Getting plastered

Domina Victoria Rage has an interesting post up about a scene she did involving a full plaster of Paris body cast.

For over an hour he held still, waiting patiently in near breathless anticipation as each layer was applied. I was happy to see how quickly it hardened into an ever expanding prison of white. As the minutes ticked by, more and more of him became enveloped and secured, he was stiffened, no movement in his feet or legs, his torso, arms or fingers…. just stillness. All that was left was his neck and his head, and he was SO eager for me to finish the job.
Inescapably Mine by Domina Victoria Rage

With his head and body fully encased she then goes on to do some breathplay, repeatedly cutting off his only lifeline to the outside world.

A few years ago I might have read that post and thought ‘So what?’ I lie still for hours at a time every night in the dark, and I can hold my breath. There’s no pain, so what’s the big deal? Now I’m a touch older and a touch wiser. There’s a big difference between choosing not to move and not being able to move. It takes considerable mental strength to give-up this kind of control for hours at a time.

I love breathplay and bondage, and I’d be fascinated to try this kind of scene out, but it would definitely stress me. There’s very little room for compromise or adaptation. There are no ropes to loosen or hoods to unzip. The submissive either immerses himself into it or the scene is broken. And if he does succumb to panic, it’s not going to be a particularly quick process to cut the plaster away. It takes a lot of trust on the part of the submissive and a very fine degree of judgement on the part of the dominant to pull this kind of thing off.

Domina Victoria Rage

Victoria Rage is a Seattle based pro-domme. You can visit her professional site here, and read the rest of her blog here.

Bittersweet

I’m continuing my vacation strategy of featuring alternative posts from blogs that I enjoy. In this case the victim lucky author is Femi with her post entitled Letter to a Masochist. It’s a bittersweet kind of post, that manages to be hot, creative and a touch melancholy.

I want to give you bruises that don’t fade for a week.
I want to think, “I hope the neighbors don’t call the cops.”
I want to rub my hand over your flesh that’s hot to the touch.
I want to be sore the next day from that much energy expended.
I want to be the answer to your needs.
I want this hypothetical you to exist, to find me, to say, “yes,” and “more,” and, “please.”
If I feel like I’ve waited a lifetime for you, it’s because I have. Already I feel jaded.
Come into existence for me.
FemiLetter to a Masochist

The first part is definitely hot, and the last part a little sad, but the line about the neighbors made me smile. I actually know of a Seattle couple that ‘soundproofed’ their basement before starting to crack the whip. Unfortunately the soundproofing wasn’t up the job and, in a moment of true genius, they hadn’t thought to check from the outside before getting their freak on. Sure enough, the neighbors called the cops. Doubly unfortunate for them was the fact that Seattle mandates that for domestic violence calls somebody is always taken away. I get the logic of that, but it doesn’t leave a lot of room for discretion. So despite protestations that it was all consensual and the screaming was just part of the fun, the husband ended up (temporarily) in the pokey. Everything worked out OK in the end, but I’ve got to imagine the subsequent conversations with the neighbors were a little embarrassing.

The two illustrative images I’ve chosen below are from Dana Kane, a professional disciplinarian based out of Las Vegas. Given Femi’s comments about bruising and hot flesh they seemed appropriate. They’re from this video sequence.

Dana Kane and Lexan paddle
Dana Kane and Lexan paddle

 

Lydiapox

I’d be the first to admit that the photographs I publish of my sessions are not the sexiest images featured here. That’s not to say the sessions themselves aren’t sexy. It’s just that the attractive woman in the interesting fetish gear is normally behind the camera, while the skinny naked English guy splays himself in front. It’s a little like this anecdote about George Enescu. All the elements are there, just not necessarily in the right arrangement.

However, all those previous scenes pale into insignificance compared to the aesthetics of one I did with Lydia recently. Even my response on seeing the photographs was – “Ewwwww. That’s cool. But ewwwww!” We were playing with saline injections under the skin, which created big swellings and bumps. From a headspace perspective it was amazing. It created a nice variation in pain, depending where the injections were, as well as a strong sense of objectification. There was the slow filling of the syringe, the little flick and squirt to clear the bubbles, the careful search for just the right place and then the rising pain as she pushed the needle home. Unfortunately, while masochistically interesting, aesthetically it left me looking like someone with a peculiar disease. I’ll share some links to photographs, but consider yourself warned!

