Aug 022018
 

I am Sydney-based Pro Domme, Mistress Artemisia de Vine and this piece of BDSM fiction is based on My real training sessions with submissives.

It contains: small cock humiliation, ball busting, cock and ball torture, CBT, human toilet, golden showers, discipline, femme Domme, female supremacy, 
corporate, blackmail, electro play,  anal play including pegging, strap-on & a butt plug.

If you enjoy it, drop Me a line to let Me know. Or better yet, book a session and be assessed for the kind of submissive training most suitable for you. 

Without further ado…

His tongue tip was touching the seat of the ceramic toilet bowl and his body shook with the effort of keeping it there. Just the tip mind. He was doing his best to obey only as much as he had to. It was humiliating enough to be in this position and he was quite revolted at this task.

He swallowed awkwardly trying to keep himself from drooling. He had resigned himself to the slow dripping sweat that relentlessly slid down his face. He was helpless to do anything about it with his hands expertly tied behind his back and his neck collar fastened around the toilet base, but at least he could try to keep the drool at bay. 

He was nervous of course.  Who wouldn’t be?  His knees ached from kneeling on the cold tiled floor. His eyes traced the black and white pattern for what must have been the millionth time… or the hundredth… who could tell?  Time had slowed and then sped up in such unfathomable ways since he had entered The deVinery.  He had no way of knowing how long he had been prostrate before that porcelain throne.

The blinking camera was facing him.  Was She watching him right now? He had no way of knowing.  He had risked taking a quick break once but the all-encompassing electric shock that coursed through his anal plug quickly had him collapsed in involuntarily convulsions, begging for forgiveness. He didn’t try that again.

So yes, he was nervous… afraid even… but he was also strangely calm.  It was a difficult state to describe.  Right now all he had to do was obey.  It took him all his strength to follow the cruel instructions but there was nothing else at all on his mind.  Just obey Mistress Artemisia, no matter what. There was a kind of peace that came with that. The outside world, the city of Sydney that was normally so familiar to him, was a long forgotten dream. He did not feel like he was even on the same planet anymore.

“Arch your back prettily for me slave,” came the deceptively soft voice of Mistress Artemisia, an elegantly perverted lady, ripe with power. 

He jumped. How long had She been standing there?  He hadn’t heard Her enter the bathroom at all.

“I said arch your back, pretty boy.  Present your rear to Me like a pussssy cat on heat,”  She purred with lazy amusement and sauntered into the bathroom.  He immediately strained to comply. 

“Not quite right,” She laughed and grasped both hips, pulling them upwards, rearranging him into a position She found satisfactory. She forced his knees further apart with Her stocking clad foot and then tilted his pelvis so his buttocks parted and his plug-filled anus was fully exposed.  

She pressed against him as She moved him into place.  He could feel something hard between them. What was that? He had no time to focus on working it out.

Her fingers massaged around the butt plug and worked it out of his aching hole. It was a relief to have it gone. 

“I want you in a position that suggests complete availability for My use, do you understand?  After all, do you remember what got you into this mess in the first place?”

“Yes Mistress,” he groaned. 

“What was it you had said about your work colleague again? Remind me?”

“I am sorry Mistress I didn’t mean it!  I am sorry!  It was just locker room talk.  Boys will be boys.  You know it is all a load of bravado.” 

“Tutt tutt, it is a bit late for contrition now poppet” said Mistress running a slow deliberate fingernail from the base of his spine, all the way to the nape of his neck. What was it you said about her again?” Mistress’ voice remained calm but Her grip tightened around the back of his neck.

“I sa… I said… I said that I’d like to ben.. bend her over and give her my fat one until she changed her attitude,”  confessed the miserable slave.  Having to say it out loud to a woman made the banter seem so utterly ridiculous.  Why had he said it?

