Whence "Kinky"?

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You'd think I'd be all over this ...

Tea, Maid in Manhattan.

I dunno. I could see it getting worked into an OE sometime. Maybe with the right client.

However, these days, I'm more obsessed with getting a reservation at Momofuku Ko. It is notoriously hard to get into. Basically, you have to register on the reservation site then start jockeying at 9:58AM to try and secure 1, 2, or 4 of the 14 available seats available -- all of which are typically gone by 10:00:48AM. Seriously.

But I am willing to be incredibly generous to the culinarily appreciative man (no dietary restrictions or food allergies!!! If you've never had foie gras or raw fish/meat before, do NOT bother. This is not for you.) who can score us a reservation for two. (MVX is gagging to go as well ... Get a resy for four and I'll bring her and another Domme friend.) I can't speak for the other Dommes, but whoever takes me for dinner at Ko (full tab, with wine pairings and service will be approx. $200/pp) will get dinner time (obvs) plus two hours of play with me, either that night or at a time of his choosing.

Deal?

They're here! They're here!

So I know I said I wasn't going to buy any new gear until after summer but two people -- one anonymous and one not -- generously purchased a few things for me recently. Now it's all arrived.

First was the Studio Gum Multifunction Mask. This piece is sick. Heavy rubber hood with a zip over gas mask. I also got the "bubbler" inhaler attachment to go with it. The idea being the bottle is filled with ... whatever fragrant liquid I like and then the hose is attached to the mask and the wearer's every breath gets filtered through that liquid. Serious Bondage has a great post about that Bubbler Bottle (you'll have to click through a few entry pages before the article shows up).

I talked with a few of my gas mask loving friends and spent a fair amount of time this morning talking with rubberist and bondage expert Ariana Chevalier about some of the finer points of using this intense, intimidating, incredible hood. My oh my. A loving Thank You to Yin, Delano, Darla, and Ariana for your invaluable tips and feedback and heartfelt gratitude to the very, very kinky man who put this in my hands.

My other shipment was my wishlist from Scott Paul Designs. I'm now the proud owner of his "Click a Cuff" bondage system (finally I have a rigid spreader bar!) as well as the blindfold and assorted gags, including the Humilator gag serving tray and toilet tissue holder.

Last night, I had the opportunity to test drive a few of the pieces in a preliminary run. Ohhhh, yes. Wow. Not only are Scott's pieces really portable, lightweight, and beautiful. They're functional. I had my bottom in the spreaderbar for a pretty serious thrashing and it was the first time I ever had a bottom not wriggle his feet around like one can in most spreaderbars. (Now, spreader bars finally make sense to me!) The serving tray gag supported a glass of wine quite nicely (though my bottom reported a lot of jaw stress under the weight, which I don't think is a bad thing. Quite part of the fun, I suspect.)

I still have to run the set through some more field testing, but so far, I'm super excited. Delighted. To whoever my "secret admirer" is ... thank you. (And while I normally don't like mysteries, I have to say, I'm enjoying the whodunnit? thing here. It's such a generous gift and yet the giver's not trying to get credit for it. Very sexy.)

Fortunately, it appears I'll have plenty of opportunities this week to play with my new stuff. I am so blessed and appreciate all of you -- fellow Dominas, clients, gift givers, blog commenters, scene friends -- for your presence and influence. I couldn't be happier.

Got This Far

Y'know, sometimes after a really intense scene, I'll look around my studio at all the gear and equipment and just marvel that I'm here at all. I mean, I became a ProDomme so I could learn how to use a spreader bar. Seriously.

I'd been playing with this guy, Z, I'd met through a mutual friend. He was in a relationship, as was I, but we both knew we wanted to play. He showed me a website for Den of Iniquity and said that they'd rent a play room to us by the hour. There was a discount for pros, so I called and said I was a private prodomme named "Mistress Troy" and there we were.

Z liked being inspected, spanked, spat on, slapped. So I'd prance around him in my high heels and stick my finger in his mouth or ear, peering in as if he were a prisoner. Or a horse. I'd expectorate sprays of saliva onto his face. Slap him. Smack his ass with a cane or crop.

The whole time my legs would be trembling with fear and excitement. I had no idea what I was doing. I couldn't believe he liked it. That I was doing it "right." That this was what he really wanted.

Over time, Z started sharing more fantasies with me. "Brutally take me with a strapon," he said. As he entered the dungeon, I threw a bag over his head and pushed him up against the wall. "I'm gonna fuck that slutty ass of yours," I hissed in his ear, hoping he was intimidated and surprised enough that he couldn't hear the astonishment in my own voice at my words.

