Freshman Humiliatrix

I don't usually bring politics into my blog but with Betsy DeVos making moves to protect college campus rapists, I feel like I can bring in politics while remaining on topic.

To begin with, it is no secret that college campuses are hot beds of sexual activity, consensual and nonconsensual. I attended state university in the heartland of America surrounded by rolling hills and fields of grain.  One of the roughest moments of time there was when me and some friends sat down and confessed to each other the various accounts of sexual assault and harassment we had all experienced. That is something no one should have to experience, let alone so many should experience.

Having to face a rapist or attacker over and over again on campus is a disruption to education. During the Obama administration, there were guidelines released for how universities were to deal with these allegations. While they were not perfect, they were a much needed step in the right direction. But now Devos has rolled these back, saying they were too harsh on the rapists. TOO HARSH ON RAPISTS. ha.

It was my first weekend of University that I had my first encounter with the type of predator I would soon grow familiar with. I was at a fraternity party with some girls from my dorm and some people I had met at freshman orientation over the summer. I was drinking, of course, and dressed to the nines but in no way asking for anything. By the end of the night I was disoriented and intoxicated, unsure of which way was home. A blond All-American looking boy who lived in my dorm offered to walk home with me.

"Great!" I thought out loud. "Now I won't be walking home alone!!"

Ha. How cute.

This "nice" guy did walk me home, but instead of dropping me at the second floor where my room was, he took me to the 7th floor. In front of his dorm door, he tried to kiss me and I did a quick spin to get out of the way. He then took me to the floor common room where I collapsed onto the couch drowsy from alcohol and trying to reorient myself.

"This is not my floor," I slurred and closed my eyes trying to figure out how why he had brought me here. But then the reason became clear when I opened my eyes and I was in an unwilling staring contest with his one-eyed pocket snake that he was attempting to put on my face or in my hand, it was very unclear.

I swatted it away, giggling "haha is that it?" hinting not so subtly that I found his cock to be disappointing in size. He was visibly thrown off by such a comment and I had pulled myself together to get up and make a dash for the stair well.

I made it away safely, stumbling down the 5 flights of stairs to my own floor and room.

What a welcome to college life.

Since we lived in the same dorm which also housed the closest dining hall, I saw him over and over again. He got my number from someone in our building and added me on Facebook. He must have mistaken my drunkenness for actual interest and persistently messaged me. He actually thought I was interested.

But I've always been a bit twisted. Eventually, I grew annoyed and bored with simply rejecting him with false plans and assignments. A month or so later, he messaged me again. His roommate was out. I didn't have any pressing homework or plans, so I agreed to go up to the 7th floor. I met him in his room, and began my game.

He expressed how hurt he was at my little commentary that first weekend of classes. I played along and subtly patronized him. I let him kiss me, I enjoy a good kiss every now and then. His kissing was subpar, and I told him.

Again he pulled out his unimpressive member. I was bored of him and knew his sexual skill would provide me no pleasure. He sat on the bottom bunk of the beds typical of college dorms and I sat across from him in one of those round chairs also typical of college dorms.

He was toying with his tiny dick and I was toying with him. He was right were I wanted him.

I sat back in my chair.
"It's still unimpressive. Show me how you do it by yourself. I want to watch," I said with feigned interest.

He began to furiously masturbate in front of me, in a pathetic 2 finger grasp, that was all he needed.

I continued to harass him and he continued to masturbate. I was growing bored but he was getting into it. He was actually enjoying it. I didn't intend for him to enjoy this. I was humiliating him, I was making him feel small. He was in no way ever going to be able to please me. As his interest grew, my interest faded.

But in one last stroke of brilliance, I faked a phone call as he was about to cum.

"I need to take this," I told him, knowing full well he was about to reach his sweet release. But his orgasm was none of my concern and as the door clicked behind me I heard that last grunt of his.

He never called me again after that.

Kicking the habit just didn't work

So when I first got to Europe, I did a quick summer stint as a Pub Crawl guide. It was a crazy hectic party girl time, but way different than the partying I loved in NYC. I traded my leather and latex for denim and party shirts and my heels for trainers. I was so entirely certain I could kick my kink habit if I just destracted and immersed myself into something totally different. Here I was in this beautiful city surrounded by a killer team and working a full time day job for the first time ever.

