You may have seen some kink-in-the-wild in your Twitter feed recently.
Please have an understanding of consent in the public sphere before engaging in public humiliation. I have no issues with walking a human dog in public, but whipping someone? No. That is not ok. Ppl can be triggered by violence and not understanding that is some novice shit https://t.co/Lfjb0mpwe9
A photo went viral on Twitter yesterday of a ProDomme walking her human dog in a market. In the following tweets, she was described as “whipping” [sic] her human pup in the store.
Here’s a response article interviewing the Domme in question. I find this article a bit absurd (and not just because the writer calls a dungeon a “sex dungeon”). The article superficially discusses bystander consent and brings in the Domme’s perspective – that people are threatened when confronted with sexuality – and then proceeds to miss the entire point by wondering if those recording the two should have gotten the Domme/sub’s prior consent.
Here’s the thing: both D/s knew they were going to get attention by holding their public humiliation scene in a busy vanilla business; the exhibitionism was the point. Taking a viral photo of them was hence the zenith of that entire interaction, and positing about consent violations because of said photo is entirely redundant. The author, in trying to reverse the blame to the one sharing the photo, showed a poor understanding of what consent truly means here.
Sometimes there’s a thin line between people taking creep shots of someone who may stand out and people taking photos of an exhibitionist who wants their photos taken. This is not that thin line.
Now here’s the thing: I am all for public humiliation. I’ve also walked a human dog in public, played in front of vanilla bystanders, and have a bit of an exhibitionist streak myself. I am not kink shaming anybody, as somebody who regularly shits on men.
I am, however, disappointed in the lack of thought that went into this scene. Public play absolutely needs to be done in calculated ways. It’s one thing if it’s you and your slave in a private room. Do whatever the hell you two have consented to do. Go wild. Live out your deepest fantasies. But when you bring it out to public? Those acting out the scene need to be made aware that it is no longer just themselves in the scene. It’s now all the onlookers and bystanders.
Here are a couple of reasons why this scene had some consent violations and lack of foresight:
The scene took place in daytime at Erewhon, a popular and busy market in Los Angeles… AKA an all-ages vanilla store AKA a place where there could be children. In the article above, the Domme says “domination is something that shouldn’t be sexualized necessarily” – while this is true, it is still not a valid excuse to engage in these activities around underage people. What we do are adult activities, be that actions as innocuous as bootlicking or human furniture. These activities involve attraction, many of which are deeply rooted in our sexuality (whether or not they give us a boner). As BDSM professionals, we intrinsically understand that while sexuality can often be purely psychological with zero physical turn-on, it is still sexuality nonetheless. To argue that these activities shouldn’t always be sexualized is irrelevant to the point. We, as professionals, should not engage with or around minors in a scene, regardless of the content.
The scene involved corporal punishment. This is an absolute hard no with public play at all times. Domestic abuse is a real thing, and many people are triggered by it. Now listen, I am not the trigger-warning-police. I do a lot of reckless, violent shit that causes an immense amount of pain, and I say a lot of really fucked up, inconsiderate stuff that makes myself ashamed sometimes. Even I know that you shouldn’t beat someone in public. If you want a scene involving corporal punishment? Do it with consenting adult onlookers. Invite your friends over. Hire some other professionals. Don’t do this in public. This should be common sense.
The man is crawling around the ground in a professional establishment during COVID-19. First off, this is an inconvenience to those working here. It could impact how the employees handle the rest of their day: do they need to deep clean the floors afterwards? Will they need to make apologies to other customers? Will this affect who is on shift? Doing this scene in a business establishment where nobody has consented is inconsiderate. At best, the employees had a laugh. At worst, people’s livelihoods are at stake. Secondly, stores are already limited in the number of people allowed indoors due to the pandemic, and now this nice kinky couple have created more logistical issues by bringing their play into this establishment. The presence of a fully grown man on the floor affects the flow of customers in the building, and probably not in a productive way. Be respectful of the people working in an already very fraught economic climate. Finally, this is a market. Please act appropriately. I shouldn’t need to explain what appropriate behavior is as a goddamned Dominatrix who shits on men, but here we are. Would you allow your kids to do this in a supermarket? Then why would you as an adult do the same?
The location was a contained place that had zero audience consent. This is not a location that skews heavily towards people receptive to BDSM, and so I can guarantee you that many of the audience did not consent to this. Instead, these two chose an indoors location where people are trapped in the same place as them, making it difficult for those who didn’t consent to easily leave.
I’m not even going to go into how this is dangerous as a sex worker, because that’s not my business. Everybody can handle their own business with as much or as little risk as they want, and that’s on them.
I’m also not offended by the subject matter of the scene. People should be allowed to wear what they want, how they want, so long as it’s not hurting others (ie: no unconsensual nudity, hate crimes, etc.). I’ve walked fully slutted out crossdressers down the Hollywood strip at night and made gimps lick my boots in city streets while wearing full leather. Context is key here, however. Environment, location, and audience matter.
Would I be disappointed in this if it had happened in a sex store, the strip club, a dimly lit bar, or a deserted alleyway? Absolutely not. These are all locations that eliminate underage audiences, allow for consent to be asked (if not by context of the location then at least by tipping heavily), allow for a little bit of discretion and plausible deniability, and overall skew to a population that is a lot more accepting of these sorts of activities.
Hell, I wouldn’t even be mad at this if it were just the two of them calmly walking in the store, with him wearing a collar and her holding the leash while he quietly walked behind her (and there was no beating involved). Those limitations would make it innocuous enough where I would let it slide by. But it’s the combination of so many factors – the punishment, the crawling, the location, the timing – that make this entire scene poorly thought out.