"Suspend me by my wrists, spread my legs with the spreader bar, and singletail me," he said.

Wait. What?!

I queried the girls in the DOI office. "What's a single tail? How do I suspend someone by their wrists? And what the hell is a spreader bar?!?" They responded simply and a little impatiently. I went back to the room and tried the spreader bar. Still wasn't sure I got it.

Z and I kinda got out of the habit of playing together shortly after that. I was impatient with the inspecting and spitting thing and just completely frustrated that I couldn't get any of the girls to sit down and teach me how to do anything more. Plus, I just wasn't comfortable pretending to know what I was doing so I could fulfill Z's fantasies. Someone could get hurt.

So I stopped. For, like, months. Then I saw an ad on Craig's List inviting women who "want to add an interesting chapter to your memoirs" to consider an apprenticeship with an experienced, professional dominatrix at her luxuriously appointed chambers in a private townhouse in Murray Hill.

That was Domina M.

I remember going to the interview and sitting across from her, thinking she looked like Stephanie March, the former Law and Order actress. M made sense to me, too. She explained what she was looking for in her Apprentices: intelligent, upscale, attractive young women with a genuine interest in BDSM. She said that our training would be extensive (unlike the other Houses I'd been exposed to where "training" consisted of sitting in on a couple of sessions by "more experienced" Mistresses).

It was late February, 2004. I had my then-annual, month-long trip to New Orleans planned for early April. "Great, I'll stay for six weeks, figure out what this 'spreader bar' thing is, learn how to flog and some other stuff I'll probably never use again. But, hey, at least I'll know what I'm doing!" I thought to myself. I had a bunch of steady freelance gigs keeping me busy and a pretty Sex and the City life: why on Earth would I want to be a sex worker? I was "Carrie," goddammit!

When it was time to leave for New Orleans, I told M that I wanted to take a break and that it was very possible I wouldn't be back.

Yeah. That didn't happen.

Four and a half years later though, well, I sure can say I know how to use a spreader bar.

Riding the Internet Rails

Tonight I was IM'ing with a friend who pointed me to Reverse Cowgirl's blog. As I scrolled through, I noticed a photo she'd posted by Stephen Meisel. It looked like Madonna with long hair pissing on Naomi Campbell. I clicked on the pic and ended up at a collection of images from Madonna's infamous "Sex" book. Scrolling through the pictures -- which inexplicably were unfamiliar to me for I thought I'd seen "Sex" before -- I was mesmerized by the images (that book's, what? 20 years old now? Oh, more like 16. Anyway...)

I'm not sure why watching Madonna play "dominatrix" in her fantasy book seems more believable to me than what I see sometimes when I flip through the ads on Eros. But it does. Maybe just because of these shoes.

Bondage. Glorious, Inescapable BONDAGE

A little while ago I had a photo shoot to show off my collection of Fetters equipment. Although the final images are still works-in-progress, I thought I'd give you a sneak peek.





I had someone in the Cock and Ball Pillory (above) the other day. I made a torso harness for him out of industrial chains and multiple padlocks. Around his neck was an amazing corset, similar to this, but with straps buckled around the head. He was blindfolded, hands padlocked into fist mitts. His cock pulled stiffly along with his balls through the vise of the pillory, a leather parachute lined with metal prickers and fitted with a 2lb. weight stretching his scrotum further. I attached more lead weights to the chain links right above his nipples, then slid in 20G needles to the puckered flesh underneath the weights, one deep, one shallow.

I was reminded (again, happily) what a turn on it is to have a man immobilized before me. The access. His powerlessness. The possibilities! Honestly, I don't even have to DO anything, I can just stand there and stare at him and fantasize. Makes me just wanna touch myself. You know. Down there.

My Retirement Plan...

C'mere, give Mama some shuga.

There are even pictures! (Better when viewed with this soundtrack)

Why Haven't You Gone to a ProDomme? Why You Should.

Unspeakable Axe, a very classy fellow, wrote a provocative blog recently about why he doesn't session with professional dominatrices (yet). While some of his points (no intercourse! it's a budget killer!) are reasonable, I found some of it inconsistent with my experiences and perspective.

So consider this my response rap: Why You Should See A (This) Prodomme.

Because you'll be wanted.
With few exceptions, I don't accept a session with a client I'm not attracted to in some way, be it because he's super smart, super hot, super experienced, super witty, super intriguing, or just has a really big, juicy, gorgeous vocabulary. If you've got any of that going on AND you like to get tied up, tethered down, wrapped around, or used as target practice, I want you. If you can make me laugh for real over a plate of sheep's milk ricotta gnudi and a badass Amarone, then I want you even more.

