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.

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
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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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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!”

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 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.