And of course, this does no good to an already stigmatized community of sex workers and kinksters. This viral representation of Femdom contributes to a lack of understanding what we do as Professional Dominatrices. We should not engage in public scenes in this way because reckless play endangers everybody, from the active players in the scene to the bystanders, and finally to the ProDommes and kinksters who will now be typecast by someone’s ill-informed first impression. Unfortunately, many people may develop a distaste about Dominatrices now…though we were never going to sway their opinions either way.
Ultimately, I’m just another Dominatrix who gets more and more crotchety every year. You can do whatever the hell you want to do. Just know that what you do has an impact on those around you, especially when you choose to engage in a public sphere. This scene is no longer contained to just you and whomever you’re playing with. It is much more than that now. So please, for the love of Goddess, be more considerate about how you play in public.
Heads up: this is not a sexy post. This is a serious, somewhat depressing, political post. If you are not interested in this, then skip the hell out of reading this and go on to the next boner-inducing post.
I did an interview a little while back that got posted a month ago about censorship in Germany for Dominatrices, now added to my press page. You should take a read of it – it’s increasingly relevant information for all your favorite sluts. If you’ve been noticing a change in how your favorite German Dominatrices have been advertising, this is undoubtedly the reason why.
Dominatrices and sex workers as a whole are frequently censored. In fact, just the other week, my Instagram was removed for violating Terms of Service for the fourth time. I considered it sheer luck that I was able to have it restored the past three times, but this time around, I’m not holding my breath for it. Despite posting at best four times a year, I would get posts removed every single month for “nudity” or “sexual activity” – on posts that had no nudity or sexual activity. (Let’s not forget the nearly 100 fake accounts of me proliferating on Instagram currently still up!) It was emotionally exhausting, and each time I opened my Instagram (maybe every other week at best), I would feel the impending doom of anxiety. Was this the moment my account would finally be taken down for good?
So this time around, I’m not going to think about it. I spent over six years building up that Instagram account to nearly 70,000 followers, and I don’t think I have it in me to do it again. I’ve watched so many of my friends get their accounts removed left and right each time they started anew (Goddess Tangent most notably has gone through many accounts), and it honestly feels like a losing battle at a certain point.
My story is not particularly special or significant in any way. It’s just one of countless stories of sex workers (yes, I identify as a sex worker) being shut down left and right by a system that tries to control disenfranchised groups of people. Sex workers are constantly being discriminated against, and this is an uphill battle we fight every single day. Why are we being taken down when other Instagram accounts include equally salacious content (if not more so)? Why do celebrities get to post full nipple and our content gets removed for even having a shadow of a nipple through an opaque shirt?
So how can you make it better, fellow citizen? If you support your favorite Dominatrix, you should, by proxy, support sex work decriminalization. That is the only way this stigmatization will begin to end. Not legalization, not regulation – decriminalization so that our bodies are not fraught with political debate, and so that people will recognize what we, as sex workers, do as real work. (There are plenty of articles about why decriminalization is better than legalization/regulation, and I suggest you google them if you’re interested in understanding why.) If you enjoy what we do and partake in it, then support the continuation of sexy times by decriminalizing sex work.
This, of course, is part of a greater discussion of what it means to have authority over our own bodies, over who controls us and tells us what we can and can’t be, and how we can progress as people to do better. Disenfranchised groups are always the canaries in the coal mine. You may not see it coming, but we saw it first because it happened to us first.
This post is not particularly sexy, and I did not include photos in it for that reason. I am particularly incensed because Ruth Bader Ginsburg just passed away, and the future sovereignty of my body (as a queer POC sex worker) feels extra bleak today. 2020 has been a tough year for many people. In a time where our bodies are constantly being policed by those who do not inherently understand what is like to walk in our shoes, I am doing my best to stand up for what I can intrinsically understand – and that is for genuine equity for all groups of people.
So please, always be kind to your favorite slut and don’t forget to fight for their ability to survive in this world. ✊
It has officially been five months and four days since my last realtime BDSM session. 156 days outside of the dungeon. 3,746 hours (at the time of this writing) since my hand has been invading holes where it shouldn’t be. 224,762 minutes since I’ve made strange people from the internet regret their life choices. And so it goes.
Meanwhile, I’ve been having a great time dominating people from afar. Cyber domination is best suited for humiliation and worship-style activities, in my opinion, so I’ve rearranged my sadistic appetites to whet a more mental sort of domination. I’ve been exploring aspects of my personal style in Femdom that I hadn’t had as much time to focus on when I was previously kept so busy with realtime work.
Online work just hits differently, though (both metaphorically and physically). While I love the capabilities of controlling someone from afar, nothing is quite like walking up to a bitch, grabbing them unawares by the nads, pulling them down to your level, smothering your hands on their little bitch face while they moan and their pupils dilate in intimidation, smelling the scent of fear on their body…
All this time spent by myself has made me, a severe introvert, realize that I do indeed have some near-extroverted qualities that behoove me being around others (does making others cry count as an extroverted quality???). I keep on imagining how consensually PTSD-inducing that very first session will be on the eve of my return. Floodgates devastating the pastoral small town that lays before it, so to speak. Kid in a candy shop, except the kid has already been high on sugar for a full two hours already with some serious immature-prefrontal-cortex sensibilities about self-moderation and all the candy is at reachable child-height and there is no end in sight, so to speak. Pandemic spreading like wildfire amidst a negligent country/society and before you know it, you’ve been in a state of emergency for nearly half a year, so to speak. Sheer and utter chaos. You get the idea.