“Did you now?  Just how fat was this “fat one” I wonder?  “As fat as this?”  With that, Mistress Artemisia firmly grabbed his hair and yanked his head back so he was forced to be eye to eye with a monstrous, shiny black strap-on dildo complete with ball sacks.

“Not that big Mistress!  I couldn’t possibly!!!” 

Ignoring his protests completely, Mistress slapped his face hard and shoved the dildo decisively into his drooling mouth. As he gasped for air she slid it all the way back to his throat. His eyes watered and he spluttered and gagged pathetically.

“You are lucky my dear boy,” She said dispassionately staring down while holding his struggling head in place, “You are lucky that you work for such an unusually progressive firm.  When your boss became aware that you had been caught saying such disrespectful rubbish about women in your “locker room talk” she could have fired you in disgrace, never to work in the industry again.  There goes your expensive university degree… However, luckily for you, she gave you another chance. She had a quiet word with the head of HR and they decided to send you to Me, a Femme Domme Disciplinarian and trainer of wayward men.  Your future in this whole industry depends on My report.” 

With that Mistress Artemisia pulled the dildo out of his mouth and let his teary, mess of a face gulp air. He looked up at her in desperation. 

“That was kind of her wasn’t it poppet,”  purred Mistress.  Her sensual femininity an alarming contrast to Her cruel actions. 

“Yes Mistress,” he stammered. 

“You want a good report don’t you?” She cooed.

“Yes Mistress, please I can’t afford to be fired… I will do anything…”

“As you know, when you use your tongue to speak that sort of filth, all your tongue becomes good for is filth isn’t it?” 

“Ye yeas Mistress.”  slave replied miserably. 

With that Mistress shoved his head right inside the toilet bowl and ordered him to keep his tongue in contact with the side… this time on the inside… He shuddered with revulsion and paused only a second before realising he had no option but to comply.  His boss was going to review the footage of this training and assess his willingness to change, before making her final decision on his future at the company.

He flushed crimson with the utter humiliation of it, but he was completely controlled and owned by these women now.  They had him backed into a corner. 

“I want you to lick, nice big, enthusiast licks all around the inside of the bowl.  Never let your tongue leave the surface.  I want every inch of the inside of the toilet bowl licked clean, is that clear?” 

He gagged again and licked tentatively with the tip of his tongue.

“You can do better than that slave.  Use the flat of your filthy tongue. Nice big licks. I want to hear lovely big slurping sounds slave,” said Mistress as She moved behind him again, slapping his rump hard. 

“Moan like you are supping on the most delicious delicacy… Lovely porn star moans…. Let me hear just how grateful you are for this reprogramming your boss has invested in.  A professional like Me doesn’t come cheap you know!  And don’t forget to arch your back prettily.  After all, if you are going to objectify your female colleagues, you should learn exactly what that feels like shouldn’t you?” 

With that She leaned down and grasped his cock and balls and yanked them back towards her roughly.  Slave squealed and lost contact with the toilet bowl.  Despite himself, he hardened to Her  touch.

“So easily distracted aren’t you! I thought I said to keep your tongue in contact with the inside of the toilet bowl at all times slave? She tightened her grip on his balls and dug her fingernails in. “Get. your. tongue. back. on. that. bowl. boy.”  Each word was a staccato command.

His body tensed involuntarily and he grunted in pain but it was only a second or two before his tongue was back studiously licking that bowl, this time with more enthusiasm.  He was confused by the mixture of disgust, pain, embarrassment and arousal he felt.

“That’s better boy.  I find most men just need the right motivation to learn their place,” said Mistress Artemisia as She relaxed her grip and stroked his balls almost sensually.  She peered at them and commented, “Such little sacks of skin, just little olive pips and yet they are responsible for so much trouble….  and this!” She said picking up his cock with a thumb and forefinger, a look of distaste wrinkling her pretty features.  “THIS little thing is the “fat one” you were threatening to “give” your femme co-worker?”  She mocked incredulously.  This little gherkin is hardly a match for mine now is it? 

