it is polite to say thank you’.
He hesitated.

‘Thank you,‘  he mumbled.

‘Thank you who?‘ I asked?

He just looked confused.

‘Thank you Ma’am,‘  I instructed. ‘For the remainder of our time together you will always refer to me as ma’am to remind you of your place’.

‘Yes… Yes, ma’am,‘ he said not sure if I was joking of not.  He would soon discover I was deadly serious.

Fetch me that chair,‘ I said pointing to the one he had previously occupied.

He complied, turning to give me a lovely view of his perfectly formed buttocks as he shuffled across the floor compensating for the fact that his pants were playing the part of shackles around his ankles.

He placed the chair in the centre of the room and stood back to give me access.  His full attention was on me.  This was an improvement from his usual oblivious selfishness.

I, took my suit jacket off and hung it neatly over the back of the chair and sat down, straight backed and proper.  I rolled up my shirt sleeves, adjusted my pearl necklace and slid my skirt up a little to make myself more comfortable.  As I did so, a little more of my nylon clad thighs became visible.  I pretended not to notice and patted my leg.

“Lean over my lap Paul.  Place yourself so your bottom is in easy reach of my right hand’.

‘Yes.’

‘Yes who?‘  I purred dangerously.

‘Yes Ma’am,‘  He quickly corrected himself and awkwardly tried to lay himself over my lap.   I had to grasp his waist firmly and pull him closer to me to ensure he did not fall off.

This is for your own good you know Paul,‘ I said leaning forward and neatly pulling down his underwear to expose his pale round bottom.

‘Now look here,‘ said Paul wriggling himself free and standing up indignantly, ‘ I have agreed to submit to your unusual methods because it is the only way that I can get my wife back, but you are her sister!  My sister in law!  I have to see you at Christmas dinners and social events!  I did not not agree to be humiliated like this!  It is just not right that you pull down my underwear!’

‘You did agree to do whatever it takes to convince me you are worthy of Clara, Paul.  She is my little sister and looks up to my opinion in these matters.  If I tell her you are contrite and truly sorry then she will give you another chance.

However, you are right, you do not have to go ahead.  You can leave at any time.‘  I said picking up my mobile phone and searching for Clara’s number.   I soon found her plump smiling face in amongst my contacts.  Her deceptively cherubic face framed by neat blonde hair tied back in a sensible ponytail.

‘Look!’  I said holding up the phone so he could have a good look at her image.  Her large soft eyes, porcelain skin and impressive cleavage reminding him how much she meant to him.

She was definitely my sister!  We looked very much alike.  We both sported womanly curves, and a mature sort of attractiveness, though I was a little taller and 3 years older.  She was 35 now and running out of time to have children.  She needed  her husband to grow up so he could become good father material.  Something he clearly wasn’t going to be capable of if he was still acting like a child himself.

‘We can video call her right now and tell her you’ve called the whole thing off if you would prefer,’ I said matter-of-fact.

I pressed dial before he could answer and his eyes widened.  The phone took a moment to register and then began to ring.

One… then two rings…

‘No dont call her!  Just give me a minute!  Can’t we be reasonable about this?‘  He pleaded, trousers still around his ankles.

I just continued to hold the phone so he could clearly see it was still ringing while I calmly stared him down.  We both knew she could answer at any second.

‘Ok!  I’ll do it!  Just hang up.  I’ll do as you say.‘  he conceded desperately.

‘Yes you will,’ I smiled smugly, enjoying his consternation, and clicked the red disconnect button with my thumb.  ‘And for making such a fuss I have decided it will be two sets of six cane strokes.  Now quickly, stop wasting my time, bend over my lap’.

‘Yes… Ma’am’, he said remembering the Ma’am part just in time.

I tapped my foot impatiently on the tiles and nodded towards my thighs.  “Assume the position then.  Quick smart.”

He reluctantly complied, a look of disbelief that this was actually happening on his face.

Once he was firmly back in place, I sat there silent for just a moment, letting the anticipation build.  Paul had never been spanked in his life, let alone caned.  I was going to thoroughly enjoy breaking in his virgin bottom.

The stinging slap echoed through the kitchen, bouncing off the neat rows of china dishes and spice jars.   Paul jolted.

I remained silent and waited, letting the sensation sink in…  Letting the uncertainty of my next move build in his mind…

‘How many spanks will there be Ma’am?‘  he asked.

‘I think three rounds of three minutes each.  Each round will get a little firmer than the last until you are well and truly red and sore.  I will see if I think you need more at the end of that’.

‘Is that a lot Ma’am?‘  he asked, trying not to word his question in a way that would not provoke me further.

‘It is a light-average warm up.  Since this is your first time receiving this sort of discipline we will need to see how you bottom responds and proceed accordingly’.

I reached my hand into my jacket pocket, and retrieved an egg timer.  I then leaned down  and placed it in front of Paul on the floor.  ‘When the sand runs out we will stop for a break’.

Slap!  My cupped hand delivered another stinging blow, this time to his right buttock.  My hand print showed red against his snowy cheek.

Slowly at first I delivered a rhythmic succession of firm but not extraordinarily hard thwacks.  First one buttock and then the other… Paul was doing his best to take this alien experience with a manly stoicism.

Smack! Smack! Smack!  I leisurely treated each cheek to equal treatment, pausing between each sharp slap to let Paul fully absorb the sensation.  He took his first ever hand spanking in stiff silence with his eyes fixed on the grains tumbling through the narrow necked egg timer.  Eventually the last granule slipped through and I ceased my first round.

Paul’s muscles relaxed and slumped forward.  I made a mental note.  We would need to work on his posture too but for now he had taken his punishment well.

‘Very good Paul.  We are beginning to get somewhere.  Two more rounds of that and then we will begin in earnest’.

He grunted but did not reply.  I gave his bottom a good rub since his hands were occupied holding himself up.  I generously kneaded for a good minute and then remembering how he had showed so little consideration for Clara, abruptly decided that was enough molly coddling.

‘Ok, now for round two’.

This time I did not wait for him to brace himself.  I just began a steady drumming against his flesh.  Faster this time and quite a lot harder.  He began to curl up on his toes, clench his buttocks and holding his breath but not making a sound.

Amused at his inexperience, I noticed how he was making things more difficult for himself. ‘It will hurt less if you remember to breath and relax your muscles Paul,’ I said over the top of stinging spanks. He didn’t pay any attention, too overwhelmed by the painful indignity he was being subjected to to comprehend what I was saying.  I just shrugged and continued to lay into his pretty flesh.

I steadily built the intensity as the punishment wore on.  By the end of two minutes he was twisting his hips slightly to get away from each blow.  As we got closer to three he began letting out involuntary grunts with each blow.

‘Ten seconds to go I said turning the heat up even further with a volley of smarting spanks.  I heard his gasp and he begin to wiggle as his composure started to slip.

Five more seconds… 4… 3… 2… 1…

His breath was a valve letting out bottled up steam as I stopped hitting him and gave his bottom another rub.  He slumped in momentary relief.

‘Do you remember why you are receiving this discipline Paul?‘
‘Yes Ma’am, for disrespecting my wife Ma’am’.  He said breathing faster than usual.

‘Yes that is correct, what was it you said about her cooking again?‘  I said reaching down into my briefcase and removing a printed out email.

‘I… I can’t remember exactly,’  more than a hint of nervousness in his voice.

‘Let me remind you then shall I?,”  I said using his back like it was my desk.  ‘You said, her champignon chowder was as flavorless as porridge.  Apparently your work colleagues found this rather amusing.  You all got a jolly laugh at her expense after she slaved away over a hot stove all afternoon for you.  Isn’t that right?’

‘Well yes when you put it that way it does sound rather bad.  I was just trying to get a laugh.  Lighten the tension you know.  It was important for the business deal’.

‘Is the business deal so important that you would sacrifice your Clara’s dignity to seal it?‘ I asked deceptively mildly.

‘Ah no, I guess not’.

‘She also has a full time job you know and yet every evening she comes home and cooks dinner for you both while you loosen your belt in front of the TV with your feet on the coffee table.  She goes to all the trouble of cooking a lovely meal for your work colleagues to help you seal the deal you so desperately want and all you can do is humiliate her by publicly making her the butt of a joke.  A joke in poor taste at that.  What do you have to say for yourself?’

‘Well, in my defense it really was a bland chowder,‘  he argued missing the point entirely.

I sighed, ‘ It looks as though I will need to clear my calendar for the rest of the week.  You are such a slow learner that we may need to repeat this process every evening until you finally understand the gravity of your behavior and how it is destroying your marriage’.

‘Look I am sorry.  I do get it.  It wasn’t a nice thing to say.  I will take care not to be so flippant in future,‘  Paul quickly corrected himself.

‘Hmmm… we’ll see,‘ I responded in a voice clearly unconvinced, running my fingers along the fold creases of the email.

It seems this problem is a lot deeper than just one incident though isn’t it.  There is a real pattern of behavior that needs correcting from the foundation up.  Clara has some other complaints.  Let’s see what they are shall we?’

Paul shifted nervously, still awkwardly draped across my lap.

‘1. Laziness at home.

  1. Not following instructions when asked to help
  2. Being ungrateful, especially about cooking
  3. Being too consumed by your work and yourself
  4. Demanding intimate relations

‘My, my Paul, this does seem to be a deep seated problem doesn’t it.  I want to you think about these complaints and how you can improve yourself if you want to ever feel the sweet arms of my sister around you again.  I want to you to think long and hard while you receive your next round of spanking.

Without warning I began to spank him as hard and fast as I could without pause for the next three minutes.  I have a lot of practice correcting the behavior of errant husbands so my arm is quite strong.  This time he soon forgot his dignity and squirmed trying to get away from my hand.  With one smooth movement I adjusted Paul so he was only draped over one thigh while the other stocking-clad leg wrapped over the top of his to hold him solidly in place.  Then I just continued dispassionately, determined to teach him a lesson.