How I yearn for it. Sigh.
So in full attempts to make me yearn even more for that which I can’t have, I’ve decided to tease and deny myself by ranking one of my first true BDSM loves, corporal punishment. Because why not, right? If I don’t have access to it, why not wax poetic and torture myself some more?????
I typically have a very generous dose of corporal punishment in both my personal and professional life, so this moment of not beating anybody up for nearly half a year has been hard for me. In my non-sessioning hours, I have a whipping boy I’ve been destroying for years for both fun/practice/videos and a cleaning slave that I always discipline with judicial caning. During sessions, I’ve been blessed with a coterie of devoted slaves, subbies, and fetishists who happily indulge in practically all of my sadistic delights. I’m quite lucky, really. What more could a Daddy want?
Of course, everything has changed with coronavirus. So enough talking about what once was – let’s avoid the present and talk about all the ways I can act out my Napoleon complex instead!!!!! (I’m just kidding, of course, the present is great and awesome and meditation is super cool and important.)
Daddy An Li’s Favorite Ways of Walloping Bitches Under the Guise of Consensual “Discipline”
1. Judicial caning.
I never expected this one to rank the highest for me! I came into Femdom thinking that I would be a severe Whipstress, using my singletail in nearly every session – in part because that was one of my first impressions of Female Domination. And then, along came The Stick.
Caning took a while to grow on me. In my more novice years, I admittedly flailed and failed when it came to such – imprecise aim, off-kilter strokes that landed like a toddler’s first drawing, and a complete lack of refined power in the act itself – but after taking Mistress Servalan‘s caning class at DomCon one year, I re-examined my style and began to work on my caning form. (PS: I will never stop singing the praises of Mistress Servalan’s caning form, as well as the rest of her excellent corporal punishment capabilities. The sheer power running through that one arm of hers is incredibly awe-inspiring. You’d have to see it to believe it.)
Caning now feels almost balletic. The feeling of my body aligning together for the perfect stroke is near ecstatic. The THWACK! of a rattan cane tearing up an ass cheek on first stroke is utter satisfaction. The satisfaction of seeing those perfect parallel marks decorating a red and purple derriere. The sheer simplicity of hitting someone with the most OG of weapons, a stick, is almost divine in and of itself. It feels natural, and it feels right.
Judicial caning, for those not in the know, implies a set number of strokes to be carried out with however much severity deemed necessary. I personally do not utilize safe words in my judicial canings – or else, what’s the point? You might as well just carry out a standard caning then.
2. Caning, all other forms.
That’s right! I made caning take up TWO SPOTS on my corporal punishment list because that’s how much I love it. Bet you didn’t see that one coming, did you? Bastinado, hand caning, dick caning, tit caning…the world is truly your oyster when it comes to beating people with a stick! Go forth and beat the populace with sticks, my brethren. You, too, shall experience a world of pain and regret that will have you confusingly coming back for more.
I’m always impressed by people who can take a good tawsing. The Lochgelly tawse is, in my somewhat-humble opinion, one of the more painful implements within the world of corporal punishment. Something about a dense, multilayered split piece of leather strap makes it incredibly ouchie for all those brave enough to bear its bite.
I love playing the game of “which one hurts the most” with my more masochistic clients. It’s a simple game: which one of these toys hurts the most? And you know what? A tawse is almost always up there, despite being so very innocuous looking.
The particular form I use to implement the tawse is also remarkably similar to caning, so for me, it’s a very close runner up to the full-body high I get from a clean cane stroke.
4. Singletail whipping.
We all know what a singletail whip is. In fact, in most of our initial conceptions of what a Dominatrix was, I can almost guarantee that she is carrying a whip. Whipping was automatically built into my personal understanding of Female Domination as a BDSM activity, and so it should be of little surprise that I still feel very fondly for it today.
A whip is the only nonmechanical manmade object capable of creating a sonic boom. (You might need to fact check me on that one, but I’m fairly certain on it.) I want you to think about that. The amount of skill, dexterity, and grace to create a mini-sonic boom from a thin line of leather or nylon, and then to direct that sonic boom into a precise spot on the human body. The artistry of the motions required to successfully bring all these factors together into a precise stroke. The simplistic elegance of such a weapon! Truly divine engineering.
So, of course, use it to make men cry.
Ah, yes, hitting them with even bigger sticks! Logs! The natural evolution of weaponry!
I typically leave paddling for last as, upon the advice of my whipping boy, it tends to leave the most marks and devastation. Whatever bruises and marks had been building up in previous moments of caning/whipping/tawsing/cropping/belting/strapping/whatever become bulldozed by the paddle, thus resulting in an explosive, bloody, brutally bruised ecstasy.
Indeed, wielding a heavy paddle and powering it through the air until it shakes a bottom’s hip bones and rearranges their whole body is highly satisfying. Paddles typically come with a thuddier sensation that resonates more deeply in the body – quite the opposite of the stingy, sharp pangs that I typically reach for first – and therefore they are a perfect complement to all these previous activities! (For me, maybe not so much for the sub…)
My favorite types of paddles are almost always invariably large wood paddles with holes drilled on them for aerodynamic ease. A perfect balance of heavy density and speed. I also enjoy holding oversized objects like fraternity paddles because, well, Napoleon complex.
6. Strapping and belting.
Similar to tawsing, strapping and belting are more delightfully simple pieces of leather that carry with them so much suffering. Hot. While not quite as painful as the tawse, straps and belts are still quite effective modes of discipline.
