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!