Imagine you were a regular client of a Michelin starred restaurant. Perhaps you visit once a month, dropping a few hundred pounds on expense account meals. Would you expect the chef to spend time between your visits chatting about the food you’d eaten, the menu, what you might be looking for on your next visit?… Read More »
All my sessions as a submissive contain at least some element of Corporal Punishment (CP) and it is frequently the culmination, the “main event,” of the scene we play out. However, only rarely do I have a session made up exclusively of this one kink.
Last week I booked into a hotel room, lay on the bed and waited for an unknown Mistress. My earlier Sinful Sunday post described the unnatural stillness of the moments before and after the beating she gave me. As happens sometimes, it’s taken me a while for me to rationalise my responses to the session itself.
“Get back here, you!” called the gaoler, as she neared the relative safety of the hallway, her bottom sore from the impact of his hand through the thin cotton of her bloomers. Her friend was already there, shaking in fear against the cold stone wall. “You didn’t think that was your punishment did you? HaHaHa! That… Read More »
Entering the hallway, I’m pleased to see Lilly’s stood exactly as I instructed, hands at shoulder height against the wall, her bag on the floor. She’s followed my other instructions: a dress that will slip off easily, little make up, simple hair. Good girl. I slip an eye mask over her head, tightening the Velcro;… Read More »
At the end of our hot judicial caning scene we played around taking pictures. Elita said she wanted to try a slow motion video. Elita and her man, who had been doing the caning, fiddled with the camera for a while getting it set up. Then they lined up the shot.
There’s a place I go when I’m beaten, a place deep inside myself, a refuge. There’s a sense of quite deliberately diving down to it early in the session. I allow my sense of where I am and who I am with to diminish, focussing only on the waves of sensation, becoming utterly absorbed in… Read More »
I hope my head will be in the right place for this next session. It certainly bloody needs to be. How I come out of a session very much depends on how I go into it; the experience can be cathartic and life affirming if I start from the right place, or negative and self-harming if I… Read More »
A visitor once described London as a great party you’re not invited to, full of secret, niche things down side-alleys that you’d never know about if you didn’t know someone who knows someone. On Thursday, for example, shoppers at a busy street market were walking backwards and forwards over a glass pavement, under which this… Read More »
A while ago I arranged to meet Miss S, the lovely Lilly Watson*, at rental dungeon Better Than a Bed, sadly no longer available. We had had such fun there previously and I looked forward to continuing our exploration of bondage, submission and sadomasochism in the well equipped play space and of course especially looked forward to… Read More »
My image this week comes from my first meeting with Miss Hunter. She introduced me to the Tawse, the feared instrument of punishment in Scottish Schools until it was banned in 1987.
I’m stood in the shade, only 100 metres from the rental dungeon in central London where we are due to meet. My heart’s running at about twice it’s normal rate, pumping liberal doses of adrenaline around my body. My mouth is dry, my breathing shallow. I curse myself for arriving too early, feeling I must look suspicious, a… Read More »