I think there is something wonderfully classic and realistic about using a strip of leather to punish someone. After all, we all own belts. I’ve personally taken off my belt to beat people in impromptu public play scenarios… because it’s important to always be resourceful when finding modes of making men cry. 😉
And that’s it! This list is obviously not exhaustive. And, I mean, I honestly love all modes of corporal punishment. I’ll frequently pick up a toy that I poo-poo’ed prior, only to realize that I love everything about it – the weight, the new way that I need to adjust myself to flick it just right, the sound, the sensation. Each time I’m at a new dungeon or using my friends’ toys, I’ll spend some time test driving everything I’ve never used before. I’ll have a delightful time getting to understand a new implement and all the many ways I can utilize it for sheer pain and suffering.
After all, few things are more satisfying to me that hitting people. It’s the little things, you know?
With that in mind, go forth, brave kinksters. Hit and be hit. Spread the gospel of corporal punishment! It’s a good’un.
PS: Black and white whipping photo in the beginning by Ryan Bussard.
For the past two months, I’ve had a very good boy in chastity, both physical and mental. He had approached me about his uncontrollable masturbatory urges, and under my guidance, he has not masturbated the entire time. I’ve allowed release of sorts, but they have not been phallus-oriented at all. After all, sexual pleasure always starts in the mind first.
Chastity is one of my favorite forms of play. Keyholding an excellent way of playing with someone from afar (important during this pandemic era) and a fun way to stay enmeshed in somebody’s mind even when you are not there. Men are so frequently controlled by their sexual urges, and we all know these urges cause them to make many, many stupid choices. Keeping a chastity device on a man ensures that those sexual urges are kept within my reign, so at least those stupid choices are ones of my choosing. 😉
Men are easy to control once you have control of their cocks.
With that in mind, I find mental reprogramming to be one of the most entertaining aspects of chastity. Introducing new fetishes to an already horny, pent up brain is so easy. Convincing the poor chastised fellow to explore embarrassingly humiliating activities is a snap. Making him become the slut he never thought he could be is a close reality.
Back to the boy in chastity. I call him ob, short for “overalls bitch” (yes, he does have an overalls/shortalls fetish). I’ve been ordering ob to regularly journal about his experiences since he has started serving me. I love reading my submissives’ journal entries because it’s a great way for me to explore their mind and understand them better, and also it’s an excellent outlet for them to understand themselves as well. I’m a huge advocate of journaling in nearly every single situation.
And these journal entries… I’ve been having a delight reading them and knowing that I, as his key holder, am the sole cause of all his depravities. Seeing how his mind has been changing these past couple of weeks. Watching him delve deeper and deeper into the depths of perversion. Turning him out into a true, degenerate slut. What joys!
Enough of my description. I’ll just let you read his submission journal now. Enjoy!
Submission Journal – Lunch with Daddy 07.30.2020
It has been 41 days and almost 16 hours at the time of this writing since I have been allowed to orgasm or even touch myself. I awoke wearing my new Carhartt WIP overalls and black muzzle with a painful erection in chastity this morning. Daddy had instructed me to lock myself the prior to sleeping last night, and I was able to calm myself and get my cage on in about 15 minutes. I was told I had 30 minutes, and I put the yellow sticky reading “Daddyʼs Little Cocksucker” next to my caged clit, which Daddy reminded me is all I have today.
The morning didn’t start off well when I was informed my brotherʼs schedule had cleared this morning and he would be at home until noon. I still set about everything, not quite knowing when I would have the opportunity to sneak out. I had already tried to get my chastity on once I was wearing my new plug harness and getting the larger ring of the harness over my chastity, and neither had worked.
After my shower, I carefully dried my device, with a piece of toilet paper inside the cage at the tip, and lubed up the vibrating plug and used the same purple rope to harness the plug to me. I am getting better at tying the rope harness, and this secured the plug deeper inside of me while I was walking, although in all instances Iʼve worn this plug it is all the way at depth while sitting. Today I could feel the tip against my prostate as I walked, depending on the position of the plug / rope at that moment.
I put on the dri-fit t-shirt I had picked out and basketball shorts and went and sat down at the kitchen table. The angle of the high-top seats drive the plug deep and I was adjusting it in my ass as he walked downstairs, lol. He was heading down to work out and I saw my opportunity. Once he was downstairs and the music was going, I went upstairs and put on my leather shortalls, heading out the garage door.
I texted Daddy and I was on my way. The seat in my ** presses hard against the plug while I drive, meaning I feel every little bump and dip in the road in my asshole. It was not as bad as the last time I drove to the same mall, but it was still unpleasant. I knew where I wanted to go in the mall, but that did mean I needed to walk all the way across the mall to get there from where I parked. I could have parked on that side, but chose to park as far from my destination as possible.
The looks that you get when youʼre wearing leather shortalls are frequent, but brief. I have zero conversational evidence of this, but Iʼm convinced that people are 100% certain Iʼm gay, and may think it insensitive to stare, although plenty of people do that too. My leather shortalls fit me very well, except the bib / back is too wide, that close to perfection. The feeling of the fabric, even though it is fake, turns me on. It has a certain stretch / feel when it is cold, similar to when it hangs in my air-conditioned closet. When the fabric gets hot it has this wonderful warm feel that is distinguishably different and the fabric stretches slightly more.
I’ve discovered through this process that I am much more an exhibitionist than I thought. The excitement I have from wearing a plug in public is something. More than that, I’ve discovered how things I wasnʼt really into but maybe fantasized about sometimes when I was very horny are deep sexual desires. I really have not been into anal play in the past; I am currently craving, and have been for weeks, to have my asshole filled / vibrated. The mere thought makes me press hard against my cage.