“Nooo Missthress” came the muffled reply. 

“Since this is the thing that you used as the symbol of domination against the woman at your work, this will be the thing we punish today slave.” 

Without further warning she slammed her knee into his exposed balls. 

The world went white and he could not think at all.  The sick feeling in his stomach lurched him forward face into the water at the bottom of the toilet bowl.  His open mouth gulped in toilet water and he spluttered in shock. 

As he came to enough for the room to take shape again, all he could hear was the tinkling sound of Mistress laughing.  For some reason, this made his erection harder than he could ever remember.  He was miserable and humiliated and yet… his body betrayed him and desired this treatment. 

Mistress noticed.  “I see you are beginning to respond to your training slave.  You are beginning to learn your place.  You belong on your knees being grateful to lick the toilet women use, don’t you?”

His head rushed with indignation but his body was so turned on he felt possessed by Her.  “Yes Mistress, I’m only worthy to lick up your waste.”

“Keep licking then slave,” she said moving back around towards his head. “I am a firm believer in female supremacy the way your body is responding to being put in your rightful place is proof that this should be the natural order of things.  You men are controlled by your sexual desires.  If I control the cock, I control the man.”

She  stopped talking and straddled the toilet bowl above his head. and slid a finger under the elastic of Her knickers, pulling them aside. 

“Big keen licks now slave,” She murmured as She began to piss her golden nectar all over his head where it trickled down into the toilet bowl. It was warm and potent smelling. Her scent overwhelmed him.  He was revolted and excited all at once. There was something primal and pheromone driven about it. 

“Lick it all up.” She said in a calm tone that brooked no objection. She was a woman used to being obeyed.

He lapped at Her warm golden shower, as it coated the inside of the toilet bowl. “Oh god!” he thought, if the boys at work could see me now! They’d never respect me again, and she’s filming this whole thing! I’m nothing but a pig at a trough, lapping up Mistress’ piss…. and worse still, I like it!”

“Filthy little slut!” murmured Mistress amused, as though She had read his mind. “I will teach you to crave that scent… that taste… you will only ever want to lap up the urine I bless you with. No one else’s opinions will matter to you again. I’ll keep you chained here with no water.  The only way to be hydrated will be to drink my nectar and the toilet water. Once you are trained to love it, you will do anything I say in order to be allowed a taste.

She continued, “I am sure your boss will be most gratified to see that change in you slave but you really are only at the beginning of your training.  By the time I am done with you, you will be eagerly obeying all the women in the office, showing utmost consideration.  You will literally worship the ground they walk on… but first I need to break you before I re-make you.”

She unstraddled him and walked behind him, grasping both hips with Her hands. 

“Drink deeply boy!” She said as the slid the huge dildo into his stretched asshole and thrust hard.  His face was pushed deep into the piss-filled water at the bottom of the toilet and he spluttered and gulped it in, unable to stop himself from swallowing.  

“And now, little whore, I will bend you over and give you My “fat one” until you know your place…” smirked Mistress as She pounded without mercy.  He could do nothing but submit to his fate.

If you enjoyed this smut, you may also enjoy this piece I wrote about a real life maid training scene. or this one where I deliver devastating torment to my slave

To be alerted when Mistress writes more smut or tours to a city near you, join Her mailing list, follow Her on twitter

Sydney Dominatrix Artemisia de Vine

Mistress Artemisia is a real life, Professional Dominatrix in Sydney, Australia. She specialises in in-depth journeys into Domination and submission and enjoys the wide variety of expressions and flavours this can take.  From sensually intimate to cruel and sadistic… She is always in complete control.

Most of Her submissives submit to ongoing training that builds on previous sessions but She does welcome one-off explorers too. However slaves, subs and pets that resonate with Her style, often end up serving Her for years and together they explore the infinite possibilities of the erotic psyche.  There is a whole universe in within…  

See more at devinekink.com

 

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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