He was really feeling the effects of being reduced to a naughty boy now!  Unable to squirm away and unable to stop moans of pain escaping his lips, he no longer resembled the arrogant man who had earlier entered my kitchen.  He looked like the naughty little boy he was.
Last ten seconds, I said and really drew on my reserves to lay into him.

9…. 8… 7…

Paul grunted with each solid thwack.

6… 5… 4…

I had to really hold him still now…

3… 2… 1…

I stopped as suddenly as I had begun and gave myself a moment to catch my breath.  Paul just lay there panting and limp.  He would have to learn to take his punishment with more dignity in future.

After a moments pause, I untwined my leg from his and helped him up and gave him a chance to rub his own swollen, red bottom this time.  It really was blushing furiously now.  By the look on his face it was really smarting.

I stood up, straightened my skirt and brushed back a blonde curl that had managed to escape my tidy bun.  I stood unimpressed with my hands on my hips waiting for Paul to stop massaging his buttocks and give his attention back to me.

After giving him a moment to orient himself I reminded him, ‘This isn’t over yet Paul.  I want you to sit down and continue eating that whole bowl of cold porridge, meditate on why you are here for 50 whole chews per mouthful and thank me gratefully for feeding you between each bite.  Do you understand?‘

He nodded.  It did seem to be finally dawning on him how serious I was about this.  He went to pull up his pants.

‘uh-uh,‘ I shook my head.  You will remain trouser-less until this ordeal is over.  You may remove your shoes and pants entirely and fold them neatly.

He nodded, defeated and bent down to do as I said.

‘You may put them neatly in the laundry basket for now,‘ I instructed.

He did as he was told.  After placing his belonging neatly in the basket he came back and stood in front of me waiting to be told what to do.  His eyes were fixed on his toes.

‘Good’, I observed to myself,  ‘He is learning to follow instructions’.

‘Sit down Paul, there is still the matter of the porridge’.

He  sat down much more contritely this time, gingerly adjusting his sore bottom on the hard wooden chair and he began to eat.

I stood over him the whole time, watching like a hawk and counting his chews.  ‘You had better make sure you chew exactly 50 times or else I will add extra cane strokes for each chew you miss,‘  I threatened.

Glumly he continued, completely focused on getting it right.  “Thank you for the porridge Ma’am.  I will never be ungrateful for my wife’s cooking again,’ he parroted at the end of each swallow.  I was starting to believe it was sinking in.  However there were other items on that list of complaints from Clara so this was far from over yet.

Eventually he gulped down the last bit of porridge and I allowed him a glass of water.  He even thanked me without being asked to.  A definite improvement.

‘Now we are going to move onto the actual punishment Paul, I said eyeing the canes.

SEE PART TWO HERE…

Read other spanking and discipline stories here including: Ella is Taught a Lesson in Lady-like Behaviour: Punished by her half sister.

Professional Disciplinarian SydneyAbout the Author:  Artemisia de Vine is a Sydney-based professional disciplinarian & switch passionate about all things spanking, domestic discipline and corporal punishment.  She is a true switch and plays the role of both Spanker and Spankee.  She specialises in traditional scenes, from the playful to the intense including behavior correction, role play and ecstatic spanking sessions.  See more here…

Jul 052014
 

Mistress corporate logoHello Ms de Vine,

I just wanted to reiterate how amazing it was and how much I got out of it. The fact that you listened to what I was after and then incorporated it seamlessly into an incredible session, where all the way through the session it really felt like we were in the role play scenario that had been created. I said that the what I was really into was the overlap between submission, pain and sexuality and the session certainly hit that sweet spot (as I suspect you could tell from the mind-blowing orgasm I had at the end!) while also really pushing my boundaries. I’m already thinking about our next session and where I might ask you to push my boundaries a bit further!

Below I’ve put down some more of my thoughts regarding the session. Feel free to use any or all of it (and any of this email) on your blog/website as long as you keep me totally anonymous.

Here is how Anonymous described what actually happened in session

“I made sure I turned up right on time (not early or late) for my 2 hour session with Ms De Vine. Although I was a little nervous she immediately put me at ease with her welcome and a soothing cup of tea with our pre-session chat. I had already talked to Ms De Vine regarding what I was after but the pre-chat went into much further detail and Ms De Vine really digged down into what I was after to ensure that the session was as amazing as possible. I had indicated my likes and dislikes and said to Ms De Vine that my overarching interest was a role play session where we explored the overlap between submission, pain and sexuality.

knickersAfter a quick shower I re-entered the play space (naked naturally) and, as a naughty nephew, started to examine some lingerie that my Auntie has left out. After a couple of minutes she came in and asked what the hell I was doing. Her eyes were immediately drawn to my small cock, which she left me in no doubt was inadequate. I was given two choices, be exposed as a pervert with a tiny dick or take the punishment that my auntie had devised. Naturally I chose to be punished.

Auntie immediately informed my that as I had a small clitty rather than a penis I should be dressed not as a boy but as the girl I was such and was made to put on a pair of Aunties girly panties. They didn’t stay up for very long though as Auntie put me across her knee and gave me a hard spanking. Once my bum was nice and red she led me over to the bench where I was given a further hard spanking with the paddle and strap.

Auntie then led me back to her couch and told me to stand in front of her with my hand on my heads while she tied up my cock and balls. This took some time as Auntie had some trouble due to the smallness of my penis. Auntie of course managed to succeed and then gave my clit and balls the whipping that they deserved. It stung let me tell you leading me to drop my hands a couple of times and incur a further punishment later on. As Auntie had identified my clitty was never going to satisfy a women she generously offered to instruct me in the worship and pleasure of a women using my tongue. I tried my best, but naturally I was not up to the task and so Auntie punished my balls (hard)  further on several occasions with her foot (ball busting). Eventually she told me to stop my inadequate efforts and told me it was time for further punishment.

Mistress high heelsAfter some further cock and ball torture, Auntie told me to lie down on the bench and start playing with my clitty. The fact I only needed to use two fingers to pleasure myself caused Auntie a lot of amusement. Just as I was starting to feel good Auntie started to cane my penis, drawing me close to orgasm several times before bringing the cane down on my cock.

Eventually she took mercy on me and said I could orgasm as long as I begged enough for it. I begged hard let me tell you! Begging Auntie to keep rubbing my little clitty until I could cum. At one point she stopped right on the edge and I thought she was going to stop but after some further begging she kindly allowed me to cum (and have a mind-blowing orgasm). After disgustingly wiping away the cum she told me if she caught me playing with her underwear again the punishment would be twice as bad.

Overall this was a mind-blowing session. Ms De Vine really created a role play environment that I believed I was in all the way throughout. She listened to what I was after and incorporated it into the session (especially the overlap between submission, pain and sexuality) while pushing my boundaries in several areas (beyond even what I had thought possible) and because we had a good understanding of where our interests overlapped I really felt that Ms De Vine was as into the session as I was. In addition she took the time after the session was over to ensure I was ready to re-nter the real world! I will be booking another session soon!”

Jun 052014
 

dominatrix strap on 1Anal play and, in particular, pegging, is such a popular session!  After all it is one of the best ways to access the male G spot.  Who would want to miss out on that?

Over the years working as a professional dominatrix I’ve become experienced in anal play on men from finger to fist and everything in between.  There are many ways in which to approach anal play.  However, it is not just the toys we use or which anal techniques we’ve learnt but also the attitude with which we approach a play scene that makes the experience full of fireworks.

CDR457840 digital rectal examEach of us has unique erotic wiring, so it is important to go about pegging in a way that taps into your core erotic themes.  It’s no good being all sensual if you are turned on by the idea of being ravished and taken by a dominant woman… Likewise, it is no good being ordered into a degrading position if you are the type who needs seductive coaxing…  Is being pegged a reward or punishment for you?  A sensual connection or a degrading sex act?   Is it a power game or  the expression of equal lovers?  One person’s turn on is another’s trauma so it is an important part of the consent process to discuss this before you play.

To help you ask for what it is you really crave, I have put together some of the more popular scenarios that get my boys excited to bend over for me.  It’s far from an exhaustive list but covers some of the main fantasy  and play styles.  Which one are you?  Are you a combination of several of these?  What key themes do you  need in order for pegging to work for you?

beginner strap onAdded Spice with all Things Nice:

Key themes: Added Sensation, experimentation, Curiosity

This style is for those who are new to exploring anal play and pegging.   This type of player usually does not want to make pegging the entire focus of the session but treat it like an added spice to their main meal to give it a bit of kick.  These types tend to be more sexual rather than BDSM-focused.

Works well with:  Single digit Prostate massage, small training dildo or vibrator, sex

tantra dildoSensual Surrender:

Key Themes: Intimacy, Connection, Sensuality, Opening, Surrender, Ecstasy, Erotic Trance

Not everyone who likes to receive the attentions of my strap on is into being dominated or degraded.  (For those that do like it dirty or all about power and control, scroll on down. Your type is here too).  Anal play can be a deeply sensual, profoundly receptive experience.  To have someone enter your body with fingers or toys is to surrender and open in a way that is hard to describe.  People into this style of pegging often respond well to a full body sensual seduction first to help drop them down into a floaty aroused state.  An extended external anal massage and teasing session helps relax and arouse… preparing the body for penetration.

When its time to begin, we start gently with a single finger, loosening the anal sphincter muscles.  Pegging is never forced.  We wait until the anus invites my dildo in.  We synch rhythms through music and by tuning into what their body is ready for.   Staying deeply relaxed can make way for male G spot orgasms.  For sensual peggers, it’s about taking the time to truly sink into and open to the experience.   There are two main sub categories amongst the Sensual Surrender Types.

intimacy strap on sex2Sensual Intimacy Types:  It is important to note that some of the Sensual Surrender types will be seeking intimacy and connection while others are going into a sort of erotic trance inside themselves.   Those that seek intimacy usually seek eye contact and often enjoy being placed on their back with their legs in the air and being “made love to”.    Supportive leg harnesses and slings can help them relax their legs and therefore anal sphincters while holding this position.