It was an amazing experience. I loved being a pub crawl guide, but in the beginning after a few drinks I would immediately start missing my life as a Domme. Every so often I'd find someone who sparked some sort of sadism in me and I couldn't help myself. Sometimes it was whispering sweet nothings into the ear of a girl I just met till she was over my knee. Other times, it was quiet coercion to get a kiss on my boot.

Other times, I just couldn't help myself and it was full on humiliation. One day, we had some guests at our flat, friends of someone. One in particular caught my eye, S. S had a few years on me and towered above me. He had a boyish simile that hinted at trouble and let me know I could convince him to play.

After a few rounds of two for one margaritas, as alway happened without fail, someone shouted DID YOU KNOW MARIE USED TO BE A PROFESSIONAL DOMINATRIX. S didn't shy away. S asked questions. Everyone asked questions. That day, I felt sassy enough for a show and once we got back to the flat I started my game.

I started talking about how much fun it can be to give up control, how there are so many options once you have someone tied up. How imagination is your only limit.

In a playful way, I helped him out of his shirt to behold the body of a greek statue. I tried not to get distracted by his body as I looped the rope around his wrists.
"See! Rope bondage can be super easy!" I said and I quickly flipped his arms over his head, securing the rope around his muscular torso. I let my fingers linger on his skin, feeling his muscles move as he tested his new bindings.

We had a nice laugh and I paraded my work into the living room.

"And the best part, is now that he is mine, I can do what I please"

I slowly found my way to his zipper and got my on knees, being the full on tease that I am. With big puppy dog eyes, I looked up and asked "May I?"

He was so worked up he forgot there was a room of people watching and uttered a breathless yes.

I'm Back... and I'm into it.

After a year of being completely vanilla, my kinky lizard brain has started waking up again. I think it happened when I put on some latex gloves to clean the bathroom and I remembered how great rubber feels. Sure I was putting on the gloves to clean a toilet, not glamorous as all. But ooooooo my. Latex, even in its less sexy house cleaning cousin, is divine. Or maybe it was the day I accidentally walked into the clothes line neck first, slighting restricting my breath, reminding me how intricate and meaningful breath play can be.... Honestly, it might have been the day I was in the middle of a yoga nidra class and drifted off to the place of self suspension.  Actually, I think it was the day I flipped over the handle bar of a bike, got a killer colorful bruise, its amazing the art we can make on skin. Wait. No. It must have been when some pig hit on me as the bar and I wanted nothing more than to pour my drink on his head, grab his ear and force him to lick the bottom of my boot......

Thats the thing about kink, it isn't a phase, its an entire thought processes. It is engrained in us. It is part of our beings and essential to our character. Sure we can go days and months and years without thinking of it, but it doesn't take much to turn that lizard brain back on. Just one simple every day moment can bring it all back. Something like the snap of a latex cleaning glove, the crack of a towel, the moment when you really give up control to something greater than your self.

There are many outlets for this kinky energy. Personally, I found rock climbing to give a similar thrill. And travel surely can distract from a severe case of kink overload. But eventually, even the most beautiful churches can't distract you and you start getting all sentimental, missing kink looking at broken and tortured Jesus. (Side note: WHERE on earth do these churches get those ridiculous statues???? Like is there a catalog full of tortured Jesuses, or is it Jesusi?)

For me, these moments have been happening a bit too frequently and I am itching to have someone tied up on all fours in front of me. I am itching and wishing and waiting for that moment when I can use one boot to guide a face toward my other boot....  I want freshly kissed boots and worshiped feet. I want boys in rope and girls bent over. I. Want. It. All.


Backpacking and hoboing around Europe has been fun, but I'm ready to trade pub crawls and walking tours for ropes and canes again... Ready to swap my hiking boots for some delicious knee highs.

Basically, I'm back bitches, now get in line and get ready to serve.

OFF THE GRID

I haven't been posting, I haven't been taking new clients.

At this point, I am taking some time off and traveling.

I will be keeping in touch with a few selected and dedicated slaves. If you aren't sure if this is you, it probably isn't you.