For brave readers, this first shot shows both the nipples (which were injected multiple times) and the first few injections to the chest. The nipple injections made them very sensitive and pleasurable to touch. In contrast the injections in the centre of the chest and the sides of the torso were really tender and painful. This shot and this one show the actual injection process itself. The filling itself didn’t hurt too much, it was more the movement of the needle as Lydia squeezed the plunger that stung. Here’s an overhead shot take later in the session. It was surprising how quickly the saline would either leak or absorb, and Lydia had to go back to refill most of the spots. Finally, this shot and this one were taken right at the end, after Lydia had also pierced the nipples. Given their engorged and sensitive state that piercing was almost pleasurable and it cranked their sensitivity up another notch.

If you’re playing with someone who has had the relevant training, then I’d definitely recommend giving saline injections a go. It might look like you’ve got a dose of the pox, but the D/s dynamic it creates is a powerful one. And the swelling fades in just an hour or two.

It feels wrong to end the post with only shots of my bumpy torso. So as a kind of mental palette cleanser, here’s Lydia with a shot taken from her trip to OWK.

Lady Lydia at OWK

Indulging my fetishes

Posting may be a little erratic for the next few days as I take some time to indulge two of my favorite fetishes. Unfortunately there will not be any interesting photographs or scene descriptions resulting from this, as the fetishes in question are my love for interesting food and luxurious hotels. I’ve escaped the chill of Seattle for a little R&R in Vegas. It’s a fun place (for a brief stay), but not exactly a kinky mecca.

I’ll leave you with a picture featuring a slightly more traditional fetishistic focus. This is Domina Ai-Li, who I’ve played with and written about in the past. She’s based in San Francisco, which might lack the neon and showgirls of Vegas, but certainly puts it to shame when it comes to kink.

Domina Ai-Li

En Garde!

Maybe I’ve led too sheltered a kinky life, but I’ve never seen sword fighting crop up as a BDSM activity. Which is kind of odd now I come to think about it. It’s obviously a sexy look, as shown by Mistress Ultra Violet below. It crops up frequently in popular culture, for example the Bride in Kill Bill or Michelle Yeoh and Zhang Ziyi in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. And plenty of other fighting activities, such as wrestling, boxing and martial arts, have been adopted for kinky play.

Obviously real swords would be a problem. Nobody wants to end up with less limbs than they started with, unless they’re unfortunate enough to suffer from apotemnophilia. But there are plenty of practice swords that could be used, and I’m sure there must be some dommes out there who have done fencing or a relevant martial art. Just allow the submissive to only defend and not attack and you’ve got a fun new way to get beaten. Not to mention all the scope for some swashbuckling roleplay – Maid Marion getting her own back on the evil sheriff perhaps?

Mistress Ultra VioletI came across this image via a post on the Hogspy site.

A great example (of how not to do it)

I’ve often considered writing a submissive’s guide to organizing a first pro-domme session. Not that I’m any sort of expert, but I picture it as a letter to my younger self. The sort of article I wish I’d read when I was 21. Fortunately, I’m not sure I need to write it anymore. An article entitled ‘No, a dominatrix won’t have sex with you‘ pretty much provides the definitive guide. Just do exactly the opposite of whatever this guy does, and you should be OK.

Admittedly he didn’t initially realize she was a professional (in purely a taking the money sense of the word), but I don’t think it changes the basic message. For example, if she’s happy to meet you at 2am on the street and then mistakes you for her drug dealer, don’t do what this guy did and return to her apartment. Similarly, if the pre-scene discussion consists of her mentioning her boyfriend and then saying she’ll do it for free because you’re cute, that is not your cue to take your shirt off.

My favorite part of the whole thing was his last line – “The biggest lesson I took from this is one that I will carry to my grave: A dominatrix doesn’t have sex with you.” Really? That was your big learning point? A few others did spring to my mind. Add while that statement is generally true for pro-dommes in the US, for any random OKCupid date you meet collecting garbage on the street at 2am, I’d say all bets are off.

I’ll leave you with a picture of a real pro-domme having fun with her ‘boy toy’. This is Ms Mona Rogers, a genuine professional (in all senses of that word) from NYC.