My lovers bottomSensual Erotic Trance Types: are those who like to close their eyes and become completely overwhelmed by the sensations.  They go somewhere inside themselves. For trance types the play style is about facilitating surrender much like a massage therapist.  This kind of experience is about being embodied  and it helps if they feel held and supported so they can let go and submerge themselves in the experience.   This allows the trust needed for them to drop down deep.  It can be quite distracting to try to use intimacy or fantasy when they are in this state.  It can snap them right out of the embodied erotic bliss.   It always pays to negotiate what your intention is for the play session so you are not pulling in different directions.

Works well with: a full body massage, sensation play, feathers, silk scarves, blindfolds, essential oils, tantric breathing and trance techniques, sex slings, supportive foot/leg harnesses.

dominatrix strap on 2Dominatrix Dick:

Key themes: Domination, Control, Fear, Intimidation, Submission, Sadism, Masochism

For some pegging is about being dominated.  The thought of a woman with an intimidating strap-on standing over them, ordering them to bend over and spread their butt cheeks gets them immediately hard…  Or teetering on subspace…  For some this style of play is about being sexually turned on and for others it is purely an act of submission.  It’s very important to communicate which of these you are.  The more information you give your Domme about how you are wired, the more fun she can have manipulating you in ways that suit her…  And this type of session is all about what She wants…

These types often respond well to waiting on their hands and knees, ready to obey their Domme’s every word.    The scene here is about having their boundaries pushed and offering up their vulnerable asshole to please their Mistress.  She makes them take more than they thought possible.  Being a little (or a lot!) afraid of what she will do next is big part of it.  Anal play may be seen as a punishment or a reward in these play scenes. Those into Dominatrix Dick often respond well to being called “slave”. Use safe words in this role play to stop the scene if necessary.

Works well with: Bondage, Punishment, Intense Sensation Play, Fisting, Footing, Butt plugs, Enemas, Prostate milking, Figging, Electric Play, Proctoscopes, Anal hooks.

strap on big blackRavished  Rear End:

Key Themes:  Being Desired,  Taken, Overpowered

For some pegging is about being ravished and taken.  It feels good to be the object of desire and see the urgent need in your lover’s eyes.  It can feel great to be the one being “done to” rather than the one “doing” for a change.  While in real life, no one wants to be raped, it is a very popular role play fantasy to be “forced” to receive the very pleasure we secretly want.   This can take the form of being “forced”  to be penetrated with primal lust.  Perhaps they are made helpless with bondage or perhaps mind games allowing  that psychologically dominate  them to allow themselves to be used for someone else’s animalistic pleasure.

It is important to consent to this in a clear discussion beforehand and to utilise safe words should you need to stop the scene.  A safe word is a word used to stop all activity and check in to see what is wrong.  Safe words are vital in this situation because the person being ravished may want to role play protesting by saying “No, please don’t do it to me!”  and “But you are so big! I’m so scared”  or various other forms of protests.  If you have a safe word,  the ravishing can proceed with the creative gusto and all involved can sink right into the role play without fear they are actually causing harm.

Works well with: Restraint, Mixture of Rough and Sensual play, Erotic Play, Head fucking.

strap on harness 6Reluctantly Naughty:

Key Themes: Naughtiness, Dirtiness, Seduction, Forbidden Fruit, Manipulation, Submission, Coaxing, Nurturing, Control

These players enjoy the fact that anal play is still considered taboo and dirty.  They enjoy the feeling of  “wrongness”  and of  being coaxed and seduced into doing something wicked.   Some like to protest and play innocent but have someone else tease and coax them into giving up their vulnerable hole to be penetrated.   It is a form of submission and control through a mixture of authority and seduction.  Again safe words are a very good idea so you know when the reluctance is play acting and when it is real.

Works well with: Role Play, Age play, Teacher/school student, Boss/employee, Baby sitter/teenaged boy, Hot neighbor caught you peeping through her window and has decided to have her way with you or she’ll dob you in… You get the idea…

squirting strap onSlutty Toy :

Key Themes: Degradation, Being Used, Humiliation, Objectification, Domination and Submission

This style is for those who are turned on by feeling erotically used and degraded.   Picture all the stereotypes of the slut or the whore being used for another’s pleasure.  Of course I am far too sex-positive to really believe those stereotypes but it can be hot to tap into that archetype in role play.   Slutty toys often like being on their hands and knees being trained to deep throat and having their holes stretched by dildo after dildo in by ever increasing size.  These types can enjoy being trained to take whatever Mistress pleases in whatever way she likes.  Some times this can include either fantasising about or actually getting extra people of various genders to join in the fun.

Works well with:  Gang Bangs, Slut training, Exhibitionism, Forced Bi scenarios, Glory Holes, Butt plugs, Spit Roasting

sissy slut strap onThe Sissy Slut

Key Themes: Gender fucking, Being Desired, Feminine, Submissive, Degradation, Feeling Exposed, Vulnerability, Used, Objectification

This is for those who enjoy playing with gender.  It is very common to draw on traditional (and out-dated) ideas about what makes someone masculine and feminine  and swap them around.  Again, I do not believe these stereotypes are how we really are but they are nontheless super hot to mess around with in role play.

Sissy sluts revel in the opportunity to let all their suppressed “feminine” attributes to come out.  Cross dressing is a big part of this one.   “He” becomes “she” and our sissy glories in being a degraded and used sex object in frilly knickers, fishnet stockings and smeared red lipstick.  She can be re-named something like “Fee Fee” or “Trixie Belle” and taught to parade around seductively in high heels and a wig.

Being feminine is equated with being a submissive, objectified, sexually used, slutty, whore being made to get in various humiliating positions and perform sexual services for their Mistress’ entertainment.  In this version of the game our sissy slut’s cock becomes a “clitty” and her asshole becomes her “pussy”.

This can sometimes include a third person (either male or trans) to train the Sissy in real-life forced-bi scenarios.  The sissy may not actually be attracted to men at all but is turned on by being forced to perform the slutty acts in order to please Mistress.  Oral sex, deep throating, being anally penetrated.  In this instance the Mistress’ pegging may be preparation… A training tool so that the sissy can take cock.

Works well with: Role Play, cross dressing, sissy slut training program, forced bi scenarios, golden showers, squirting dildos, begging, gang bangs, glory holes, forced masturbation, edging and so much more.

sweet strap onSweet Gender Bender:

Key Themes: Desired, Femininity, Innocence, Sensuality, Playful Connection, Receptive, Sexual Awakening

Like the sissy slut, this scenario is about a man taking on a feminine archetype  through cross dressing and play acting traditional feminine roles.  However this is not a sexually degrading version of femininity but an innocent version.  Cross dressing in this instance reflects this girlish innocence in whites and pinks, ribbons and frills.

Sweet Gender Bender types often respond well to a “girls night in” role play where they hang out with their strap-on wearing girlfriend.   They play around together getting dressed up, doing each other’s hair and make up, drinking champagne, dancing to music and talking about boys.  It turns into a lesbian encounter where the innocent crossdressing girl is seduced by her girlfriend.

Again our gender bender’s penis becomes her “clitty” and her asshole becomes her “pussy”.  She enjoys the process of being spoken to in all the feminine terms; “Put your sweet little hands on my cock and give it a massage…” and “Let me see your cute little panties, do they match your bra?”  “You look so pretty tonight, that lipstick suits you…”  There is a lot of flouncing in this sort of pegging scene.  Penetration is usually on her back with her legs spread.

Works well with Role Play:  Kissing, Cross dressing, Sexy Dancing, Exhibitionism,  Erotic Teasing, Sensuality, Fashion Parade and Photoshoot

There are of course more styles than this.  We are complex creatures so you may or may not fit neatly into any of these categories.  However, this is an excellent starting point to work out what style of pegging is for you.

Artemisia de Vine

Extended Anal Training Program:
While a single play session is of course possible and pleasurable, for anal enthusiasts and those keen to explore deeper, I am offering an Extended Anal Training Package.

Anal sphincters become more flexible with training just like doing yoga makes our bodies more flexible.  It really helps to have an experienced anal expert guide you through an anal training program to discover all the nuances possible.  G spots aren’t always the obvious turn on of the cock or clitoris.  Male G spot can be  illusive, just like the female G spot.    It takes time, practice and patience to discover  just what kinds of  pleasure are possible through anal play but as many anal enthusiastc can attest, once you have accessed this kind of pleasure  it can be full body bliss.

I approach anal training as far more than just phsyically training your hole.  It is a mind, body and sometimes heart and soul journey of self discovery.  It is very much about the places we go inside ourselves during play as well as the physcial acts themselves. You can learn to use erotic embodiment practices to drop deeper into your bodies.  This enhances subspace and/or erotic states of consciousness taking play to the next level.  For those keen to see just what is possible I offer the opportunity to be guided down the anal rabbit hole.

Each package takes into account what style of anal player you are… For those into sensual anal play, the program will have a sensual focus.   For slaves types, you will be put through a vigorous anal training process under Mistress’s eagle eye and strict regime.  It is a journey into submission as much as discovering the joys of your ass.  For sissy sluts, there is a slut training regime… You get the picture…

Each Package includes:

  • Four x 2hr in-person play and training sessions
  • Journal keeping
  • Homework tasks that include training, play and education
  • Reporting back at set times
  • Integration processes

Read more about this program, the author, Sydney-based Mistress Artemisia de Vine, and other kink style sessions available here.   Contact her here.

Please note that this blog entry and all other writing on my website is copyright and cannot be reproduced without my express written permission.

 

 

Mar 052014
 

Artemisia de Vine conscious kink logoDe Vine by name and divine by nature.  I believe each form of life has the spark of divinity within them and I am no exception.  Neither are you.  I identify as a Goddess of conscious kink.  I have a Goddess persona.