Keep checking if you are THAT serious about serving. Maybe send Me a gift card to get my attention?

this break is for Me and I am so excited for it.

Rope Bondage.

I like to take the time to delve into the depths of specific aspects of my craft. Bondage is one of the specifics I frequently find myself musing on. There is something simple about it. It is the first thing that people think of when BDSM comes up. References to kinky furry handcuffs are commonplace. But bondage is anything but commonplace when looked at closely.


Bondage is a physical activity that involves binding the body in a way that the subject is compelled and subjugated to the dominance and control of another. Hands tied, hogtie, mummification, there are endless physical permutations of this activity.

I have been delving into rope bondage lately.

I am fascinated with the different ways different bodies move. I love the look on my subject's face as they feel the rope get tighter and tighter as I continue to furiously tie. Before he/she knows it, he/she is trapped in my wonderful web.

I step back. I watch. The struggle is beautiful: single line from a chest harness to a hard point, one leg tied up, the other leg forced to balance the weight. I watch and the expression on my subjects face slowly dissolves into serenity as he/she gives into the sensation.

The tight rope offers security while presenting torture at the same time. I watch from the other side of the room, every so often, approaching to offer a slight sensation: My warm breath on the neck, My finger tips across an exposed nipple, sometimes a sadistic tug on whatever cock rope may be present.

I watch carefully and closely for the signs that its time to change position.

I switch positions and repeat.

It always amazes me how different each body is, how different each limit is.

Eventually, I let me subject go, I hear the sigh of relief and see the sadness that O/our time has ended.

They always come back. Rope is an addicting thing like that.
Are you ready to be tangled in mine?

A great idea

I met j in a vanilla setting but knew right away that he was kinky. Fast forward 6 months, I decided to take him to Parthenon for a Fem Domme Party. It was his first time a party in a dungeon and he was nervous to say the least, he wasn't sure what to expect.

I had plenty planned for him.

To start the night, I made him carry a balloon. It seemed innocuous at first but after a while it began to weigh on him, not literally, but mentally. I love a good mind game and making sure the balloon didn't pop was a perfect little game.

When we arrived j was overwhelmed by Mistresses and Dommes dressed to the 9s and male subs catering to their every whim. After some socializing, I dragged him into a room and began the scene.

I began with a suspension. I carefully looped the rope and noted and hitched until he was off the ground. The whole time, we were both cracking jokes and having a great time.  By the time I tied off the final line to take j completely off the floor, there was a crowd watching us. We didn't care, we were having our own fun.

j was just hanging out, still holding onto his balloon of course.
I reached into my bag.

he had watched me pack the bag earlier and questioned some of my choices, mostly my choice to include rubber bands.  With the balloon in his hand, suspended in midair, he has no choice but to succumb to my whims. I proceeded to cover his head in rubber bands, contorting his face. I made a gag out of the rubber bands and he started to drool. I stretched one around his nose to make it turn up.

It was all good fun.

As we continued, I heard someone say "Wow, she's the real deal."

I thought to myself, "Damn right I am!"

It was a good night.

Make My Day you little bitches

Currently in SOUTH FLORIDA 

Booking sessions June 29-July 2

I come up with great sessions I would love to do all the time. The problem is finding the person who really is willing to do whatever I want. There are people out there, I know. I can't be the only weirdo who thinks of these types of things. So here it is, 11 session ideas that I need the right slaves for.

