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)