In this persona I am deliberately playing with gendered archetypes.  The truth is anyone of any sex or gender can tap into these archetypes and have a powerful experience.  We all contain within us the full spectrum of possibilities.  My intention here is to draw out these aspects of myself and embody them so that you can have a chance to explore your relationship to them.  I become the mirror you can consciously interact with.

Like the Goddesses of myth, I have many forms and tap into many universal archetypes… Mother, Destroyer, Nurturer, Devourer, Queen, Siren, Seductress, Leader, Warrior, Demoness, Maiden… the moods of the sea… Your greatest ecstasy and your worst nightmare.   The holy grail.

A Goddess knows she does not have to be hard to be powerful and takes her pleasure as she pleases. She doesn’t fit neatly into categories like dominant and submissive… straight or gay… dark or light… vanilla or kink… She has a greedy appreciation of the lot.  She accesses the full spectrum of archetypes consciously and can use any colour on the personality palette to weave her play scene or ritual.

 websitebackground0.gifA Goddess of Conscious Kink is Sex, Death and Rebirth in all its cycles.

How do you feel when you think of these archetypes?  Are you humbled and want to worship her in reverence and awe?  Do you feel helpless like a small boat on the angry sea?  Do you feel the urge to control her?  Punish her?  Beg for her attentions or mercy?  What if we could consciously create a space where we could explore all of those aspects in erotic role play?  What if we could be truly honest about the complex relationship we have to these archetypes and explore the different forms they take through kink play… power play… sadomasochism… sensuality?

In my Goddess persona, I create spaces for people who want to encompass, express and experience the full spectrum or a specific aspect with awareness.

 

Artemisia de Vine antique queen final kinklogoHow is a Kinky Goddess Session Different to a Typical Dominatrix Session? 

The main difference is the intention behind the session.  We intend to consciously explore archetypes of gender,  power and desire in a slightly different way than traditional Mistress sessions.

There is nothing at all wrong with traditional Mistress sessions and I offer those too.  If that is more to  your taste then see here…

Goddess sessions tend to be more ceremonial in nature and allow for more conscious exploration of the esoteric aspects of kink, BDSM and beyond.  It  works really well with tantric techniques, ritual, Goddess worship, pain, ordeal,  initiation, role play, psychodrama, sensory deprivation, physical restriction, service ceremonies and conscious erotic shadow exploration.  I am adept at designing and creating Conscious Kink rituals to really explore the potential of our erotic shadow.

While any variety of traditional BDSM activities can be included in these sessions, they are approached with a different flavor… more mindful… more focus on states of consciousness… a clear intention for the session…connecting to  and exploring our whole selves during play, including mind, body, spirit.

Each session is negotiated  and designed individually depending on the intent and purpose.

Read more about Conscious Kink here… 

 

diamond pussy CK logo2Can you give me examples of some sessions?

A great example is the Goddess Worship Ceremony.   This session suits those that are aroused by and/or drawn to being in worshipful service. It is an opportunity to mindfully enter into a state of being that allows you to feel the honor of worship with a meditative attention to detail and an embodied awareness of every exquisite and/or excruciating moment.  For the length of the session I become your entire world.  Everything else falls away.  There is nothing but your complete service to me.

We begin with you naked before me and I guide you into a mindful state of being through breath, ceremony and deliberate symbolic acts.  I have you reverently bathe my feet with warm scented water… teaching you exactly how to touch to give, not to take… teaching you how I wish to be served… As you enter deeper and deeper into the state of worship, recognising and honoring the divine spark in me… surrendering and letting go… opening deeper and deeper… you are gradually allowed to earn the right to bathe more and more of my body…

Once you have entered the right state and I am happy with your touch, you are instructed how to use your mouth in worship… until you are in full service to every nook and cranny I desire… for as long as I desire…

For some people this remains a sensual worship… some are honored with the privilege of drinking the Goddess’s golden nectar…  For others it becomes an ordeal where they feel used…  perhaps restrained… having their face sat on while the Goddess is indifferent to their efforts to please her… Perhaps in your fantasies The Goddess is cruel, forcing you to worship with no concern for your comfort or desire… or perhaps she is motherly and nurturing… or seductively dangerous and in control… Perhaps a regal queen…  All this is negotiated.  We deliberately access the aspects we both agree to explore.

TraySadomasochist Goddess Ceremony Perhaps you are more of a masochist and desire to feel helpless while offering up your pain as an act of worship to the Goddess?  CBT? Bondage? Caning? Flogging? Nipple torture?  If so you will also be guided into an mindful state where you use each breath to offer up your pain in sacrifice.  You have the opportunity to dedicate your session to a specific intention should you choose.  Again the session here is focused very much on accessing certain states of embodied consciousness.   

FurnitureSwitch Power Play and Role Play Ceremony Perhaps you are more suited to a scenario where you explore your relationship to the Goddess through role play and power play… Perhaps you are in control or perhaps I am…  Maybe we switch… What attitude towards the Goddess are you drawn to explore?  Are there aspects of humiliation and degradation?  Of forcing desired acts?  Do you want to explore age play?   Or other themes of power and desire?

Again this is clearly negotiated and entered into with awareness.  We have a clear beginning and end and bring it all back full circle to mutual respect at the end.  It is a chance to let ourselves fully enter into a particular role and experience “what is” for the agreed span of time.  This can be very powerful not to mention seriously hot! 

Mistress high heelsAre you the Goddess? Perhaps you want to explore drawing on the Goddess archetypes within you?  In this session you would be guided into a deep experience of drawing out the chosen archetype within you by using some simple but very powerful, guided, mindful, embodiment exercises.  Once you are deeply in your persona we can explore erotic and/or power play together in that state.  Perhaps through being the slut, the object of objectification, degradation, desire or just feeling the joy of sensual satins on your skin by wearing clothes traditionally seen as feminine… What would it be like for you to be worshipped or reviled as Goddess?  So many possibilities!

These are just a few examples of how a Goddess session could look.  Each session is designed around the unique wiring of both of us.  We find where we overlap and agree on an intention and work out a scenario from there.

 

Do I have to be religious or new age to benefit these sessions? 

Absolutely not!  I do not impose my beliefs on you.  You do however need to be drawn to a session where the spark of life within each or us is seen as something worth honoring.  From there we can design a session around your particular worldview and intentions taking into account your personal boundaries and beliefs.  However these sessions do tend to appeal to those who are into yoga, meditation and appreciate the mind, body, spirit connection.  They suit those who enjoy the journey of deep self discovery and connection.

 

dominatrix cropped textWhat about chakras and energy work?

Yes I believe in these things and am experienced in using them in a kinky context.  We can include this side of things if you choose to but this is done with your consent, not inflicted on you.  I find the more aspects of us we include in our kink play, the more profound the experience.  However I cannot predict how you will experience this as it is different from person to person and session to session.  I can guide you into this aspect of kink play… or not… depending on your inclinations and our agreed on intention.

I draw on aspects of tantra, taoism, sexual shamanic traditions, meditation, various erotic body-mind techniques.  Mostly it is about deepening the states of consciousness possible and engaging all of us with awareness and intention.

 

Do these sessions include PIV (penis/dildo in vagina) sex? 

Usually not but occasionally it feels right for a session to include this.  I am not at all against this kind of sex!  It is however my experience that when PIV becomes involved it often becomes the main focus and the richness of the kink is missed.   It is my experience that in most scenarios, the places we travel to together become so much deeper when PIV is taken off the table.  Furthermore, sometimes sex is simply completely irrelevant to the head space we are aiming to achieve.

Having said this, occasionally it does feel exactly the right thing to do for a particular scenario.  I am happy to include PIV sex when I feel that it would honestly enhance the experience and not detract from it.   And, quite frankly, if I feel like it.  A Goddess tends not to do anything she doesn’t want to whether or not she is playing the submissive or dominant role.   I do charge extra for sexual sessions.

 

venus 3Sounds great!  How do I arrange a session?

We need to have a chat on the phone to work out the best way we can play together.  I will guide you through working out the best kind of scenario for you. This really needs to be done by phone because we need to get a feel for each other.   You can shoot me an initial email at artemisia@consciouskink.com to sound out the basics of the kind of session you are after but we will need to speak in person to negotiate.

Call me between 10:30am-8pm Mon-Friday on 0420 415 658.

You can check out location, prices and practical details here…

If you enjoyed this blog and would like to find out about future workshops, blogs and events as well as tours to your area, sign up to my mailing list.

 

 

Feb 232014
 

If you have not already read part 1, I suggest you start there.  See part 1 here… 

Mistress high heelsI turned and began walking through the shopping centre, each high-heeled step a deliberate movement of seduction.  He fumbled with the phallic vegetable and bottle of lube I had insisted he purchase.  I could hear his nervous breath as he attempted to hide the objects in his hands while we walked through the busy centre.

He followed me, uncertain of what I planned to do after the earlier humiliation foreplay in the fruit and vegetable section of the supermarket.

I took my time, stopping to look at the various window displays, taking note of my victim’s flushed cheeks in the reflection of the glass.  I enjoyed toying with him.  No doubt his mind was busily trying to work out what I was going to make him do with that impossibly big phallic vegetable.

His skin was bright with embarrassment.  The more he visualised just what I was going to make him do next, the more he felt as though every passing shopper also knew exactly what was about to happen to him.  Exposed… embarrassed… aroused…  desperately wanting to get away from the laser beams of their eyes yet feeling completely turned on by it.

I bent over in my tight, shapely skirt and adjusted my shoe slightly.  I watched with amusement as I saw him shift his jeans uncomfortably… blood flowing unbidden to his crotch making his pants grow tight and stiff.

“No where to hide little mouse… “ I purred.

Next I asked him to purchase me a large drink while he was still holding on the embarrassing objects and struggling with the fact he was semi erect.  Not  hard enough for anyone else to notice, but hard enough to make him very self-conscious.

