Nov 012014
 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes Mistress”

“Good boy”

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

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

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

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

No words, just moaning…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes Mistress, please fuck me Mistress”.

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

“Yes Mistress”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then the burning began…

He became confused as his pleasure turned to intensity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Website: www.consciouskink.com
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Sep 272014
 

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yes.’

‘Yes who?‘

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

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

‘Yes Ma’am‘  he said dismayed.

‘Good boy’.

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

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

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

I paused to let that sink in.

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

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

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

Paul shifted his weight slightly but did not comment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Good.  Now what else have you learned?’

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

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

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

Paul groaned.  ‘I can’t!’ he said.

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

There was silence as he considered this.

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

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

Eventually he found them and presented them to me.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yes Ma’am,‘ he gulped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sep 272014
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just stood there silently.

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

‘Thank you,‘  he mumbled.

‘Thank you who?‘ I asked?

He just looked confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yes.’

‘Yes who?‘  I purred dangerously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One… then two rings…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Ok, now for round two’.

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

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

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

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

Five more seconds… 4… 3… 2… 1…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Ah no, I guess not’.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul shifted nervously, still awkwardly draped across my lap.

‘1. Laziness at home.

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

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

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

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

9…. 8… 7…

Paul grunted with each solid thwack.

6… 5… 4…

I had to really hold him still now…

3… 2… 1…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SEE PART TWO HERE…

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

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

Sep 082014
 

Artemisia nude submissive CKThe truth is, life is hard. Keeping busy and fucking casually for our dopamine hit is just another numbing drug. It doesn’t work. Another distraction… The core self will feel the misalignment… The lack of meaning and purpose… We just keep finding more extreme sexual conquests and activities to keep the pain stuffed in its box.

I can’t play that game.

My invitation as a BDSM specialist, as a whore… and as a lover… is to open deeply, bravely, richly to all that is. My role is guide and playmate in engaging with sexuality, from the sensual to the kinky, as a means of exploration not escapism. Peeling back the masks and layers… Discovery of self, of each other… Of this whole damn, wonderfully messy, being alive business… We can use our sexuality to create something beautiful and meaningful.

That’s my offering to the world and the only thing I can see worth dedicating myself to.  If this resonates with you I invite you to come sexplore with me.

HeelsAbout the author:  Artemisia de Vine is a practitioner of the Conscious Erotic Arts and has a greedy appreciation for the full spectrum of human sexuality, from the sensual to the kinky.  She specialises in Conscious Kink and BDSM but is also very well known for her conscious sexuality, erotic massage and escort sessions.

For BDSM and kink sessions see here.

For Conscious sexuality, erotic massage, escort sessions see here.

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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!”

Nov 092013
 

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

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

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

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

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

shadow04Erotic Shadows

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

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

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

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

portal spaceSexual Fantasy as Portal to the Unconscious

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

knickersSissy Sluts as an Example of Erotic Shadow 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

erotic themesPersonal Core Erotic Themes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

barbed candleConscious Kink as a Spiritual Path 

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

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

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

Sounds good, so where do we start?  

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

hand shakeConsent, Negotiation and Safe words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 – Artemisia de Vine: Goddess of Conscious Kink

 

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

Oct 122013
 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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