1. BEACH DAY PUBLIC SESSION: Whatever your fetish, I want to figure out a way to session on the beach. I want to hear the waves crashing mixed with your pleading. I want to feel the sun on My skin as you worship My feet. Instead of My creative rope bondage, I want to sip a tropical drink while you dig a hole for Me to burry you in. I want to then use your face as a footrest while I finish My mojito. 
2. SPA DAY: I want to go to a day spa with one of My friends and I want you to watch Me get pampered. I want you to be jealous when I am getting a pedicure. Then after you've had your full of humiliation of being the guy staring at Me in the spa, I will send you to run errands for Me so that I can fully relax after My day at the spa. Afterwards, if you've completed your chores, I will allow you to worship My feet and be My foot stool.
3. BOARD GAME OBJECTIFICATION: I know I've talked about this one before, but I still haven't done it. I want to turn a man into My personal board game. I want to have him serve Me for a game night then when We are ready, he will be Our board game. The rules will be arbitrary and made up as We go. Might include just about anything, We can get pretty creative.
4. POETRY SLAVE: I want to read poetry out loud while you worship My feet. I want to put together an anthology of dirty tantalizing poems tailored to drive you wild. I will read them so passionately while you show your appreciation for My gift of words at my feet. It will be a literary experience you won't soon forget.
5. LET IT EAT CAKE: I want to step in cake. I want to feel the sugary goodness of the frosting between My toes. I want to watch you painstakingly lick every bit of frosting off My cute little toes, only to watch Me step in the cake and have to start all over again. I want to watch as you enjoy the delicious treat on My delicious feet. I want to fuck your little mouth with My frosted toes. I want to watch your struggle not to choke. Then, only when I have had My fill of fun, you will carefully clean both My feet and whatever other mess what made in the process. No one likes a messy slave.
6. POOL BOY SLAVE: One of My favorite parts of summer is hanging out at the pool or on the beach. Whats better than lounging by a body of water and soaking up the sun? Well, thats where you come in. I want a pool boy slave for the day. While I am lounging and relaxing, your only objective is to make My day better. Whether its watermelon or a mojito, you will fulfill and serve Me in whatever way I see fit. Maybe you'll get lucky and I'll ask you to help Me apply sunblock.  
7. LOLLIPOP CUCKOLD: You know you aren't worthy of My sexual attention and you crave to see Me with a real man, but you are so below real man that I don't think you even deserve to even see that. What you can see is Me licking a unicorn pop. I love lollipops and know how to eat them to drive any man crazy. Let Me tease you and show you how I'd treat a real man. How pathetic you are. Humiliation by lollipop is one sweet desire.
8. BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE CIA:  If you've seen Me before, you know that I am a cerebral creature. I find the psychology of BDSM to be one of the most appealing aspects. So when the CIA advanced interrogation report became public, I was enthralled. You better book Me for the weekend because this is going to take a while. I want to sit down and go through the advanced interrogation techniques and create a list of techniques to test out on you. Luck for you one of my favorite activities is water boarding.
9. HOME GOODS SLAVE: A Goddess like Me deserves to live in a temple. We will go to various botiques as I acquire the finishing luxurious touches to complete my dream apartment. I have a fetish for nice housewares. I find it extremely arousing and comforting to be surrounded by nice things. I want to elevate My apartment to that level. It is nice now, but imagine how much better dinner will taste when I make it on the new pans you bought for. If you're lucky, I will let you eat it with a knife and fork like a civilized person. If not, you will eat from a bowl on My new kitchen floor like the dog you are.
10. PUBLIC ASH TRAY: Imagine the looks on peoples faces when I start using your mouth as My own personal ashtray. We looked like any other couple in the park till I leaned over and exhaled thick smoke all over your face. We appeared normal till I quietly asked you to get on your knees in front of me and open your mouth. It was a beautiful day out and I didn't want to waste it in the dungeon. Now, open your mouth and swallow My ash like I know you so desperately want to.
11. NPR BONDAGE: I am a huge nerd and I love listening to NPR. I love to learn about a variety of topics as well as keep up to date on various news items. I also love bondage. So why not combine the two? I would love to listen to This American Life while I put you in extremely restrictive bondage. I want to watch you squirm in my rope while Serial plays in the back ground. I want to watch you relax into your binds as Ask Me Another fills the room. 

Make My day bitches. 

I hear "I'll do anything you want" every day, step up and prove it. Make My dreams come true. Don't be a selfish little bitch. See you soon. 

Hints of Summer

With Memorial Day weekend upon us, there is no doubt that summer is just around the corner. Summer invites many naughty opportunities that are not to be wasted and not wasting naughty opportunities is what we did this weekend.

Our little Sarah baby finished her IVY LEAUGE education and celebrated her birthday! Our whole kinky crew went up to her house in Connecticut for wet, tasty, messy pool party BBQ fun. It started out innocently enough, with plenty of congratulations, happy birthdays and polite conversation. Then shit got weird when the weirdos hit the pool. Immediately after we changed into bikinis and swim trunks we turned into the rowdy bunch you all know and love.