He ordered the drink, avoiding making eye contact with the cashier, no doubt imagining she knew exactly what was happening in his dirty little mind. She didn’t of course, but that didn’t stop his face from turning several shades more crimson.

I seductively licked my lips and began sucking through my straw, leaving lashings of red lipstick kisses all over it.  I just watched him through heavy lids as I slurped and sucked every last drop down.  Eye contact can speak volumes.  He squirmed…

When I was done I had him dispose of the cup and I walked slowly and deliberately towards the stairs to the second floor where the cinemas reside.  We walked together in tense, excited silence.  Every sense alert, pulsing and alive.

I could feel his relief as we entered the darkened foyer of the cinemas.  It was easier to not be noticed here.  Not so much light and the thick, red carpet muffled the clickety clack of my ridiculously high heels.

unisex-toiletI sauntered over to the unisex toilet and waited until there was no one around.

“Quickly now, in we go!” I said eyeing the bathroom door.

He hesitated but my face expression told him I would tolerate no disobedience so he slipped inside.  It was a large cubicle.  Big enough for what I had planned…

“Hand me the vegetable,” I said calmly.  He passed it to me.  It was a bright green vegetable I didn’t know the name of.  It was covered in wart-like bumps and was as long as my forearm… and certainly a lot thicker…

“Mistress, I… I don’t know if I…”  he began stammering.

I just looked amused and raised one eyebrow.  “You don’t know if you can what, slave?”

He eyed the vegetable and gulped.

Without breaking eye contact, I opened the bottle of lube and deliberately poured it all over the vegetable like chocolate sauce on an ice cream sunday.    Clear, slippery gel wound its tendrils down the vegetable in thick ribbons.

“But… I’m sorry Mistress, but I really don’t think I can take that!” he stammered.

“Is that so, slave?” I purred, again amused.

I reached over and grabbed a handful of hair at the scruff of his neck yanking his head back, opening his mouth and pulling him off-balance.

“I suspect you will do as your told don’t you?”  I whispered so close to his ear that my breath tickled his lobe.

“Besides, I told you there would be… consequences... if you chose a smaller vegetable than I did, didn’t I, slave?”.

His eyes widened but he didn’t answer.

“I can’t hear you” I purred… “Didn’t I warn you slave?”

“Y…Yes Mistress” he stammered.

marsian phallus 2I thrust the tip of the marsian looking phallus in his mouth and watched him strain to take it in… lube spilling down his chin.  He mumbled and moaned but it was muffled by the vegetable unceremoniously stuffed in his orifice.

“Now that I have your full attention, slave, I am going to give you some instructions.  I want to you to listen very carefully and obey to the letter, do you understand?”  He nodded, eyes wide and mouth still full.  I thrust the vegetable in a little further and watched impassively as he struggled to take it.

“In a moment I am going to let you go.  When I do I want you to unzip your jeans and pull them down to your ankles.  I then want you bend over the toilet, resting your hands on the flush tank and present your bottom to me.  You need to be very quiet so we are not overheard. There could be people right outside the door.  Do you understand?

“Yes mistress” he mumbled through the vegetable gag.

I released the scruff of his neck and removed the marsian phallus vegetable from his mouth.  He immediately unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, exposing his very hard cock standing in full salute to me.

I smiled to myself.  Here was a complete stranger I had never met before doing my every bidding.  I took a moment to savor that thrill.  He had contacted me through my professional dominatrix website and we had negotiated a session.  Even though I am a professional with an excellent reputation, it still takes guts to trust and obey someone you do not know.  There is an art to seducing submission out of someone and I love every second of it.

He turned around and assumed the position as instructed.  He no doubt heard the snap of my latex gloves.

“I like being fully dressed when you are all vulnerable and exposed slave”  I whispered throatily.   “Being bent over and humiliated suits you…”

I slapped his perky arse cheek and slithered a lubed finger down his crack, making him jump.

inside toilet cubicle“Shshshsh my wicked boy, we both know you are going to do as you are told and open up for me”.  I reassured him in a lullaby voice of honey seduction. “We both know you like to be fucked and I am going to invade your most secret places”.

I pushed a finger into his arse.  He gasped with the shock of it but soon relaxed into a moan of pleasure.

His hole was tight and we both knew he would never be able to take the vegetable phallus but I was enjoying playing with his head.  With my other hand, I rolled the vegetable between his butt cheeks and down through his thighs to tickle his balls.  I began gently thrusting my finger in and out, massaging his prostate with every stroke.

We could hear the muffled sound of people in the cinema foyer, going about their business.

He began moaning quietly and rocking back and forth, obviously enjoying being penetrated.

“I think you like it don’t you slave?  Tell me how much you like being fucked up the arse slave?  I want to hear you beg for more.”

“Yes Mistress!  I love being your slave.  I’ll do anything you say.  Please fuck me Mistress”.

“You’re a little slut aren’t you slave? Tell me how much of a horny slut you are.”

“I’m your horny little slut, Mistress. I’m your little slut.  Please fuck me Mistress!”.

At this point he was so aroused he would have done anything at all and I knew it.  I thrust a few more times and then stopped abruptly, leaving him empty and desperate for more.

“Now slave, I am going to give you a choice.  You can either take this delightfully large marsian phallus all the way up your arse or you can open your mouth and let me use it as a toilet.  I did drink an awful lot you see…  I want you to drink every last drop of my golden nectar and thank me for it.  Which will it be?”

He hesitated.  I drummed my fingers impatiently.  “Hmmm?”

We both knew that he was revolted by the idea of drinking my piss but that the phallus was impossible for his tight, untrained arse to take.  It wasn’t really a choice.  He would have to become my living toilet.

I held the marsian phallus up for him to assess.  “Which is it to be?”

“I.. I will take the golden shower, Mistress” he stammered.

“Good boy”.  I smiled.  Now lie down on the ground and open your mouth.  I want to hear you say that you are my toilet.

He lay down obediently and half opened his mouth nervously.  He didn’t say anything.  I could feel how humiliating it was for him to say those words out loud.  His cock was harder than ever but still he struggled.

“I want to hear you say it slave” I repeated impatiently.

“I, I am your toilet Mistress.  I am yours to piss on.  You may piss in my mouth and I will drink every last drop.  I am yours to do with as you please”.

“Yes, yes your are.” I purred.

Pouring oil or golden liquid.I slowly hitched my skirt up to reveal my black satin g-string.  I slipped my fingers under the elastic and flicked it against my skin.  I stepped across him so one of my high-heeled shoes was on either side of his head, giving him an exquisite view up my skirt.

I slowly slipped my panties off, sliding them down my plump, stocking-clad legs.  I slipped them down all the way to my ankles so they stretch taut across his nose and mouth filling his nostrils with the scent of my pussy, hesitated a moment, then flicked them off altogether.

“Open your mouth little slave.  Open wider than that.  For if you do not drink every drop, my golden shower will spill all over your shirt and you do not have a change of clothes”.

I let that sink in.

Then I stretched luxuriously and bent down into a squat, positioning my pussy only inches from his face.  So close, yet so far away…

He opened very wide, not wanting to spill a drop.

At first it was just a trickle… a little splish, splash… I controlled the stream in short bursts letting it gush into his open mouth and roll over his tongue.  I heard him struggle not to spit it out… struggle to keep his mouth open…

His cock was so hard I could have used it as a crow bar.  He may be revolted, degraded and humiliated but he was enjoying this as much as I was.

“Taste it slave.  I want you to taste my golden vintage like a wine.  Savor it. Swish it around your mouth, there’s a good little toilet”.

I squirted another warm gush into his open mouth and watched him struggle to obey.  It was a little too much for him however as some spilled out the corners of his mouth and dribbled down his chin and the front of his chest.

I held the phallus up for him to see clearly.  “Drink it ALL up or you will have to take this after all” I threatened with an amused voice. “It will be very entertaining for me”.

He doubled his efforts to comply with my wishes and I began to gush in earnest making it very difficult for him to swallow in time without my piss going all over him.

Just at that point there was a sudden banging on the door.  A male voice, obviously an employee of the cinema, said, “Excuse me but you need to come out of there.  You were both seen entering the toilet and you’ve been in there far too long.  You need to come out immediately!”

puddle“Just a moment please” I said sweetly while continuing to piss all over my slave.  The surprise knock had made me jump, spraying my golden shower all down the front of my slave’s shirt.  He was soaked.  I may as well finish the job I thought sadistically.  I sprayed one final gush all over his face and clothes.

My slave was in a panic.  He had been getting off on the idea of maybe getting caught but to actually be caught!  Well that was the ultimate humiliation!

I calmly stuffed my panties in my handbag and disposed of the vegetable and lube bottle in the bin.

I then folded my arms amused as my slave tried desperately to clean himself up. He wiped his face with toilet paper as best he could but there really wasn’t anything for it but to come out covered in my golden nectar.  He looked terrified!

There was more banging on the door from the manager.  “I really must insist that you come out of there immediately” he said in a commanding loud voice.  This of course attracted attention of passers-by.  When we did open the door there was a small crowd to greet us, all staring at us.

I stepped out perfectly neat and tidy in my tight skirt and seductive heels… a small wicked smile on my face…

My slave followed out awkwardly behind me covered in piss and unable to do a thing about it.  I walked slowly and deliberately across the hall with all eyes burning into us.  I can’t imagine what they were speculating.  Could they smell the urine or did they think it was water on his shirt?

car parkI know my slave had never squirmed so much in painful, arousing embarrassment in his life!  He was both horrified and secretly loving it.  I did not hurry a single step.

Down the esculator and back in to the main shopping centre, we walked the slow parade of shame.  Soaked in my scent he was forced to walk at a sedate pace through the flouro lit halls.  The walk seemed to last forever.   A smile curled my lips every step of the way… enjoying every awkward moment of humiliation… every excrutiating moment of exquisite torture.

After what seemed like an eternity, we reached the car park.

I turned, noticed his straining erection had returned… and simply winked at him… then walked off to my car without another word.