Mona Rogers doing sensation play

Lessons learnt

During my web wanderings over the weekend I came across this insightful post from Mitsu entitled “Lessons I learned as a dominatrix: 10 things that don’t exist.” It’s a thoughtful list and any one of her points could have formed the basis for a follow-up post. However, I’m going to pick the first item on it: There’s no such thing as intimacy without vulnerability.

Sometimes, a client would come to session with me with his heart set on having the amazing kinky experience he’d always dreamed of, but it would end up disappointing because of something I had no control over: the walls wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t be able to communicate specifically what he really wanted. He wouldn’t be able to let go, of his ego perhaps, and let the scene happen.
Mitsu

As Mitsu goes onto say, this need for vulnerability and lowering your guard is a key part of any intimate relationship, not just a BDSM one. It’s something that rarely gets addressed directly. People come at obliquely, talking about sharing, trust or communication. But the heart of it, something necessary for all those things, is taking a risk and making yourself vulnerable.

The interesting thing I’ve found about doing BDSM scenes is that they can be a two way street when it comes to vulnerability. It’s necessary to let go to make them work, but the scenes themselves can also help you to do that. Pain and psychological stress can put a lot of pressure on any cracks the submissive wants to expose in their personal walls. It’s hard for the ego and super-ego to do their stuff when basic fight-or-flight impulses are ruling the roost.

One of the most powerful moments in any of my scenes came at a moment when I was feeling supremely vulnerable. I’d been in a bondage chair for a couple of hours, watching Lydia at close range, face to face, as she tortured me. I was bound but exposed, pushed deep into sub-space as she caned my inner thighs, applied clamps and zapped me with electricity. Towards the end she applied a number of viciously sharp clips across my body and then stepped back to watch as I struggled to breath through the pain. My thought process was long gone, there was really no me there, just a lot of pain and Lydia. As I stared up at her she came to me and gave me a gentle hug. It was a beautiful moment, comforting and reassuring, and I emotionally dissolved in her arms. Then, still holding me, she slid her body along mine, dragging the clips back and forth. I just about died. That little moment of vulnerability and intimacy combined with the sudden savage pain of the moving clips still gives me a shiver when I think of it today.

IntimacyImage of intimacy was found on the Girls Rule, Subs Drool tumblr.

Three days of brutality

Yesterday’s post cautioned against perceiving extreme scenes and edge players as being ‘better’ than others. Today’s post brings you a compelling description of a very extreme scene featuring an astonishing level of masochism. Possibly this lacks consistency, but as Ralph Waldo Emerson said: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds”.

It is true that the quality and the pleasure associated with a BDSM scene has no direct relationship to the severity of the scene. But for the audience in the peanut gallery, extreme behavior is often a compelling draw. In this case the scene is a three day long one, described at length in this post.

The following days were repeated … a pattern of freezing nights in the bunker, ice cold showers in the morning, sessions of brutal torture, beatings, and electrocution. Verbal abuse and no hope of mercy.
stevey from a post on Max Fisch

I found it a fascinating read, although it’s not something I’d ever want to do. I need a little love and care mixed in with my pain, and it sounds like there wasn’t much of that on offer.

The domme dishing out the pain was Madame Celeste de Monial and the scene unfolded at the Chalet of Pain located in Germany. As stevey describes, the location sounds like a smaller version of the infamous OWK. If your tastes run to iron fetters, imprisonment fantasies and serious mental and physical torment, then it sounds like a great place to check out. The image below shows the inside of its underground bunker, and you can see the entrance and descending stairs in this gallery.

Underground bunker at Chalet of Pain

When anything goes

Mistress T has an interesting and instructive post up about negotiating a scene. Her key point is that a submissive saying he’ll do ‘anything’ the domme wants is both useless and highly unlikely to be true.

My go-to (smart-ass) answer these days if they say they’re into anything that will make me happy is: “Great. You do the house work while I watch TV in my PJ’s and ignore you. Just leave the money on the counter.”

Her point is an excellent one but from the submissive point of view, it does touch on a real point of dilemma. How do you negotiate a scene without making it feel like you’re ordering from a restaurant menu? I’ve done scenes with new dommes where I’ve an expressed interest in X, Y and Z, and ended up with 40 minutes of each in that order. Pro-dommes typically complain when clients get very specific about scripting a scene and controlling how it should unfold.  But the reverse situation also applies. I don’t want to feel I’m controlling exactly what the domme does.

