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.

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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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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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!"

Fantastic Fetishes

As much as I enjoy S&M activities, there is a special place in my heart for people are straight up fetishists. There is a simplicity to it, there is not much mind reading required as is sometimes expected of me by submissive men.

I'm a Dominatrix, not a mind reader!

One of my favorite fetishists is a man I endearingly refer to as Crutch Guy.

I saw Crutch Guy for the first time a few months ago, we feasted on nut cheese and dairy free ice cream at Pure Food and Wine, my favorite restaurant! He didn't want domination, he just wanted to dine out with a pretty girl on crutches. It was refreshing to say the least, I didn't have to try and figure out what he wanted, because he already knew.

This week however, he wanted to try something new. This week, he wanted to put me in a cast. I have  never been in a cast, neither medically nor professionally. He wrapped my leg with fluff, which is apparently goes over the sleeve that is the first layer. After the fluff came the casting tape. The tape warmed as it hardened, which is surprisingly comforting.

Here is a picture of the final product:

We then just hung out which I was entrapped in fiber glass. I have experienced a variety of bondage styles and this was super interesting. Whenever motion is restricted, there is a sense of frustration, and this was no different. Luckily, since the cast wasn't medically necessary, it came off at the end of the session. I could hardly imagine being trapped like that for weeks at a time!

I would say it was an interesting experience, but I am totally looking forward to seeing him again next month.

If you are a fetishist, don't be shy, contact me and lets see what we can work out. I love exploring new fetishes!!

ALSO: I AM DOING A SPANKING DEMO TONIGHT AT PLEASURE CHEST IN THE UPPER EAST SIDE 8-10 PM

Kinky Catch-up

Its been an exciting few weeks and I haven't had the chance to catch up so here is the recap:



It is no secret that I am a regular in the NYC fetish and kink scene. I have noticed it is unacceptably male dominated with the loudest groups and families run by THE domly-est of male Doms. I have been dreaming of joining a leather family, injecting some Fem-Domme into the scene and just shaking things up.

Thus, I am excited to announce the New York City Girls of Leather. I am a member of the board with a wonderful group of ladies. We had our first meet and greet followed by a gathering at Parthenon for some play afterward. There was a great turn out and we are excited for all the cool things we have coming up.

A few weekends ago, House of Pain hosted an amazing event, Kabuki. It was a fantastic event that was not only aesthetically pleasing, but a great over all experience. I was lucky enough to serve the magnificent Satin Doll with my friend BeautifulMess. We were dressed up and decorated by Doll. It was an over all awesome night with sexy wonderful people.

And now I am spending the week lounging around the pool, because even Dommes need vacations!

Magnificent Mal Martine

Last week I was a lucky little girl. Miss Mal Martine asked me if I could help her with a session.  She has a presence that truly cannot be replicated. She walks into a room and even if you don't see her enter, you feel her. I've seen her play at parties, I've been to bars with her. She is always a pleasure. Her scenes are intense. In bars, she is pure trouble, the best kind of fun. Pure feminine power and dominance just seeps from her pores.

So when I got her message asking if I was free to help her, I nearly squealed.  I was squirming with excitement. I was nervous and excited. I have seen her play a few times, and each time I was awestruck by her elegance and dominance.

The session wasn't anything extreme: bondage, nipple torture, light cock and ball torture, and (my favorite) feet. But it was amazing to watch such an incredible Domme work. She spoke softly. If you dared to breathe, you might miss what she said. I followed her lead as we secured our prey to the table.

It was hard to remain focused when I was so entranced by the lovely Miss Mal. She moved swiftly and sadistically on the table, she possessed a cat like elegance even in her corset and stilettos.
It was an honor to be her assistant as she guided the prey through increasingly painful nipple torture. The noises he made were an elegant soundtrack to her fluid movements.


I hope that she invites me into her dungeon again, and hopefully it will be soon.

A Reminder

Not often, but every once in a while I forget what it is that draws me to this lifestyle and I fall out of touch with my inner Domme. It is the same with any lifestyle, sometimes you just get burnt out.

But I know that I belong in this lifestyle because that feeling only lasts until I am reintroduced to my own power. This weekend was one of those epiphanic moments that provided me with the clarity I was unknowingly seeking.

I usually attend fetish parties, but don't usually play: I like to keep my play private. Last weekend at The Vanguard Party, something felt different. As soon as I saw sweet Lady Andy with James (a member of the Vanguard), I felt my inner Domme awaken and Lady Andy could tell. She was terrified. For some reason, people tend to think I am a mean and scary Domme. Those people are usually right.

James and I took the trembling Lady Andy into the next room for an amazing scene. I knew that she could take more than she was leading on and I knew that she would be putty in my hands within 5 minutes, not even. I was entirely correct. Some hair pulling, a heavy hand and some sadistic massage had dear sweet Lady Andy deep in subspace.