I just left him standing there in the delicious torment of degradation and arousal.  I left him burning with need for release.  Ah, a Mistress can be so cruel.

******

He wrote to me later to tell me that was one of the most extraordinary, unusual and arousing experiences he had ever had.  He has a thoroughly wicked and hot story to climax to over and over for years to come.

******

This story is based on a real session in my early days as a professional dominatrix and humiliatrix.  All sessions are negotiated and consented to and my slave had a safe word he could have used to stop any activities at any time.  I had no intention of actually getting caught and involving innocent by-standers but it just happened that way.

I have written a blog here about how humiliation can actually be a deeply loving and conscious way to approach kink.  Check it out here…

For those interested in sessions with me, I am currently based in Sydney, Australia.  See my website for further details.

This story is copyright and may not be reproduced in any way without express, written permission from me, Artemisia de Vine.

Nov 182013
 

Mistress A

Had a fantastic talk after an intense humiliation session. The only part of us that gets upset when we are humiliated is the ego. By surrendering to humiliation we can sometimes also surrender the ego and find a beautiful sub space.  Sent that client home wearing a nappy… ;)

A brave erotic adventurer of a young man asked me to role play an unrequited love scene.  Fascinating and potent stuff!  He had such a great attitude and I loved playing with him.

My cross dressing, exhibitionist ,sissy slut is an absolute darling who delights in buying really hot, good quality sexy things for herself.  She also brought me roses cut from the garden she tends herself.

What will tomorrow bring?  Bring it on Canberra!

(Only in Canberra until Nov 21st…. but will be back so join my mailing list if you want to know when I tour here again).

Nov 122013
 

Mistress high heelsWe wore ordinary clothes to blend in.  Well almost.  I couldn’t resist a tight, shapely skirt, lashings of red lipstick, seamed stockings and elegant heels.   People tend to notice my very generous cleavage too so I never really blend in.   However I wasn’t in full dominatrix attire and he was dressed plainly in jeans and a t-shirt.

I calmly watched his nervous fingers fidget.  We met in a shopping centre and he had no idea what was going to happen next.  He just knew he had asked to be humiliated in public.  He tried to look casual but his chest rose and fell with the quickened breath of someone whose senses were on high alert.  Alive excitement…  Anticipation…  Fear…  I could smell it.

“Follow me” I said and slowly began walking through the shops.  There is no hurrying in heels that high so each step was deliberate and seductive.   He followed, eyes on my every movement.   Past cafes and boutiques, past stationary and tobacco shops  we walked those white tiles and flouro lit walk ways until we found ourselves at the supermarket.  Busy check outs whirring and bustling.

He looked at me waiting for me to speak… wondering what on earth I had in mind… the corners of my mouth curled in amusement.  I turned and walked in.  He followed me, his every fibre tuned into me, his Mistress.  I had his full attention and I intended to play with it.

We entered the fruit and vegetable section taking in the smells and sounds… and the shapes… yes the shapes…

supermarketI ran a finger provocatively over a zucchini and leaned down to look intently into his eyes.  With a voice low and throaty enough to only be heard by him I gave him his instructions.  “I want you to take your time and walk through the entire fruit and vegetable section until you find the largest phallic shaped vegetable here and bring it to me.   Make sure you get it right because there will be… consequences… if I find a larger one… ”

He paused, eyeing the people all around us, not quite sure.  I clapped twice sharply, “Off you go” I commanded loudly.    He skitted into action noticing the sudden attention being drawn to us.   Attention is like heat that can sizzle your skin and sear your bones.  We literally can feel people’s eyes on us and our bodies respond.  Energy is energy whether it is sexual energy or the energy of embarrassment… or more potent still, shame.  Some of us know how to weave that shame energy into pleasure by eroticising it and what an intense hit it can be!  I watched his face flush momentarily with a mini rush of  it.  Humiliation foreplay…

He walked around carefully looking at all the fruit and vegetables, occasionally picking one up to measure it against another.  I could see him both wanting to hurry up but also fearing getting it wrong.   Eventually he approached me with a very large cucumber.

“Are you sure that is the one you want to choose”?  I asked loudly enough for those around to overhear.   He hesitated, unsure, and then nodded.

marsian phallus 2I just looked at him a moment, giving nothing away.  I  then walked deliberately to the section he hadn’t noticed.   I held up a marsian green vegetable covered in little wart-like bumps. I didn’t even know the name of it.  It was the most bizarre, alien looking thing.  Long as my fore-arm and slightly wider.  I looked at him over the tip of it… “I suspect mines bigger than yours, wouldn’t you say?”

He gulped and nodded.  I let that sink in for a moment.

“I’ll just get you to hold onto that while we do a little more shopping,” I said suddenly deceptively casual. I handed him the marsian phallus, turned and walked off down the aisle with him trotting behind.   Without hesitation I walked straight to the personal hygiene aisle and stopped with a loud sigh in front of the lubricants.

“Pick one” I said pointing, “Oh and make it a big one because we are going to need a lot” .  I eyed the vegetable he was carrying.    He blushed bright as a christmas light but obediently grabbed a bottle.   He tried to hide it in his hands but it was still quite obvious what it was.   Again the corners of my mouth curled in amusement.

I took my time walking the different aisles looking at the merchandise, never paying much attention to my victim as he awkwardly followed me around carrying the marsian phallus and lube as inconspicuously as it is possible to carry such things.  There really are no shadows to hide in a flourescent-lit supermarket.  I let the tension build.

Eventually I stopped and asked him to meet me out the front of the supermarket after he had paid for his two items.   “No plastic bags as they are bad for the environment,” I purred with a wink.

cash registerI watched with amusement as he waited in line clutching his items while trying to look perfectly normal.  I enjoyed his struggle to buy everyday items while imagining everyone knew what they were for.  I could see him shift uncomfortably on his feet, keeping his eyes down… trying to make himself small…  There certainly were some raised eyebrows and amused looks as he stood there, seemingly forever, waiting for his turn to plonk the items down  in front of the cash register.

Finally it was his turn and he placed the items in front of the bored cashier.  She looked up  and what was in front of her registered in her mind.  She paused a moment, stifled a smile but then, to her credit, she carried on as normal but you could see her mind ticking over.  It’s hard not to make an association between the two items and my victim knew it.

“Do you want a bag for these?” she asked.  He risked a glance at me standing several metres away.  “Ah, no thanks” he stammered.  Time seemed to slow down excruciatingly as she processed the items.   My victim stood perfectly still,  but the scarlet creeping into his ears was a dead give away.  His body was rushing with embarrassment…  exposed…  tingles of humiliation rising through him… mind overloading as his feelings became so strong he could do nothing but experience them… desperately wishing he could run away but at the same time, loving it.

He hurriedly paid, dropping his money twice in his fumbling attempt to get out of the spotlight as quickly as possible.  He picked up the lube and alien cock-vegetable and rushed over to me, partly relieved that he was through the first ordeal but also clearly wondering what on earth was going to happen next.  His impulse was to rush off but I made him wait.  I just stood there and let him feel it for a moment.

“You look a little flushed dear” I said with a twinkle in my eye.

– by Artemisia de Vine –

See Part 2 to find out what happened next…

Note:  This story is based on a real session early in my career as a professional dominatrix and humiliatrix.  I specialise in play sessions that allow people to engage in their natural kinky wiring in an aware way.  I am often asked how I can both deeply care for my clients and also thoroughly enjoy humiliating them.  I have written a blog about that here… 

All material in this blog is copyright to Artemisia de Vine and may not be duplicated in anyway without express written permission.

 

Nov 092013
 

Temptation logoAs a professional Dominatrix, ocassional switch and educator in the world of conscious kink, I am often asked how I can possibly thoroughly enjoy play sessions that intentionally humiliate or embarrass my play partner.  How can I be invested in a loving, self-aware path that focuses on mindfulness and embodied meditation and also be into objectifying, degrading, controlling and belittling another human being?

Warning!  This blog discusses explicit adult themes of a fetish, BDSM and kink nature.   

It’s true that I am both a person who strives for integrity and cares deeply for the well-being of my play partners while at the same time I find it incredibly hot to make them perform erotically humiliating acts.  It’s one of my specialties and personal core erotic themes.  I am a humiliatrix.  I even like to some times, with the right partner, switch roles.  Embarrassment, power and eroticism frequently go hand in hand.

Being conscious about kink certainly doesn’t mean “light  and fluffy” BDSM only.  Delving into the feeling of danger and mystery can often be what ignites our erotic play… taking risks… peeking into the dark crevices of our souls…  exploring power or intensity can be what gives a session its bite and heat… carving a delicious memory into our flesh that lasts a life time.    

It could be as simple as having to bare your bottom and bend over for a thorough spanking… being anally taken by a strap on… forced to worship my feet… verbal put downs from mild  to intense…. being made to kneel… spat on… called names… small cock humiliation… put in degrading positions… being made to eat out of a dog bowl…  forced to drink golden showers…  being treated like a sissy slut…  being tied up, teased and laughed at about how turned on you are and how you are never going to be allowed to actually touch the body in front of you… and far more intense, explicit things I won’t go into here. 

shadow04Erotic Shadows

Conscious kink is not about sanitising that… It is about engaging with it in a consensual and aware way that aims to have a positive effect on all involved and allows us to travel deeper into each moment.  It is about learning and harnessing skills to ride the wave rather than be rolled by it… and to enter states of being and, well, consciousness one cannot get to otherwise.  Consciously approaching kink play takes bravery to be self-aware, take self-responsibility and be the hero on your own erotic quest of self discovery.  Far from detracting from the experience, being conscious in BDSM play only makes it more potent.