Mistress T goes onto to suggest that of the 120 fetishes she has listed, the number of things a random submissive would hate is far longer than the list of things they’d like. I’m not sure about that. I don’t have access to her list, but I know of other examples from domme’s I’ve played with. For example, Domina Yuki’s and Lady Lydia’s. They both have 50 or so activities listed. Of those there are probably 2 or 3 that are hard limits for me and a couple of things that I’d do but aren’t particular interesting to me. The other 40+ things are all just dandy as far as I’m concerned, and I’ve done almost all of them at some point. Yet, in my experience, negotiating a very open scene based on 40 potential activities really doesn’t work well. Most domme’s tend to classify you as one of those ‘anything but not really’ guys, and assume you’re going to be unhappy when reality sets in.

I don’t have any great answers to this problem. The best advice I can give is to slowly build trust by doing multiple sessions, each featuring a limited number of different activities. Once you’ve built chemistry with someone and demonstrated a genuine breadth of interest, you’re more likely to be able to transition into a more natural and free-form dynamic. When I play with Lydia these days I suggest only a single idea as a possible direction and let her improvise from that point on. She knows by now that I’m open to a lot of different activities, and don’t have a fixed idea of how a scene should play out. I think last time I simply suggested something involving bondage on her bed, and ended up trapped in much rope, sporting an electrified butt-plug, with several piercings, many scratch marks and a plastic wrapped face.

Mistress T and Amica BentleyI’ll leave you with an image of Mistress T and Amica Bentley, originally from The English Mansion that I found on Mistress T’s blog. I suspect for a lot of the ‘anything you want’ guys this particular activity is likely to transition into a ‘but not that’ response.

Stereotypes of submission

A post by Ms Justine Cross pointed me at this interesting article on Salon by Tracy Clark-Flory. The article was written in response to one by Katie Roiphe in Newsweek suggesting that women are newly interested in submission because of the greater power and equality they’re experiencing in the workplace. The original Newsweek article stuck me as particularly muddleheaded and I’m glad to see someone pointing that out. However, in the process it does recycle an old stereotype that always annoys me. Namely that male submissives and masochists are typically powerful and successful career people who need to submit in order to take a break from all the high pressure decisions they normally have to take. It’s the cliche of the aggressive lawyer who spends all morning shouting at staff and his lunchtime wearing pink panties and getting caned.

It’s a point of view often heard from pro-dommes (as Ms Cross also mentions in her post), typically meant to describe their clients, but often applied generally to describe male submissives. And I get why pro-dommes say this. It’s a pre-emptive strike against the assumption that their clients (and by association themselves) are weird or misfits in society. Their clients aren’t just average they’re saying, they’re better than average, taken from the winners in society. But understanding it doesn’t stop it annoying me on several different levels.

Firstly, pro-domme clients are a self-selecting group, not a random sample. Seeing a pro-domme regularly costs thousands of dollars. Men who can afford this are certainly not a representative cross-section of society. Secondly, it’s not something I see discussed in non-professional circles. I’ve never seen someone write “My husband used to just want regular sex, but since he got that promotion suddenly he’s insisting I chain him up and pee on him. I like the extra income but I’ve had to spend half of it on leather outfits and a snorkel set”. Thirdly, a lot of kinky people can trace their preferences back to childhood or adolescence. Which means it’s completely unrelated to profession or success, unless you happen to have been a 13 year old investment banker.

Finally, and perhaps most annoying of all, is the implication that only powerful successful people (lawyers doctors, brokers, etc.) have stressful and high pressure decisions to take. Everyone has to deal with those kind of issues in their lives. In fact I’d say trying to bring up a family while working an underpaid job is going to involve a whole lot more stress and pressure than a rich, pro-domme visiting executive has to deal with.

The truth is that kinky people come from all walks of life. There’s nothing particularly special about having an interest in BDSM. Or at least no more so than all the interesting and quirky factors that go into making us who we are.

Given my original prompt for this post was Ms Justine Cross, that seems like a perfect excuse to feature a picture of the lovely lady in question.

Ms Justine Cross