I don't want you cause you're paying me. Your money doesn't make you desirable. Your desire for what I have to offer you makes you desirable. I want you because you went through the process of finding me, learning all you could about me, and concluding that I was the only one you wanted to have this experience with for reasons you know specifically (and you share them truthfully with me).

Granted, there's no sex on the menu but I have been known to give generous hugs to my clients, to hold them in my arms, to share emotional, personal stories. It's not a sexual intimacy, but it's quite profound, unique, and special nonetheless. Because of my play style, it's probably more than fair to say that my clients don't really feel like clients but more like men in a play-driven relationship with a dominant woman. Which is also what I want from them.

You would please me by playing with me
I love to play and I feed even more on your desire to play with me. It nourishes me. It inspires me. It makes me even hungrier. I can never get enough of the play I love to do, especially with the people who make this so much fun for me. It is really rare that I'm not in the mood to play with a client. (Ironically, I can be less motivated to play in my personal relationships. Pro-play focuses me, whereas at home I'm prone to distraction and laziness.)

What few clients seem to understand is that the scene starts for me when you tell me you'd like to see me and then make your appointment. I start thinking about playing with you, what I'm going to do to you, what I want to create for you. And all in the context of, driven by what I'm craving or needing or feeling at that moment. Call me a service Top, if you must (be reductive and label-y) but a great deal of my pleasure is in thinking about you specifically and what's going to blow you away.

It irritates me when clients say, "whatever pleases you, Mistress" because that doesn't give me anything to work with. There's no friction there. Tell me what YOU WANT, what pleases YOU because from there I can decide whether to grant or to deny. To give abundantly or stintingly. To deliver with conditions or generosity.

Or to just twist it all around every possible way so that you are once again reminded to be careful what you ask for.

THAT. That is how you please me.

Because you understand the price of quality
If you've shopped the bargains and found the craftsmanship lacking. If you have a clear idea in your mind of what you want to experience -- and what you don't want. If you've done your research and believe I'm the one who might be able to give you what you seek. Just do it. You do it for other material luxuries that give you pleasure: the leather interior, the welcome cocktail, the double stitched cuffs, the touchable gadget, the decades of barrel aging, the titanium frame.

Or maybe you've never been able to afford to indulge yourself. Maybe you just have a hard time wrapping your head around paying that kind of money for an experience that you probably can't show off to your friends.

But the thing is: You will know. This is the experience you've craved and sought your whole life and you're going to get a memory out of it that will last you just as long. And it will be yours. All yours. To be fondled in your dreams, relived over and over again. And it will be worth it. I promise you.

Ephemera

Just some random bits from my life, my thoughts. Like Twitter, but a little more fleshed out.

*Talked with Suzanne SxySadist today and realized we had a little space in our schedule during her visit next weekend. So we're thinking it'd be awfully sweet of us to fill it with a double session or two. Speaking of super Suze, she's been getting me all hot and bothered and inspired with her blog this past week. Check it out.

*I've been tying Carrick Bends (called a Double Coin Knot by 2KnottyBoys) in all the sashes on my skirts and pants lately. It's pretty ... and I hope some rope lover on the street will notice.

*A heartfelt Thank You to my anonymous donor for the store credit as well as to my fellow perv for your unexpected generosity.

*I wore shimmery gold Nippies while sunbathing on Cedar Beach in Babylon, Long Island and now I have these pale butterflies dancing on my sunburned chest. I'd never been to any of Long Island's beaches (except the occasional concert at Jones Beach). Never been to the Hamptons or Montauk or Fire Island. The water was unpleasantly cold no matter how unbearably hot I was.

*Instead of going to yoga on Saturday, I went to the Big Apple Barbecue Festival in Madison Square Park. I loved seeing my food friends. I met a new one and we got to talking and walking and next thing I know we're at my studio. For a seen it all, done it all kinda guy he sure was surprised to see what was inside. Afterwards I rode my bike to a friend's place and spent the rest of the afternoon unspooling rope and sipping on coconut ginger smoothies. Thanks, axe, for dinner. You're welcome for the Beard Papa.

*Friday night I was out with my food friends at an industry party. I sipped martinis and danced to Madonna/Justin. One said to me "Girl, you need to get out more often. You was partying like it's been too long!" I'm embarrassed it was so obvious but on the other hand, I had a great time. Four minutes to save the world ... or at least me.