Each of us have core erotic themes that run through our fantasies and erotic dream-scape.  Core erotic themes vary greatly from person to person and are very often made up of the parts of us that we have suppressed as part of our personal and cultural upbringing.   As we develop and adopt the socially acceptable ways of being and behaving in any given family or culture, some natural parts of us are deemed inappropriate.   Showing anger might be one… taking up too much body space might be another… openly expressing our sexuality might be another…  According to Carl Jung, all of these aspects of our personality are suppressed into our unconscious where we are no longer aware of it on  a day-to-day basis.   The qualities that are suppressed are called our shadow and contains both negative and positive aspects of us.   Our shadow becomes the part of us we can’t see yet has a huge impact on the way we feel, act and react all the time.

Creating shadows is a natural part of learning to belong to any culture but creating shadows also creates shame.  It’s pretty simple.   Suppressing certain aspects of us also creates shame about those aspects.   Our shadow self is made up of all these suppressed aspects.  We access our unconscious, where our shadow lives, through the images and feelings in day and night dreams, imagination and yes, our sexual fantasies.     

Core erotic themes vary greatly from person to person but we all have them  if we dig deep enough we find common flavors running through our sexual fantasies and none of them are politically correct.  Some people, have core erotic themes that are about longing, being desired, having power, being powerless and some of us have core erotic themes that are formed from the clay of humiliation, embarrassment and shame.   Even those that have non humiliation core erotic themes, may have a smattering of humiliation woven through their fantasies anyway.  It is not universal but is very common.   

portal spaceSexual Fantasy as Portal to the Unconscious

Our sexual fantasies are gateways to these suppressed aspects of ourselves because being aroused or in sub space or both, takes us into a different state of consciousness.  When in these head-spaces we think, feel and experience things differently.  In these states of consciousness the veil between unconscious self and conscious self is thinner.  The unconscious bleeds through and we start to think in the langauge of the unconscious… in dream language… in fantasy language… So we have sexual fantasy and shame hand in hand here…  We also have an opportunity  for  inner alchemy here.  To turn the base metals into gold…  All the ingredients are there.   We have an opportunity for the conscious and unconscious to co-operate and align if we choose to embrace our shadow in our erotically fuelled  and/or subspace altered state of consciousness.   

knickersSissy Sluts as an Example of Erotic Shadow 

Cis men into cross dressing are into it for a huge variety of reasons and not all of them have a core erotic theme based in humiliation.  Like-wise, not every one who has humiliation as a core erotic theme is into cross dressing.   I am just using cross dressing as a possible expression of someone who has humiliation as a core erotic theme in the example below.

A person born in a male body is socialised to “act like a man” and “man up” from the moment he is first put in his pale blue onesy as a baby.   Depending on the particular culture, subculture and family beliefs, the idea of how to ‘act like a man” will have various expressions.  Some common themes are not being allowed to wear pink, satin, frills, flowers, make up, or anything associated with being a “girl”.   Crying, showing emotion, forming intimate connections with mates where feelings are openly shared… skipping… moving the pelvis in a “feminine” way etc…  Along for the ride with this mentality is the idea that men are the “doers” in sex and women are the “done to”.   Sex inherently taints women but not men.  Being receptive is female…  Being penetrated is not a “manly” thing to do. 

These attributes and acts literally have to be trained  out of our boys to turn them into “men”.   That means the attributes were there to start with buthad to be suppressed. Many aspects of  masculinity have to be performed and reinforced and are often reinforced quite brutally.  I’m not saying there aren’t natural differences between people born with penises and those born with pussies, but I am saying there are clearly also some pretty strong socialisation processes.  Boys frequently bully each other the second they show any sign of being “girly”.  Being like a girl is the worst crime and is considered weak, submissive and pathetic.  It may even earn you a beating and being socially ostracized.   There is deep shame in showing any attributes considered feminine.  Having a “big cock” is the ultimate symbol of being a sexually virile manly man and is associated with dominance.

barbieAs a dominatrix, I see a lot of men who are incredibly turned on by being forced to wear girly, frilly panties.  They feel really turned on by being forced to do all those things normally considered “sissy” but have no idea why.  It is such a common pattern there is a common name for it.  It’s called a “sissy slut” session.  The sissy sluts who also have humiliation as part of their turn on want to feel all the girly things forbidden to them and be humiliated for it.   They want to feel sexually desired and objectified the way women often are.  They love the feel of the silky under things against their skin but for the humiliation themed sissies, it isn’t truly hot until they are mocked and degraded for it.   They want to not only be smeared in lipstick and made to take on the body language of girls but they want to be degraded and called a slut for it… forced to suck my strap on and then be used anally.   Some find having their cock mocked as small and useless is a real turn on.   Basically, living out their worst fears and transforming them into something pleasurable through eroticising them.

This is just a small sample of many possible forms humiliation sessions might take.  Anyone of any gender can enjoy humiliation play on either the giving or the recieving end.  Another example could be treated like an animal, caged  and collared… because likewise the aspects of us that are considered uncultured, raw and sexual are often correlated with “acting like an animal”.  

Another person may enjoy eroticising the feeling of being seen and used as just a sex object.   Some may secretly fantasise about being a trussed up like a naked, hog-tied, turkey in the middle of the boardroom table while surrounded with corporate types in suits observing and analyzing them.   Others enjoy the thought of  being de-humanised altogether and treated like a resource.  A thing.  Or actively scolded and dressed down.

It’s not always overtly erotic either.  It can be more about subspace and the state of consciousness people go when the mind is tricked into a state of open surrender.  Sub space = submission space and often ressembles the place meditators aim to access.  A surrender of the ego to let some other part of us take the driver’s seat.  

Humiliation is complex.  I won’t go into all the possible nuances here.  Some of us have it as a deeply rooted core erotic theme that will remain with us for the rest of their lives.  Others of us have other core erotic themes but have aspects of feeling shame and embarrassment threading through our secret masturbation fantasies like a spice that adds the kick.  It’s not surprising really given the mixed messages we are given about our sexuality from the get go.  It’s a source of wonder and great shame.  The sex Goddess is also the “slut” and the “whore”.  

thespianDoesn’t acting it out reinforce it?  How can that be conscious and healthy?

So what do we do with this?   I have met may a tantrika or well-meaning person who thinks we need to heal this aspect of ourselves.  While I agree that working through sexual shame is one of the great works of our era, I do not agree that  our sexual fantasies and consensual role plays should be “healed”.  That is, the aim of conscious kink as I see it, is not to make those uncomfortable fantasies go away.   To avoid embracing our politically incorrect turn ons would be to suppress those aspects of ourselves even further… creating an even stronger struggle between our conscious minds and our shadow selves.   Instead, I propose we embrace our shadow in a conscious, lusty, full power way with a cherry on top!

By creating safe spaces to bring out and explore our shadow selves in a play scene we are creating a container with a neat beginning, middle and end that allows us to let the usually suppressed parts of ourselves take the driver’s seat.  It is a ritual if you like, where we can create temporary, different rules and ways of being that we consent to with awareness.  Our subconscious doesn’t speak the same langauge or play by the same rules as our conscious minds.  In a play scene we are letting the language of the subconscious take over, or at least bleed through.   By acting these shadow aspects of ourselves out, we  create an opportunity to bring the paradoxical elements of ourselves into alignment.  The paradox never goes away but we learn to ride it and find the treasure at the heart of it.  It is right there in the point where darkness and light meet that the magic lies.  

The point is not to turn darkness into light.  Oh no!  Too much sweetness and light leads to spiritual diabetes.  The point is to ride the paradox and engage with it consciously.  

By bringing unconscious and conscious into alignment something powerful happens.  Our shadow is no longer, well unconsciously controlling our feelings, reactions, beliefs, relationships.   Instead, the conscious and unconscious are co operating and co creating.  The shadow becomes our ally rather than our feared monster under the bed and we have a sense of inner alignment.

This moment of paradox in alignment sometimes just happens accidentally without us ever consciously examining any of the whys and hows.   The play is enough on its own to create this effect.   If you are erotically drawn to something and you have the opportunity to live it out in a safe way with consenting adults, then go for it.  Follow those erotic cookie crumbs!  They are leading you to a deeper relationship with your shadow self.   However just doing it randomly is a bit hit and miss.  

If we enter into humiliation play with awareness and conscious intention, we have the potential to nudge the result into an even more effective and powerful place more often.  While there are never any guarentees, the result is far more likely to be empowering rather than reinforcing the status quo.  There is the world of difference between a client who comes to me like our play is a dirty secret, feels ashamed that he has this need, responds unconsciously by being shifty and sleazy and then turning on me afterwards, to a client who comes to me willing to be the hero on his own inner alchemy quest by exploring his Kink proclivities with awareness and taking self-responsibility.   The outcome of the two sessions are vastly different.

In the case of the sissy sluts, conscious kink creates a place to play with gender.   We don’t try to make it politically correct because that would actually kill the power of acting out our shadow selves.  Remember the unconscious is not politically correct and we need to allow space to give it voice.   By acting out our sissy slut, we come into a greater awareness and relationship with the suppressed so-called “girly” or “slutty” parts of ourselves.    Instead of then becoming revolted when men act in “girly” ways without knowing why, we begin to lose that knee jerk revulsion.  We then have more choice around how we interact with gender and allow those around us to interact with their own gender identity in whatever way they choose.  Being  sissy slut doesn’t stop beign a turn on for us and as far as I am concerned it shouldn’t.   What happens is we have a more aware, healthy relationship to our inner sissy slut that ripples out into our relationship with ourself and others in all areas of life. 

erotic themesPersonal Core Erotic Themes

Each of us has different core erotic themes so not every one will be drawn to explore humiliation scenes.   Of those into humiliation, there will be a huge variety of fantasies about how that might manifest in your hottest turn ons.   Certainly not everyone will be turned on by being a made into a sissy slut.  While many men go through the process of having the “girl” beaten out of them through socialisation, only some end up with sissy slut fantasies.   No one really knows why for sure.  