The culmination of the night was a little bit of splosh-y food play goodness. It started when My friend Happy and I attempted to recreate a game of fluffy bunny We played one night with My girl Mel. Mel was a champ and fit 8 giant camping marshmallows in her mouth.

But everyone one else took this as a challenge and I proceeded to stuff mouth after mouth with sugary goodness. I reused the same marshmallows and added a few more and stuffed 10 into Nikki's pretty mouth. Followed by sweet little Lo who fit an astonishing 12 in her mouth. By the end the cup of marshmallows was wet and sticky, spotted with hair and grass.

The three girls were a giggly and sticky mess afterwards.



Once We were riled up, We had no choice but to continue our messy rampage: it was time for the cupcake gang bang.

We giggled our way down to the basement and retrieved our surprise for baby Sarah on her birthday: 6 red velvet cupcakes. We found Sarah and pinned her down. We shoved, pushed, rubbed, smushed, and covered her with the delightful pastries. Her face was a mess and covered in frosting and cake. It was a job well done for me and my minions.

If this is how we kicked off summer, I can't wait to see what kinky things happen over the next few months.

UPDATES: I will be in Miami taking sessions from 

June 29 to July 1.

Book your session now!

**All photos taken by Reeru and used with permission.

Personal slaves.

Regardless of how carefully and directly I word my ads, I get requests from rude little boys wanting to be My personal slave.

Oh hello stranger who knows nothing about Me....

Here is the thing about personal slaves, its personal.  The few slaves I keep around have proven their dedication, they show their passion and love for me to no end. They help Me in ways that are not easy to explain. But the key is, that I have chosen them. They did not come begging Me for attention, I saw them, I saw the potential, I cultivated that, I reap the benefits of it.

It has to come from Me. You cannot ask to be a slave, you can only make yourself available for the possibility. You cannot DEMAND to be taken into MY household.  It seems simple. It seems like something apparent but apparently it is not.

I have two personal slaves at this time. Both of them are fantastic. One was actually My first client ever, the other is my girl Mel. Neither asked, both were rewarded with such positions with My life.
Mel runs errands for Me and helps keep Me organized and is rewarded with the sweet guidance she craves. The other funds My budding rubber addiction and gets to serve My friends and Me when we get together.

So you want to be MY personal slave?

Don't send me stupid poorly written emails. Don't beg, don't grovel, don't demand.

See Me in a session and session with Me regularly. Impress Me with tribute. Impress Me with your ability to anticipate My needs. Prove yourself worthy of this type of position, and having some fucking pride about it.

Good luck worms.

What a whirlwind last few weeks.

My birthday came and passed and I celebrated with those close to Me. I was hoping for a fantastic session to come through, but sometimes you little perverts out there get cold feet. I get it: I am intimidating. But if you ever have concerns about your time with Me, reach out, tell Me your concerns. I am a very understanding and compassionate person, even though I’ve been known to crave men’s tears.

Aside from that, I have acquired my first piece of bondage furniture: a gorgeous spanking bench from House of Pain NYC. I also received a rope kit from a dear friend. I love rope and I am excited to learn more about it and practice on my favorite little pets. 

I have also been experimenting more heavily with financial domination. It is intoxicating. Taking money from some poor financial slave is satisfying; I know I deserve that money more than you. I know that I know how to put it to better use; I want it. I want to play games until you are broke and eating ramen noodles to satisfy My lust for your money.

**In addition to lots of kinky news, I am also changing my scheduling procedures.  I will be limiting my phone calls to Tuesdays. Call me 9 am to 9 pm on Tuesdays. I am available for last minute and day of sessions on this day. 

Other wise, all session requests must be submitted through email.

Featured: Marie Pearl!

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Rubber: My first time

Trying on rubber has been on my kinky to do list for a long time now. I love tight form-fitting clothing and spandex is a staple of my vanilla wardrobe. It is undeniably sexy when material clings to my curves and presses against my skin.

Knowing this about myself, I knew once I tried on some rubber, I would be changed. 

I've put it off for a year.

