Why “Vile” Breast Training instead of just letting a slave suck my nipples? It just wouldn’t be me if I didn’t look at every fetish with an upside-down, completely different point of view, would it? My warning as always, remains the same: vanilla slaves who want easy, fun, “Mommy makes me feel good” experiences should leave now. If my slave actually loves or easily enjoys the fetish he craves, I am failing you as your Mistress. You’re not learning anything, you are simply being self-indulgent and I won’t stand for that, never have. This is my philosophy, always has been. a I do not deviate. Follow my path and it leads to an existential femdom experience unlike anything else … …
“Nursery of the Harvested” is a title that has me throwing shade at the boring nursery sessions I see floating around. Truly, is there no other Mistress who can think even a little outside-the-box? Why is this such a cookie-cutter industry? Soft lighting, frilly outfits, a Mistress cooing “who’s Mommy’s good little boy?” while the slave sucks on a pacifier and pretends he’s regressing into some adorable fantasy. Fuck that. Fuck vanilla. Fuck pretending. It’s Cute. Predictable. Vanilla BDSM at its finest. I haven’t done a proper nursery session yet … not the one that actually lives in my head … because the logistics are brutal. To make my version real I’d need ten to twelve submissive slaves, all of …
The Birth of Sofa Unit 01 ‘s premise asks, quite simply: What If Foot Worship Could Turn a Man Into My Sofa? What if foot worship could be … something more. Something way more. Not the usual slave on his knees pretending he is humiliated by sniffing soles and socks. Hell, you could drag a hundred girls into one room and order him to worship a thousand toes … he would just float away in bliss and call it paradise. For those of you who have been lucky enough to session with me … you know that the one thing I detest more than anything else is a slave thinking he is in paradise. “If you are enjoying it … …
The Extreme Ladyboy Gauntlet session – actually I should call it an experience rather than a session – was born from the original Ladyboy Gauntlet which happened late in 2019. Until now I’ve been a bit reluctant to write about the Extreme Ladyboy Gauntlet(s) as they happened many times during the covid lockdown time in our history and it was from arranging and watching those sessions unfold that caused this split-personality disorder I have been dealing with ever since. To be very clear, I don’t like arranging such extreme things for slaves to endure. I did it at the time because there were suddenly no femdom sessions to be had and it was on my shoulders to support my two …
True ball torture? Pfft. Most of what you see in the world’s definition of a “bdsm lifestyle” is a farce. It is a coordinated dance where the slave counts the strokes. One. Two. Three. “Oh thank you Mistress” or “Oh please Mistress, no more, I beg you.” ptttf. He feigns resistance while secretly reveling in the friction he paid for. It is a safety blanket. He knows the limits. He knows the script. He is essentially trying to masturbate with my hand as the instrument, play acting a struggle he ultimately controls because he is the customer. To which I have always said : screw that! That dynamic disgusts me. It is hollow. It is theater for children. My punishment …
I was so much more, before I arrived here. I was an explorer, a father, a priest. I was a soldier of God, at war with the devil itself. I was the very hand by which the human race perfected itself. So much faith I had. So much life experience. Now I cannot remember all the things I was. I can only remember that I once was them. I remember only this chair, though I admit, the chair at first excited me. It has since killed the soul of who I once was. , but a fragment of me has crawled from the wreckage of my old self: a few trillion cells, a soul too weak to keep them in …
I went to the city!!!! It turned out pretty much how I expected it to turn out. Allow me to explain how something everyone takes for granted always becomes an adventure for me. Note: I don’t have this problem at any type of shop, say like clothing stores, shoe ware stores, food vendors and so on. Its just banks and government offices that constantly trigger my anxiety something awful. Its important for me to continually step outside of my own self and analyze who i am and what triggers me from sort of a 3rd person perspective as doing so helps me understand the kind of girl I am and how to best adapt and live with not only myself, …
Mind Control Physics: For the full multimedia experience … including the specific videos and atmospheric photos that accompany this narrative … I highly recommend reading this post on my Fanvue profile. However, if you prefer the text-only version, you are welcome to read on right here. This story exists solely because my followers on Scatbook demanded to know the truth about the first time I utilized mentalism and hypnotic suggestion to bypass a subject’s conscious resistance. You wanted to know what happened … so here is the physics of how it was done. See my gallery page for how I look these days, I just got the photos optimized so the page loads quickly now. Ok, enjoy the read 🙂 …
Beneath My Words: Finding Sanctuary I need love in my life so much. I am trying to ignore the instant phone calls from Mars to Earth, and the love stories in each episode of Away are allowing me to dismiss the impossible. Barely. I wish I had someone to love like the Chinese ladies loved one another in episode three. More so, I wish I had just one family member—any of them—who’d love me as much as the younger Indian brother loved his older brother and laid his life down for him. I had to pause a bit before watching episode 5 because here I am at 10:30 PM curled up like a ball on my bed, having cried into …
From Fake Acting to Final Breath – How Jiu-Jitsu Turned My Face Sitting Sessions Into the Ultimate Test of Submission Face sitting, when I first started as a Mistress 11 years ago, was just me copying what Rainy and Jaa (Mistress Jaa v1 + v2) would do to address such a session. I’d simply plop myself on top of the very willing slave’s face and do a two-hour shimmy shake. He’d pretend to suffer, I’d pretend to laugh; two hours would pass, and he’d slip me the envelope with 7,000 baht inside and profess how great the session was. Was it? Really? “All that fake acting on both parts—is that what constitutes a ‘great session’?” I asked myself as a …
