I’d seen these little bastards before, two years ago with an American Mistress. She’d made me keep them on my nipples for 10 seconds the first time, let me recover then replaced them for 20 seconds. So when Elita produced the new toys she had promised me, I instantly lost control of my heart rate and… Read More »
My earliest lesson on the importance of safewords was a harsh one. In my very first session with a professional Mistress, and with no experience whatsoever, the physical and emotional shock of her assault on me was so great that I blanked the safeword, forgot even that I had given her a safeword before the… Read More »
To be slapped on the face is always a shock, even if I know it’s coming: the sharp sting; the way my head turns with the force; how it makes my eyes water. I can dissociate from a blow anywhere else, thinking “it’s only some flesh and skin that’s been hit,” but a blow on the face strikes ME. It’s personal, less a… Read More »
This chair is in our bedroom. It’s a very fine Chesterfield sofa. I have had a bit of a thing about this type of chair, ever since I was pushed over the arm of one and flogged. The Chesterfield could have been invented solely for this purpose; it could have been advertised with the tagline:… Read More »
In the second part of Lars von Trier’s epic sexploration film, Nymphomaniac, Jamie Bell’s character gives two ferocious beatings to Charlotte Gainsbourg; one with a riding crop, the second with a self made cat-o-nine-tails. She is tied down over the rolled arms of an ancient Chesterfield sofa for both punishments.