With a little encouragement, Lady Andy was able to not only handle what we gave her, but throughly enjoyed herself. At the end, she was surprised by how much she took and informed us that she thought she could take even more. I know she can, I can't wait to test her again.

My Sexy Sunday Brunch

One of my favorite things about the weekend is brunch. Brunch is a great excuse to lay in bed with a special someone till noon then feast on basically whatever you want, whether is fresh fruit on french toast or vegan shiitake bacon tofu scramble. Brunch is meal that can be hot or cold. Personally, I prefer mine sexy.

This weekend, instead of the usual hunt for an aesthetically pleasing and appetite teasing location my partner and I decided to host a little brunch of our own. We invited over my dear friend Miss Jade and Naps. Miss Jade is one of my submissive sisters and Naps her is submissive daddy.

My partner relaxed while I ran the kitchen. I directed Miss Jade and Naps though our menu: gluten free banana pancakes with apple ginger compote, roasted potatoes, and baby green salad. The various dynamics and chains of command were fun to play with. My partner would make a suggestion to me, which would turn into a command to Miss Jade, who would then make Naps do it. It was quite fun!

It was a lovely day of domestic discipline with punishments being handed out when necessary. I've been studying domestic discipline lately and I've been settling in nicely to my role as head of a household. Realizing that I can have someone else take care of various domestic responsibilities while I watch and enjoy has become very erotic.

Plus, the view isn't too bad either:

Dirty Poetry

I mentioned my wonderful slut who writes me poetry.

Well, he is at it again. 

In addition to his monetary tributes, he sends me poetic tributes. I have been really into poetry lately, but it is even more fantastic to read poems about are written about you by someone else! He sent these to me before our last session and he had greatly improved his cock sucking abilities and worked his way up from butt plug to dildo. 

Here are some more of his amazing haiku tributes:

My goal is simple:

to accept the pain she gives

as my gift to her.

From Miss Marie's mouth

-- lips red -- no words sweeter than

"Such a filthy whore."

Miss Marie's panties

require delicate washing;

my tongue must suffice.

i don't deserve it

but yes, i look forward to

Her degrading me.

Bare-ing Soles

Sometimes, I have really stinky feet. I mean so stinky even I can smell them, and right now is one of those times. As I sat here pondering my stinky feet and wondering what it is that makes foot worship one of my favorite things, a distant memory popped up. It is the type of memory that only makes sense to me now. 

When I was younger, I hung out with the kids on my block. I was the self declared queen and no one dared to question my authority. I ruled the playground, the neighborhood and all the kids in our little crew. Everyone came to my blanket fort to pay their respects.  

One neighbor in particular, named Michael, frequented my blanket fort and endlessly pledged loyalty to my self proclaimed crown. On this one day I recall, he was in my fort telling me how much he loved me. Keep in mind, I was about 8 at this point and he was 10. I told him that if he really did love me and respected my crown, he would kiss and rub my feet. And to my surprise, he did.

He is now a member of the United States Navy, married and has two beautiful children. I wonder if he kisses his wife's feet. 

Its so interesting how fetishes can sometimes be traced to a very specific moment..... 

Back in NYC

After the insanity of Amsterdam, returning to a grey New York City was a grim prospect.

Thankfully, I had a few things to look forward to. Last weekend, I was invited along as a guest of one of the members of The Vanguard to a private kink party at Iron Bell. It was a lovely evening filled with wonderful service and beautiful submission.

I was reunited with my wonderful kitten, the lovely Tyrris! Soon after I saw her pink hair, it was wrapped in my fingers as I dragged her around the stunning dungeon. It had been so long since she has come out that we all made sure she had a special night full of face spitting, kicking, punching, wiggling, caging, pressure points and general service. She was such a good girl, showing anyone who asked her new trick: smoking a cigarette with the lit end in her mouth, making her an ashtray for herself. She is such a great sport with such things. At one point I turned around to find her cleaning up spilled drinks with her hair!!

I was also lucky enough to catch up with my dear sweet Daddy this week, who had just enough time to snap some new photos of me!

Lunch Break

The only thing better than a decadent feast midday is spending lunch with fresh meat in my dungeon. This particular piece of fresh meat had only seen a dominatrix a few times in the past, and came to us looking for an expanded experience. It was a double domme session with the wonderful Miss Bumpy and we took our tender fresh meat and softened him up with the crop.

We calmed his nerves and assured him we were going to give him the best experience possible. My favorite way to calm the newbie nerves is the blindfold.  Once the fresh meat was blindfolded, he relax and we strung him up on the St Andrews Cross. Without his eyes, he was so much more pliable in my manipulative hands. Without having to see the fear in his eyes, I was able to push him farther than he thought he would go. I covered my fresh meat with clothes pins and slowly pulled them off, confusing the pain with gentle caresses. 

Needless to say, it was the best lunch break any of us could imagine.