As I’ve mentioned to Daddy, I’ve had two cocksucking dreams in three nights, which is now five. I think the desire to have my ass and mouth stuffed is a psychological reaction from accepting that my clit is no longer a cock, to be used like a man’s organ. When pleasure is taken from the one instrument of sexual pleasure I have ever indulged, it really only took maybe 4 weeks for me to seek sexual pleasure in another way, namely through both of my holes. I’ve accepted taking pleasure from others cumming inside of me, rather than me being allowed to cum, I am never allowed to cum.
The treasure hunt was relatively uneventful, which was a fear of mine since the moment Daddy mentioned it. It was the case that everyone in the store looked at me holding a pair of womenʼs overalls, shortalls, and a white and green striped skirtall. Just another adult male in leather shortalls and sandals, taking selfies holding other pairs of overalls, a relatively normal Thursday morning at the mall? I knew my choice of mall was the true saving grace – the other malls in ** do not have the same mix of staff / shoppers in terms of social norms. I was glad Daddy didn’t make me purchase any overalls for her, that would have been a far more intimate interaction.
With my task complete, I headed to lunch at **. The walk to the restaurant was full of more double takes. The hostess asked me if I would prefer indoor or outdoor seating and I asked for outdoor. I carefully sat down, allowing the plug to push 100% to depth as I sat, which made me press against my cage as the hostess handed me the menu.
The server said hello and took my drink / food order and then after it was delivered I connected with Daddy. She looked so perfect in the A&F overalls I had paid for her to wear on our lunch date. After being denied for more than 40 days, the stimulation at the moment was overwhelming. My clit was pressing against my cage, the plug was at depth and the vibrations were constant for the entire time Daddy and I were on Skype. The feeling of the faux leather and the resistance from the bib and straps of my shortalls as well as Daddy dressed so sexy for me made my clit twitch and tingle.
This was the part of the day I was most nervous about – what would Daddy say in public and how many people would hear. I knew what I was in for when the first thing she said was, “Hi overalls bitch, look at you dressed in your pervert overalls!” The social distanced nature of the lunch meant that other tables had trouble hearing me, but the servers did come to the table twice when Daddy was saying something terribly embarrassing and I saw a laugh and smile from one of them one time.
Once, the server looked like they would come to the table as Daddy said something to the effect of, “What we really need is for you to suck the cock of a man in overalls, it would be such easy access with the zipper on the front.” The sexual rush from hiding so many things for so long, then being caged and plugged in public, and being publicly reminded that you are a dirty cocksucker while dressed like a pervert is something I will always remember, the intensity still lingers in my mind.
I paid the bill and stood up, carefully to make sure the plug did not fall out, as it continued to vibrate. The walk through the mall on the way out wasnʼt bad, the mall was quite a bit busier now. I paid the parking and headed to my ** to drive home. The seat in my ** pushes the plug I am wearing that day to depth, and I filled my cage as I sat down.
The drive home was the same 35 minutes of bouncing and thrusting on the plug, and I kept touching the fake leather fabric of the bib as I drove. I knew I was about to have an expensive afternoon but I was going to get to see Daddy wearing all kinds of overalls for me. We had confusion about what it means to be “plugged in” but after clearing that up, the Skype time was on.
Daddy answered again in the A&F overalls from lunch. For the duration of this session, each time Daddy touched her overalls, changed out of them, buckled in / out, touched herself, pulled the overalls over her ass or walked with the computer staring at her bibbed chest, I pushed hard against my cage. I was stiff inside my metal prison for 1 hour and 8 minutes.
The fit of basically every pair was totally amazing, we were both very happy about that. Seeing Daddy wearing all of those overalls was unbelievable, the dark flared leg Madewell and pink satin overalls, of course, stood out. The pink satin overalls selfie I received after our session has been something I have looked at no fewer than 15 times a day since Thursday.
Our time was up and I said goodbye, wanting it to go on forever, of course. I had a fantastic remainder of my day, thinking of my day with Daddy often throughout. It was the culmination of two fantasies. The first, and most intense, is my desire to have zero control over what I wear for that day. Daddyʼs overalls fetish uniquely positions her to accomplish this in a way that I have dreamed about for a very long time.
The second, less intense and more terrifying fantasy is to have my overalls fetish outed in a public, yet discreet and totally embarrassing way. If I’m plugged and caged, all the better. I have referenced this several times in my shopping with Daddy fantasies.
All in all, fantastic day that I will never forget. On both of our Skype session days, my mood is euphoric afterwards and during. My mood naturally is somewhat depressed the next day but not in a way that is worrying or impactful at all, and totally expected given the high of the high from the days before.
Sup sluts? A little housecleaning today while I update you on bits of my Femdom life. I know many of you have been starving for new posts, so here it is, finally.
First off, I would like to congratulate myself for finally hitting my goal amount of income worked via online work!
The first couple of months of COVID-19 were really tough as I scrambled to transition my realtime work to online (and lost 2/3 of my income in the process), but I’m happy to say that I’ve finally started recouping some of the losses!
I set a goal for myself two years ago to hit a certain amount per month via online domination alone, and I had a vague suspicion that I had reached it already. I’m pretty good with numbers and am always adding up my income subconsciously, so I finally did the math today and confirmed that !yes!, I have indeed hit my goal amount!
I’m feeling pretty fucking baller today.
With that in mind, you can be one of my many online minions serving me from a safe social distance. I’ve been the top 20 on SextPanther all month (and for good reason, duh). Come drop by and give me a text hello. Give me a call on Niteflirt to hear me tell you to repeatedly punch your balls again and again. Join my OnlyFans and AVN Stars for exclusive BTS, photos, pics, and videos you can’t find anywhere else. Or just lurk from afar by purchasing clips and tributing on Clips4Sale or IWantClips.