I've dreamed about it and done numerous idealistic internet shopping carts. 

So yesterday, when Miss Ariana was playing dress up in her closet with one of the other girls in the dungeon, I gathered up my courage and asked her if she had something I could wear as well. She looked in her closet which houses her impressive rubber collection and pulled out a transparent black skirt and top set and I died a little inside. There was a minute of questioning of whether my giant ass would fit into the form fitting skirt.

 After some wiggling and help from Miss Ariana, I was zipped into a rubber skirt for the first time. 

I knew immediately I was in love.

Some more wiggling and help from Miss Ariana the long sleeved top was on, the cuffs hugging my wrists.

"Do you want a hood too?" she asked. 

I nodded yes, trying not to drool.

Once the hood was zipped up too, I felt amazing.

I loved it.

A tight sexy second layer of skin, just like they always told me. 

"Are you rubber addicted yet?" Miss Ariana asked me as she helped me out of the outfit.

"Probably," I replied.

Wouldn't you love to see me in more rubber?

Dirty Little Plastics

When I am not talking to perverts and sessioning in my dungeon, I am with my Dirty Little Plastics. We are a troublesome trio, three dirty little girls who are usually up to no good. We are the girls from high school you were too scared to talk to. We are the girls who made you cower when you dared to make eye contact. We are mean, pretty and oh so twisted. One of the DLP is my wonderful Mel, and the other is sweet little Sarah.

Sweet little Sarah is a Daddy's girl, and she's damn good at taking care of her Daddy. We all know that babies take care of Daddies as much as Daddies take care of babies. This means convincing sweet little Sarah to leave her Daddy's side is sometimes a pain in the ass, and usually ends up with a text at 11 pm saying she isn't going to make it while Mel and I roll our eyes so hard we can see our brains. This happens so frequently we have memorized what our brains look like.

This weekend, sweet little Sarah's Daddy was out of town. This means we got to play with her!

This included Mel dressing us up in ridiculous wigs, heading out to pass out prosecco to Phantasm and then just generally being hot as always.

After our prosecco duties were over, I rewarded my sweet little Sarah with a sweet little spanking perfect for a baby princess with the pretty DLP paddle that Mel made for us. Later in the night, I let a few friends play with Mel as well, rewarding her good behavior with a little spanking as well. My girls made me so proud.

The next day, my inbox was flooded with sweet thank yous, butt selfies, and plans for a sleepover.
 I have best girls a Baby Domme could ask for.

Sweet little Sarah and I before the party

Sweet little Sarah's and Mel's Bruised Bottoms.

Mel getting ready to meet us

Adorable paddle

Ballet Humiliation

I am not usually a huge fan of humiliation. I find it hard to dish out at times and nearly impossible with new clients I barely know. Humiliation only appeals to me if there is a strong mental aspect to it. I want to know I am in your head picking at scabs you didn't know were there. I want set off things you haven't thought of since childhood. I want to hint at insecurities you never thought to share, but somehow I just knew all the right (or wrong) buttons to push and things to say. I am an emotional sadist as well as a physical one.

Because of this, I tend to save humiliation for my personal life. I save it for my close friend, my loving baby, my dirty plastic, my grandma puppy: Melissa Majoria. In recent weeks, we have realized I am Mel's Domme. It is thrilling to have such an eager thing under my dirty wing and twisted control. I recently told her I run her vagina and she agreed.

My dear girl hates physical affection and my caring gestures often make her feel uncomfortable, thus humiliation and pain are how I show her love. A few slaps to the face while I scream "BBAAAAAABBBYYY" lets her know I really care for her. Yelling "KISS ME ON THE MOUTH" at her on a street corner as she turns bright red lets her know that she is my best friend. Whatever.

The best thing I have come up with as a torture device, however, is Ballet Humiliation.

Ballet is inherently sexy. The idea of the ballet instructor getting inappropriate with a young student has inspired me a few times. But this isn't a sexy ballet fantasy, this is ballet humiliation. It is simple enough, the idea of graceful movement makes her nervous. I love her but the grace required for ballet is just not in her skill set. She has never liked ballet and I know she hates it when I drag her to class every week.