Speaking of pop ... is Rihanna a closeted domme or does she just play one on TV?
Evidence 1 (Though who doesn't want to Top Adam Levine?)
Evidence 2 (mostly lyrics) ("You look so dumb right now...")
Evidence 3 (check the wallpaper!)
Evidence 4 (Shut up and drive!)
Evidence 5 (ballet boots?! spiked gloves!?! leather halter shorts!?!)
I saw her perform at MSG a few weeks ago and her backup dancers were in latex catsuits, there was simulated spanking, she had on a super-dommy outfit... You didn't even have to be a scenester to recognize it. MVX and I were discussing this the other day, trying to figure out if this is all coming from her or just styling: "Maybe we'll find out if she breaks up with Chris Brown and he goes public about their sex life. 'My life as Rihanna's sex slave: An OK! EXCLUSIVE!'"

*A friend sent me a link for InHerTube. I don't have a tire fetish or even care much for dildos, but I want that hand harness! (The boot harness could be pretty cool too. Give "ass kicking" a whole new meaning, no?)

That's all for now. Feel free to add your own bits.

Let Your Fingers Do the Walking

I finally got my computer fixed. Turned out my fan was busted (actually, I should've known this ... I've spent most of the past 2-3 weeks with ice packs under my laptop because it'd run so hot). So now my laptop has a new motherboard, heat sink, fan, and keyboard. It's like it's almost new!

More importantly, I can actually navigate like a member of the 21st century. So if you've been wanting or meaning to get in touch (or you've been waiting for a reply...) resend it to me. Or write me again. I'll get it! I'll write you back!

What's on your wishlist?

One of my clients sent me an email recently intimating that he'd been fantasizing about picking up something for me at Fetters: "something dark, or sharp, or just plain evil," he said.

What intrigued me about this was just wondering what that present would look like from his point of view. It reminded me about how much I enjoy looking at other Mistresses' wishlists because they not only help me discover great toys, sites, and resources, but because they can tell me so much about the Mistress.

I also get a lot of inspiration when clients send me links for toys they're curious about or want to play with (unless it's some kind of boundary-pushing toy like a Feeldoe or some other kind of genital toy for me...that really rubs me the wrong way (slight pun intended)).

So now I want to know: what's on your wishlist? What piece of equipment or gear have you seen that's gotten your mouth watering? (Or cock throbbing. Or simply activated your "covet" switch.) Paste a link. Show me. Explain why ... or don't. I just want to see.

So, like, I have this fantasy?

Here's one for ya.

Whilst bemoaning my sore feet and sore throat at SMack! the other night, I was again reminded why I just don't like going to fetish scene parties. Whole lotta walkin' around looking for something (or someone) worth seeing. I hardly saw any play myself ... then again, seemed like a girl couldn't swing a whip without hitting all the spectators in the process.

So I've been thinking about hosting a private play party at my studio for a while now. Something small, like, 10-14 people. Thing is, I want everyone to PLAY. One of the ways I thought I'd facilitate that was by having everyone wear a little tag that lists their inclinations for the evening. Like, mine might read:

Hi, My Name is: TROY
Will Top for: Singletailing, rope suspension, trampling
Will bottom for: rope suspension

And then anyone who wanted to be singletailed or suspended or trampled could come up and ask me to do that and I would. Similarly, if I saw someone with a tag that read, say:

Hi, My Name is: BOB
Will bottom for: spanking, CBT, face slapping

And I thought, "Hey! I'd like to spank him!" then I'd be free to say, "Hey, Bob, want a spanking from me?"

You could only ask for what's on that person's sticker. (Bob could ask me to singletail him but not spank him, e.g.). All players -- Tops and bottoms -- would have to agree that all play requests must be honored at least once per player for at least ten minutes, after which either player may say "Mercy" and end the scene. Everyone, in other words, should get to play.

Part II of this fantasy is that I would have one or two service bottoms in attendance. One would be a bondage installation. Catheterized, mummified, with some sort of structural support so that he could comfortably stay in the position for several hours. Perhaps he'd be outfitted with this to make him functional as well. Or install him in the bathroom (ooooh!) with this.

The other service bottom would be a consensual nonconsensual free object. Anyone can do anything s/he wants to him/her at any time. (Okay, okay ... Maybe I'd allow a sticker with three hard limits.)

And since this would be a private -- i.e. non-client -- play party, I would auction off the service bottom positions to non-invitees through my blog and the proceeds would go to my sister's Operation Field Trip fund. (Speaking of which, there's an address now to mail your donations directly! Please click the link for details!)

Wow. That's actually a better fantasy than the one I was originally going to write about .... especially cause this one actually has a shot at coming true!