Truly, the number of venues I’ve created for bitches to adore me from afar is more than generous. I’m a magnanimous bitch, what can I say?
As noted by the banner in my menu bar, I am still not taking realtime BDSM sessions in Los Angeles. Coronavirus rates have been going up, and a lot of you are old fucks who are in the dubious age range or young fucks who have been reckless with your “quarantine” (if this sounds like I’m shaming you, yes, I am).
Also, check out my interview on DommeAddiction if you haven’t seen it already. This came out two months ago but I’ve just added it to my press page today. My press page is a great place to check out a lot of other interviews I’ve done, by the way. People sure love to interview a Dominatrix.
And finally, the most important bit of news: I turn 30 at the end of this month! While my favorite present has typically been realtime sessions up the wazoo, this unfortunately is less applicable in this current climate. I do expect all of my devoted subbies to make up for it in one way or another, either by binging on my fetish clips stores, calling me on Niteflirt to sing me happy birthday, sending me silly happy birthday video texts via SextPanther, sending me tributes and giftcards, or buying me presents off my Amazon Wishlist. I know you’re all up for the task. 😉
All this time spent social distancing and isolating from coronavirus has me on edge. I’ve never spent so much time without sessioning since the entire duration of my ProDomme career, and it’s really made my imagination run wild. I didn’t think I could miss Domination so much, but I suppose distance makes the heart fonder…
With that in mind, I’ve been compiling a list of activities I am looking forward to once COVID-19 quarantine restrictions ease up city, county, state, and country-wide.
Public humiliation! In particular, I very much want to bring an eager crossdresser to the strip club, dolled and slutted up in excess while wearing a tight chastity device and a remote control vibrating butt plug. I take my sissy’s wallet and make it rain on some hardworking women using the her cash. I get loads of lap dances in front of the sissy, effectively cuckolding my embarrassed crossdresser. And of course, I’ll occasionally zap her ass, reminding her who’s in charge.
Heavy medical play. I still haven’t broken in my Howie lab coat and I’d love to use it on a heavily invasive medical session. Foley catheters, enema punishments, saline inflations, and of course, lots and lots and lots of needles.
Extended mummification. Layers of vet wrap, saran wrap, duct tape, or ACE bandage. Slow, methodical, sexy mummification perfectly fitted to the body. Straws and breathing tubes to facilitate breathing. Perfectly layered strips running parallel and tight along the body. I want to really take my time and perfect the mummification to create a perfect little alien gimp…
As per usual, PAIN AND SUFFERING. I pity the fool who is the first to see me for a CBT session. It won’t just be cock and ball torture – it will be a cock and ball apocalypse. Corporal punishment? How about a complete flaying of the cutaneous layers? I might not be able to hold back. Who knows how much sadist energy has been pent up in me. (I’m joking, of course. I always work within one’s hard limits. But really…)
Elaborate BDSM. I’m talking about using all the toys, all the techniques, all the everything! I’m such a gearhead and I miss playing with dungeon furniture and all the accouterments that come with BDSM. I’m already a pretty elaborate player to begin with (which is why I often make submissives clean with me after our session – it typically looks like a landmine went off in a BDSM closet), but I think I really might just go to excess once I’m back in the studio again.
In the meantime, my online sessions will suffice. I’ve actually been having a lot of fun dominating people on the phone via call, text, and cam. Virtual play tends to be a little bit more psychological and oftentimes more cerebral (even if the subs you’re playing with insist on being complete nincompoops), so it’s definitely been working a different part of my kinky brain.
I’ll also be on Periscope next Monday with my friends Lucy Sweetkill and Dia Dynasty for La Maison Du Rouge’s interview series. I love playing at LMDR while I’m in NYC, and both Lucy and Dia are pretty incredible women. Their LMDR interviews are fascinating and informative to watch, so be sure to tune in.
Because I’ll be joining in via Periscope rather than meeting with them in person, it’ll just be audio only on my end. Regardless, I’m sure it will be a fun time. Let me know what you think of it once it airs! xx
PS: Cookie Monster on a noose photo by David Zayas Jr.
Here’s a little overdue housekeeping, if you haven’t been all over my Twitter for the past couple of months. I’ve had a couple of fun new interviews that should sate some of your curiousity about me.
First off, some of you may have noticed a couple of new pages on my website. Right below my menu bar is a notice that realtime sessions have ceased and virtual sessions are available. Despite all the social distancing and personal quarantine, the internet is the salvation for us horny folx. I am literally a screen away for all your pervert fantasies, and I refuse to let coronavirus hold us from being perverts together. 😉
Secondly and equally as relevant, this interview for KQED by Ariella Markowitz. I suggest listening to the audio over reading the text. The audio makes a little bit more sense and some of the details get lost in writing. I had fun talking to Ariella about my transition to online work during this time of self-sequestration for COVID-19.
Moving two thirds of my income online has been a bit of a hurdle that I’ve had an interesting time maneuvering. On the one hand, I do decently well online – with clipsstores, phone calls, texting, and cam sessions, I have enough somewhat passive income (as well as a shrewd savings account) to keep me more comfortable than most. On the other hand, the first month was a bit of a shock while I came to terms with the inertia that was what felt like starting anew.
If you’re interested in taking a look at my other interviews in the past, head on over to my press page. I try to stay updated with most of my press interviews, although I’m sure some have slipped out here and there.