When we arrive at the studio, I am all smiles and she is all glares. She hates it but she does it for me, like a good girl. As we warm up on the barre, her frustration mounts. As we go through the positions, I can feel her getting flustered.

With each plié, I watch her mind begin to break. With each tondu, her vexation grows. When our instructor approaches with kind intentions and a helpful mission, she begins to break. She doesn't understand the movements, she doesn't feel her body adapting, she just feels... well humiliated. This makes ballet so much more interesting.

By the time we get to floor work, she is on edge. Each combination across the floor chips away at her composure. Each move that she cannot wrap her cute little head around wears her down. She tries and fails with each pass till its too much and she breaks and cries and has to leave the room.

Ballet gets emotional. Luckily, our studio is close to our favorite dumpling shop. While physical comfort might not be her thing, she gladly accepts my dumpling aftercare.

Easy enough for a Baby

Those who have played with me before know I am a little childish. I love the idea of the Lolita extracting her wants and desires from older men who are helpless and must oblige her every demand. I have decided to embrace this image wholeheartedly and sought out Mistress Blunt to help me convey it.

Of course, she took advantage of my presence and asked me to be featured on her blog See Mistress Cook. 

We had a wonderful day that included a nice tossed salad and hot toddys. A great way to spend a day with a stunning fellow Domme!

NEW YEAR AND BACK AT IT

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A word from my clients

Every so often, I recieve emails thanking me for being so awesome and it is time that I share some of them.  While My style is not for everyone, because not everyone is into CBT while Taylor Swift is playing, I do provide an excellent and memorable experience.


Here are two emails I have received recently about sessions. The names are obviously not real, but rather nicknames I have given them.

This one is from the german I tortured for three hours in an amazing session:

Hello Marie,

 

I just happened to go to your blog and to my amazement found a description of our session.

Thanks so much for the consideration you are giving me! It really was a great session!

Also great the way you write about the session, it is very consistent with the way I feel about it!

You are an excellent Domina and a wonderful person – I am sure you will do great in any endeavor!

 

I wish you all the best and hope to have another opportunity to see you in NY!

 

 the german

 

Here is another from a session I did this week that was focused on CBT:

Ty Miss.  While tonight is fresh in my mind, very much enjoyed serving.  For your notes ;) felt like we just started when the 1hr was up.  Where you pushed me, the cloth pins on the tip, that was right at the begining I was wondering if I could handle it for you. I learned that my balls can handle much more than the shaft or tip.  On the predicament/ball bondage, I think I could have handled more for you. Anything you were curious about re my reaction? I know sometimes I'm not super easy to read.  Ty again. Will definetly see you again.

the german

A few weeks ago, I received an eager email from the german. he was going to be in town at the end of October and wanted to book a session with Me. I am usually leery of such things, but the german's emails all contained the right amount of detail while remaining succinct.

The emailed contained a request for a three hour torture scene. A three hour scene is intense for both parties. But a three hour torture scene is even more intense, and with a first time client it can be a daunting task.  But his emails had Me confident that it wasn't going to be all that bad.

As the day approached, I was nervous. A three hour one-off session. I had three hours to meet and destroy this person. I was going to make it happen. I begin all first time sessions with a conversation about likes, dislikes, hard limits, safety concerns, intention and goals. I figured this time would be routine: endless questioning to get to the root of what the german really wanted. I was wrong.

To My amazement, the german actually had typed up and printed eight pages of detailed information about all the things I was planning to ask him about. Eight pages. Eight glorious pages that left nothing out but still wasn't over wordy. Eight pages of bullet points and subheadings and diagrams letting me know exactly what his limits were and what his preferences were. I was amazed and impressed and very thankful.

I was able to torture him very effectively. There wasn't a need for second guessing because it was all outlined for me. Neither of us were annoyed or bored with the actions. It was a blast to be honest.

I cropped him till his butt was a cute shade of pink over and over again while he was tied up in the middle of the room. I watched him squirm and wiggle. He accused me of being mean and I had to show him that I wasn't really mean at all, at least not yet.

After his stunning failure in a certain stress position, he was brutally punished on his bare bottom. I beat him over and over again, switching between the paddle and the crop, occasionally providing a nice thuddy thwack to his balls.