Perhaps instead your fantasies are based on being caught masturbating, or having the girl you fancy use her power over you to make you jump through hoops?   Being degraded and having your mouth used as a toilet…  Or simply being made to beg to be fucked…  Maybe you like role play where you are caught rifling through your neighbor’s  knicker draw and she threatens to tell your parents if you don’t do exactly as she says…  Maybe you fantasise about being naked in a board room full of corporate types in suits?  The scenarios are endless and I have become very creative in finding ways to tease out those hots spots in an individual’s core erotic theme.  

The reason that I am drawn to humiliation play is that is one of my own core erotic themes.  I get it.  I really get it.  My goodness did it take me a long time to be able to admit it!   I’m into degrading and erotically humiliating others and under the right circumstances, I’m turned on by having the tables turned.  Oh the shame of having humiliation and degradation as a turn on.  *Cue irony*

As an aside, It is also worth noting that having core erotic themes like humiliation, does not stop us from also accessing other forms of erotic pleasure like making love, sensuality, ecstatic erotically-fuelled trance states, kundalini experiences and more.   Fantasy and kink play is only one possible expression out of many.   If you only know how to be aroused from your core erotic theme and can’t access any other forms of erotic interaction, then I suggest going to a sexologcial bodyworker or other conscious sexuality professional and learning how to access even more potential within you.  More options  = more ways of playing and connecting with self and others. 

ying-yang-yin-x-250943 So what makes Conscious Kink humiliation play sessions any different? 

There are all sorts of skills from neo-tantra, mindfulness and other somatic embodiment practices that are helpful to enhance any sort of kink play.  There are all sorts of subtle ways of  moving into deeper relationship with self from various esoteric traditions and somatic body-mind techniques.  Techniques from tantra, yoga, mindfulness and transcendental meditation practices all translate well into kink play.  However,  a really great place to start is simply with intention and awareness.

Just being aware that this play is a opportunity to own our erotic shadow selves and make them an ally already makes a big difference to how we approach any session.   Having the intention to tune into and embrace our erotic shadow changes everything.

I find discussing and stating out loud our intention in a clear sentence or two before we begin has a subtle but potent impact on a play scene.  Our unconscious responds to our intentions in ways that ripple out into our lives in ways we can’t really pre-conceive.   Having the intention, to love and respect ourselves and consciously let go for a given amount of time to fully enter into a normally suppressed way of being, accepting ourselves and each other “warts and all” makes a big difference.  Being witnessed, accepted and held in our  secret, sexy, vulnerable, shameful places is huge!

This kind of play often leads to a way of being where our shadow selves start to work with us in everyday life rather than control us in unconscious ways, bursting out like volcanos in seemingly unconnected areas of our lives.  Personally, I have been blown away with just how powerful simple tools like intention and awareness have.

barbed candleConscious Kink as a Spiritual Path 

Each person has their own spiritual or existential perspective and far be it from me to tell you what to think.  You certainly don’t  have to adopt my take on spirituality for this process to work.   However, to me, the great soul work of being human is to fully experience being human and awaken to our full selves.  Awaken all the layers…  We often wander about in a sleep walk, living our pre-programmed social scripts and wonder why we feel dissatisfied.   The antidote is to wake up!

More and more people are waking up and truly living.  One of the key ways to do this is to befriend our shadow selves and turn it into an ally.    One excellent and effective way to do this is through accessing our sexuality… where the veils between the conscious and unconscious are naturally thinner and alignment is more easily achievable.

I am of the school of thought that we are not human beings having a spiritual experience but we are spiritual beings having a human experience.  That means everything is already sacred just the way it is.  However the ultimate experience is being conscious of and fully exploring our humanity with awareness of our inner spark of divinity.  We feel the most right, the most content and at “home” when we are in alignment with all aspects of ourselves.

Sounds good, so where do we start?  

So all this sounds really exciting and you’d like to play.   Start by thinking about the common themes running through your hottest, most forbidden fantasies.  The ones you hardly dare think about unless you are so aroused you are about to cum.   There will likely be lots of different scenarios you enjoy.  Take notice of what the underlying themes are.  What common ingredient makes it hot for you again and again no matter what shape the fantasy takes?   Break that down so you can clearly communicate it and consent to it, agreeing to safewords and after-care.

hand shakeConsent, Negotiation and Safe words

Humiliation is a volatile fantasy to play with.  It has to be very carefully discussed and consented to before hand because one person’s turn on is the next person’s traumatic experience.  I can’t emphasis enough how important it is to discuss a potential humiliation scene thoroughly and work out exactly what hits the hot buttons and which ones hit the genuine ouch buttons.   It is important for all parties involved to consent to certain activities, attitudes and understand the vibe of the individual player’s core erotic theme.  

No matter how much you plan, there is always a certain amount of risk in these kinds of games.  I get my play partners to actively acknowledge that risk and take self-responsibility for it.  Having a plan for if things go awry is really useful.    We agree to a safe word that can stop our play at any time if needed.  I ask my play partners not to use the safe word willy-nilly but to take three long, slow breaths before using it.  If they still need to use, it, go for it but make sure they need to.  Life isn’t all nice kittens and pie and sometimes the most challenging parts of the play turn out, in hindsight, to be what really gave it power.

My most immediate psychological “first aid” tool for if my play partner or I becomes triggered is to focus on breathing.   When an unexpected surge of emotion rises in us, as it sometimes does when working with erotic alchemy,  I get the person to focus completely on their breath.  Counting with them and guiding them to breath very slowly and fully.. letting the air fall all the way out before taking the next breath.   Doing this for ten breaths is often enough to shift the burst of emotive energy  to be able to talk about it and feel into what needs to happen next.  If what needs to happen is beyond my scope, I have the numbers of highly respected, kink-friendly counsellors and psychotherapists handy.

It’s also important to discuss after-care.  Even if my play partner is grinning from ear to ear at the end of our session, aftercare may be needed to bring things full circle.   It is good to discuss with the person what they need to reassure them they are a respected, valuable human being.  For some people suddenly becoming all nurturing at the end of the session would burst the bubble for them but for others, it is essential or they will feel weepy and empty for days.  There are no fixed rules so communication and risk aware experimentation is key.    Quite often a blanket, a cup of tea and a chance to de-brief about the experience is enough.

If your play partner is not experienced, it may help to seek out someone in the kink and/or tantra scene who is who can help you work it out.   The local kink scene often runs workshops and skill shares.  Or else you can book in for a professional session with a dominatrix or switch. Some professionals approach their play more consciously than others so ask questions until you find the right fit.  Many kink professionals are happy to see couples and guide them into a play session together.  

If you are looking to specifically learn the skills to take humiliation into the realm of conscious play as part of your personal journey into great self-awareness, personal transformation, discovery and alignment then there are people listed on my website who work in those areas offering everytign from counselling, workshops, and play sessions.   There is a book list on the resources section of my website.   You are also welcome to sign up to my mailing list to keep an eye out for upcoming workshops or book in for a personalised consultation or play session.  Skype sessions consultations available.  

Most of all, remember that while this kind of play can push boundaries and be challenging, it is also lots and lots of  fun and one hell of an adventure!   Good luck on your quest to discover even more of your inner world and get off in the process.  Yay for the paradox of holy smut!

 – Artemisia de Vine: Goddess of Conscious Kink

 

All material on this blog is copyright and the property of Artemisia de Vine.   

Oct 122013
 

vintage spanking 3I am a spanking enthusiast based in Sydney, Australia.  I thoroughly enjoy the role of spanker and spankee.  There doesn’t appear to be much of a traditional spanking scene in Australia and I intend to remedy that with my fabulous spanking enthusiast colleagues.

There is something truly, wickedly divine about a spanking.  I simply adore being both a spanker and a spankee.  I love everything about it.  The nervous anticipation… the playfulness… the sternness… the lovely floaty trance inducing rhythmic spanking… and the shock of the harsh punishment spankings… paddles… canes… taws… hand spanking… OTK (over the knee) and more.   I love the red, tender welts that serve as a reminder…  The embarrassment of being put-in-line… The thrill of exploring power over each other.

Each spanking session has its own flavor but there are a few that stand out as worth mentioning.

One of my favorite playmates and I really enjoy exploring the role play of boss who has caught his secretary stealing from petty cash… She can be fired or she can save her job and take a sound spanking followed by six of the best cane strokes.   Blushing and protesting she bends over his knee for a long hand spanking… Skirts hiked up and panties down…  The humiliation of it is quite delicious.  Then, when she is thoroughly warmed up, she is striped naked and made to bend over the desk to take the paddle, strap and finally the cane.  It is an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.

Vintage-Spanking-Image 6However when this is done, the secretary realises that actually the boss has been embezzling money which is a far worse crime.  She uses this information to turn the tables on him in a sizzling scene where she gives far more punishment than she gets and won’t stop until she gets a pay rise.   Oh boy does the boss regret his earlier degradation of her as he is forced to take everything she dishes out or be publicly outed and possibly face jail time.   It is a terribly fun game of humiliation and revenge, giggles and banter and squeals as cane bites flesh.
Another favorite is playing card games or board games like snakes and ladders.  Who ever loses gets the next spanking.   School student being disciplined in the principle’s office is another fun game…  Over the chair, touch your toes… Thwack, thwack, thwack!

Here is a tale I wrote out about Paul who is disciplined by his sister-in-law for not appreciating his wife.  Hope you enjoy it!

However, on occasion I do not want any role play at all.  I simply want to float in the genuine pleasure of a rhythmic spanking.   Spanking can actually be used beautifully with tantric techniques to induce an erotic, ecstatic trance.   People have been using pleasure and pain for centuries to carry them into altered states of consciousness for pleasure, ordeal initiations and for spiritual experiences.
I have loved spanking for as long as I can remember.  It is a personal passion.   I think the English tradition of the spankee is truly fabulous and aim to bring something similar to Sydney.  I also plan on exploring a few non traditional ways of exploring too.  As well as my professional sessions, I dream of having spanking parties and events.  I am seriously considering making a few spanking clips in future so stay tuned.  Perhaps even drop me a line to suggest a favorite spanking scenario.