Third, I’ve been having such a good time DMing people on my fansites. If you’re not already following my OnlyFans or AVN Stars, I highly suggest you follow today. I’ve been posting exclusive session videos and POV’s not found on clips stores or my twitters. I also went live for the first time last week. I’m still figuring out the quirks of going live on my fansites (I much prefer individualized cam sessions face to face), but I figure it’s a fun way to keep in touch with people who can otherwise not session with me at the moment.
And that’s about it, bitches! I’ll be back in a couple of days for more smut to keep you horned up. xx
COVID-19 is everywhere in the States right now, and a quarter of Americans have been asked to stay at home. California is one of the states hit hardest with coronavirus cases, and both the city of Los Angeles and the state of California have both asked their residents to stay at home and cease all non-essential business.
I am taking this seriously, and so should you. Our current state of pandemic is such that if we do not act now, these consequences will last longer than most people have the financial capability for. And with that in my mind, I will not be taking sessions until our local, state, and federal governments have given the green light to do so.
A BDSM session is close up, intimate, and personal. Far more up-close than the 6-10 feet recommended for safe social distancing. And because of this, I do not feel right scheduling sessions knowing that I would be fully taking part in community spread. I do not currently own my own dungeon so while the playspaces I use are hygienic and rigorous in their cleaning, I am not personally overseeing all the cleaning done by every person who moves in and out and cannot vouch for a thorough sanitation.
Now don’t get me wrong – I haven’t played all week and have been absolutely itching to tear into flesh. But for the sake of our current climate, I will be abstaining until further notice. All play will be conducted online or via phone.
I know many of you have cabin fever right now. I’ve been swamped with emails in the past couple of days, with people responding to my responses at record speeds. I know a lot of you have been itching to play, to interact, to do literally anything – and with that in mind, here are a couple of opportunities to keep you and your wanking hand busy while maintaining social distance.
First off, for the most immediate personal gratification, give me a call on Niteflirt or shoot me a text on SextPanther. After all, we are in the postmodern era…what more suiting way to stay in touch with me than through digital communication? If you’re lucky, you might even get a fun video or photo from me…
If my voice and words aren’t quite enough and you need more, I’d love to dominate you via cam. I’m available for Skype sessions by appointment only. Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.
For something a little less ephemeral, take a look at my video stores to find the jerk-off of your pleasure. Clips4Sale and IWantClips are my most popular vendors with nearly all of the fetishes I am most well known for: hardsports, CBT/ballbusting, caning, and bondage…just to list a very small few.
Want something a little bit more tailored for you? Contact me to set up the custom of your own fantasies. While I am not shooting with other ProDommes at the moment, I can shoot POV’s as well as live-action videos with my slave gimpy.
If videos aren’t your preference, how about a custom photoset? My full fetish wardrobe, gear, and your imagination to get your own personal photos. I’ve had such a blast shooting photos for clients lately including full kinky captions. Something about a limited visual media veering towards comic is so goddamned kinky…
And finally, if you just want to send a thoughtful gift in this uncertain time, all wishlist gifts and tributes do not go unnoticed. Don’t forget to leave a thoughtful message to let me know you are (gift packaging not necessary).
Don’t worry: I’ll be back to sessioning once all of this lets up. But for now, I will be staying tight at home, making you my bitch from afar.
Also, if you haven’t taken a listen at my latest interview with Loveline with Dr. Chris Donaghue for KROQ/Channel Q, check it out now. You might just learn something. 😉
PS: baby Domme rubber medical photo by Blackula from 2014 (six years ago now, wowie!). My first year as a Dominatrix.
I’ve had a busy, busy, busy week, which means lots of boner material for you degenerate sickos to jerk off to. 😉
First off, some of the screencaps from my recent shoot with Men Are Slaves are up! I had been invited by my good friend Domina Helena Locke to shoot for them last week and was excited to see what directorial wickedness she could come up with. I always have such a good time shooting with a fellow Domme at the helm because it’s a fun insight into other Mistresses’ kinky imaginations.
I had a particularly fun time during our very first scene. The premise is such: I catch a man stealing my car. I abduct him, tying him up and throwing him in the trunk of my car. The scene starts with me dragging him out, ready to punish him. A hilarious beatdown ensues (hilarious for me, at least).
I think the clips came out well! The screencaps are hot as fuck, at the very least. The sub for the scene, Rubber Camille, did a great job taking the pain and being a scared little bitch (not that he had to fake being scared…). Bullying comes naturally to me, and I love high energy humiliating beatdowns. I was really in my element. Take a watch and let me know what you think!
This past week has also been a week of pretty great articles – all the better for you to internet-stalk me with.
First off, Elise Graves wrote an excellent blog post about our first shoot together. As some of you may know, she and I have been shooting and playing with each other for the past couple of months now. She’s an incredible bondage top with a history of bottoming for some pretty hardcore scenes in the past. She had taken a break from bottoming for a couple of years and was beginning to explore it again during our shoot. I was simultaneously humbled, honored, and intimidated that she had asked me to top her for a couple of scenes, even before we had met in person. Topping someone as experienced as her can be a very big task, but I was ready to do my best.
So imagine my surprise when, during the shoot, Elise’s previously unmentioned claustrophobia begins to set in while she is spread eagle in a canvas straitjacket. I would never have expected someone with so much experience both in and out of bondage to be claustrophobic, but there it was. Life throws you curveballs sometimes. (And thinking about it in retrospect, it makes sense: perhaps being scared of something creates a bit of a desire to be in control of it. I’m also a bit claustrophobic as well.)
The post is about Elise working through her claustrophobic demons, and I highly recommend reading it for an unseen behind-the-scenes of what can really go on during shoots. It’s a fascinating insight into the anxieties that can run through one’s mind during moments of heavy play. I was so impressed with her tenacity in confronting her fears in the name of kink.