I looked at him after finishing a rather intense round of punishment and saw his face had changed and he was making some strange muffled noises.

"Are you crying or laughing?" I asked.

"Yes," he struggled to reply.

Then W/we both laughed and continued with the scene.

W/we even ended the scene with one of My favorite activities: water boarding.

While water boarding wasn't included in his manifesto, I had enough of an idea of his likes and dislikes the I knew it would be up his alley. After 15 minutes of water boarding while restrained, we ended the scene. he then looked at me and said, "i wasn't sure if water boarding was something You would do so i didn't ask, but i loved that!"

Tips for Phoning a Dominatrix.

Every time I post My ad, I am utterly disgusted by some of the people who call Me. Some people seem to lack normal human manners. It does not take much finesse to make such a call without offense. It just takes some thought. So slaves, submissives, and fetishists, I present you with some basic tips on phoning a Dominatrix. 

1. Do not call at ridiculous hours: I do not live to serve you. I am not constantly sitting by My phone eagerly waiting for your call. If you call Me at 2 am, I am most likely sleeping. If you call Me at 10 pm, I am most likely going to answer very angrily. In My ad, I specifically say I accept calls between 9 am and 9 pm. That is a 12 hour window, don’t be the asshole I tell My friends about when I wake up. If you need to tell Me something at 3 am, email Me. 
2. Do not call mid-masturbation: If I hear your silly little vibrator, I will hang up on you. It is absolutely disgusting and terribly disrespectful.  Did I give you permission to touch yourself? Did you even ask? If you can’t control yourself, then I have very little use for you. (THIS IS FOR YOU GROSS GUY WHO CALLS ME MASTURBATING ONCE A WEEK) If you want to masturbate while W/we talk, you can pay Me for a phone session. 
3. Address Me as Miss Marie: Calling your girlfriend baby is cute, calling a Dominatrix baby is disrespectful. There is no excuse to use any other name for me. I am Miss Marie, I am not baby, sweetie or any other candy coated nickname.
4. Be specific: I wish I was a mind reader. I am not a mind reader. I cannot magically discover what you want by you telling Me simply that you want to be dominated. With time, W/we may develop a relationship were I can anticipate your desires. But calling Me and simply saying “i want You to dominate me” is like walking into a restaurant and telling the waitress you want food. Give Me something, anything to work with. 
5. Be respectful: I clearly advertise as a Dominant. Yet, every once in a while, I get a call from some one who wants to do things like “shove dildos in (My) twat.” Thank you for the offer strange, rude man, but I am definitely going to pass. Don’t ask or say anything crude. W/we haven’t even met yet.
6. Remember, you are a pervert from the internet: Believe it or not, you are just some strange person from the internet who is into weird sexy stuff. There is nothing wrong with that, but I WILL NEVER NEVER NEVER put Myself at risk for you. I am guessing you aren’t worth it. That being said, I have nothing against internet perverts, hell until W/we meet, I am just an internet pervert too. But lets be clear: My comfort and safety come first. I am not looking to harm you, it would be a poor business model, however, I do not know your intentions, so I will not meet you in an alley at midnight by Myself. That is how girls end up dead. 

It isn’t really THAT hard to follow the above rules. I am certain they all essentially fall under the general rule of “Don’t be an asshole” yet I am confronted with these things every week. If you don’t think you can handle not being an asshole, try sending an email. My favorite clients do not call me, but send emails! 

Unplanned Adventures

So I wanted to spend the morning working on an amazing blog post about feet. Then something serendipitous happened, My friend had injured her foot and asked me to go to the podiatrist with her. What a wonderful way to combine My emerging fascination with medical fetishes and My full developed foot fetish! Sure, I felt for her, but I was excited to go to the foot doctor.

I am sure she was in pain, but I was too busy taking pictures and being a general pervert taking pictures of her feet. Who doesn't love an understated up-skirt shot?!



So now on to the fun part of this post: PICTURES! Enjoy, My dears.

Foot pictures on the bus in Argentina

Relaxing in knee highs back in spring 

Purple Pedicure

Tasty Soles

About to put on slippers in Amsterdam

Cute little toes

After the beach in flip flops

So cute I just had to take a picture of them!