And finally, check out this interview I did for a forced bi website! There’s plenty of wank fodder for all you cock gobblers here (and I know there are a lot of you), so go ahead and jerk off to the concept of me forcing you to rim another man’s asshole. Enjoy!
On top of that, I’ve had some wild sessions in the past week. Needless to say, my arms are sore from the extensive whippings I’ve done and my combat boots have been getting the right sort of bloody patina they need (I’m just kidding, but not really), and I couldn’t be happier about it. Busily kinky is the best sort of week.
And that’s it for today, sluts. If this really got your horny bones rarin’ and you want more BTS of my sessions or hot exclusive photos, subscribe to my AVN Stars or OnlyFans for regular updates throughout the week. 😉
CBT (cock ball torture, if you’re in the know) is one of my absolute favorite BDSM activities. This has already become Daddy lore, but in case you haven’t spent hours obsessing over my website and stalking me on social media, you may not know that I started my cock and ball tortures at a young age.
A very young age, actually.
My first experiences with CBT were of kicking boys in the balls on the schoolyard, starting in elementary school. I was a bit of a bully, and in particular, I really enjoyed physically dominating boys. I had a couple of go-to’s: kicking them in the shins, pushing them around, punching them in the stomach, putting them in a headlock, spanking their bottoms, and really, any form of degradation I was in the mood for that day (and I was always in the mood).
Kicking ranked the highest out of anything. Everybody knew I was a kicker. I took pleasure in running up to some poor soul and feinting a step backwards to mimic a kick, only to watch them flinch in fear, and then running away, laughing at how much of a wimp the boy was. I learned the power of fear quite early on.
But of course, I didn’t always feint the kick. I more often than not followed through. And when you kick enough, and boys try to run away from you enough, the likelihood of your foot slipping and following through to the balls increases. It increases until the point of it inevitably happening.
I remember the first boy I kicked in the nuts. Let’s call him W. W was annoying. I really didn’t like him, and most of the time, I just wanted him to shut up. I thought he was a whiny little bitch, and I really enjoyed watching him cry. One particularly annoying day, I ran up to him to kick him in the shins for the umpteenth time, when he tried to cross his legs together out of gut reflex. His knees caving inwards caused my foot to slip upwards, sliding all the way up to his balls.
Looking back on it now, it was a relatively light kick, but it was enough to take the wind out of him. His reaction was absolutely comedy gold: he crossed his legs and his eyes went askew in pain, and then he crumpled to the floor like a wet napkin.
I remember feeling shocked and then trying to hold back my delight. I’m sure I didn’t do a very good job concealing my pleasure. His reaction was so immediate and overwhelming that I adored every second of it. I wanted to do it again…and again…and again…and again… and I just stood there in contained glee, watching him struggle on the playground cement, reveling in the power I had over him. I felt alive.
It became apparent to me right then and there that the male genitalia held some kind of mysterious power over men, and I wanted to know all about it. What did it feel like? How much did it hurt? Why did it hurt? How many ways could I make it hurt? How far could I push it?
As I came of age, my questions about cock and ball torture never ended. I was far more interested in the torture of cocks than the pleasure of them. I wanted to bite my partners’ cock and testicles during sex to see what reactions that would evince out of them. I had one partner who wanted me to pull and stretch his balls during sex, and I went about it with utter joy and determination. I watched videos of martial arts practitioners who were repeatedly kicked in the balls with complete fascination. And I really, really, really wanted to grab someone by the nuts and use them as a punching bag.
Imagine my delight when, upon becoming a Dominatrix, I realized that I could torture people’s cock and balls professionally.
Once “Professional Cock and Ball Torturer” was on the table, I set about my ProDomme career making sure that it was an area that I would specialize in. And either way, it was rather hard to avoid. Should it be an option, my hands would inevitably find my way down to the man’s genitals, ready to squeeze, grope, and bust. I almost always included some element of CBT bondage within my sessions. And of course, the mirthful glee on my face was unmistakable whenever given the opportunity to kick a man in the nads.
It’s the little things in life that bring the most joy. And in my particular case, it’s cock and ball torture.
W was extremely scared of me in the years following that fateful kick. I had turned from scathing little girl to ballbusting serious bitch in his eyes in under a second, and I knew it. And even though it was an accident, he and I became extremely aware of the weakness that men had in between their legs. The knowledge of that gave me more power in his eyes, and he knew that I was ready to abuse that power.
In high school, W went through puberty (but was still annoying, by all means). He grew taller and bigger than me, but I still spent those years tormenting him. Despite me staying the same size since sixth grade and the our difference in sizes increasing with each day, I still held the control over him. We shared an understanding. Because he was a man, he would always be weak to me. I knew exactly where his vulnerabilities lay.
This fascination in contrasts – in the weakness of the male sex through their low-hanging fruit – has stuck with me to this day. It was a revelation of sorts. As men grew bigger, their balls remained ever-so-weak. And I, having a Napoleon complex of sorts after having my growth spurt in sixth grade and then never growing again, found gendered vindication through their genitals. There was always a way to bring men down to my level (or lower). In my youthful obsession with CBT, I felt like I had stumbled upon a secret of the sexes: that men were weak.
And it was through exploiting this weakness that I found joy – pure, unfettered joy. Because truly, genitorture is one of the many twisted balancing acts nature has gifted us with. To give a man strength and size, but then to take it away through a cripplingly obvious weak spot. What could be more right in the world?
Warning: Adult and sadomasochistic content ahead
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