Pro-domme – Page 41 – Femdom Resource

A delightfully devious device

This looks like a particularly exciting device for nipple torture. I think it’s called a nipple tree. There’s a name which conjures up a fairly weird mental image. I’ve seen them used before, but this is by far the prettiest, with its chrome and perspex design. I imagine it must ideal for very carefully inflicting just the perfect amount of pain via the clover clamps.

As for the mistress in these shots, I could swear I know who it is, but I just can’t connect the face to a name. It’s driving me slightly nuts, and reverse image searching hasn’t helped. So if you can help me attribute correctly then please leave me a comment with the lady’s name.

Updated: Thanks to a comment by Downlow I’ve finally identified the mistress as the talented Dante Posh. She’s a NYC/NJ based pro-domme, although she also travels extensively. I believe this is from a scene she shot for the English Mansion.

I found these two images on the appropriately named Tortured Nipples Tumblr.

Puppet on a string

I’ve seen (and experienced) zippers before. It’s a style of play where multiple clips are attached and then ripped off in quick succession using a cord. It can be really creative (in terms of how the zipper is arranged) and really intensive for the submissive. However, I’ve never seen it done in quite this way before. It looks like she can create some finely tuned pain by carefully moving her fingers. Not to mention the wartenberg wheel she’s deploying with her other hand. That’s a really nice combination to create overloaded sensations.

The puppet mistress in this case is Mistress Victoria Rage. Her blog is here and this image was taken from one of her posts on the subject of BDSM and pain. She’s a pro-domme who’s based out of Seattle. Despite our co-locality I’ve not had the opportunity to play with her.

On a related but slightly orthogonal note, I’ve just noticed that the wikipedia page on zippers suggests they can also be done with temporary piercing needles. Does anyone have any idea how that would work? It sounds pretty insane. I can’t imagine how anyone could safely rip out a row of piercing needles, and so have to assume it’s the usual wacky randomness that comes with wikipedia.

Oxygen is for wimps

I’m afraid there are no professionally produced shots of dominant women in today’s post. Instead you’re stuck with my scrawny ass. Although you do get to see the knees of a very attractive dominant woman, if that’s any consolation. Yes, it’s time for another post featuring one of my sessions and the talented Lady Lydia.

This particular session was conducted a few days ago and was based on my suggested single word theme – breathplay. As usual Lydia used that as a jumping off point for an assortment of different things, including some particularly vicious nipple torture. Fortunately for me I zoned out pretty quickly, and so could process the pain in a really good headspace. Being immobilized while Lydia leans in over me and messes with my breathing always creates a very powerful submissive sensation. It’s almost like being given a powerful drug, so quickly does it change my mental state.

The first couple of shots below show one of the nipple torture techniques she used (click the images if you wish to enlarge them). The orange rings are elasticator bands, two per nipple, applied with a special tool that is used to stretch them out prior to their application. As is usual with nipple torture, they hurt when first applied, aren’t too painful while in place, and are absolute agony when removed. Particularly when somebody pushes down hard on the nipple like she’s a debt collector ringing a delinquents doorbell.

The final three shots are a good dominant’s eye view of the proceedings. The bottom left one shows just how bruised and red the nipples end up getting. Some of the metal clamps that were used are visible on the right side. The bottom right shot shows a plastic bag being used for controlling and eliminating the oxygen available to me. I didn’t actually realize Lydia was standing up to get the shot, as at the time it was all just a blur of white. There was a towel behind my head as we also did some cloth and water breathplay at one point. That was interesting, but the dripping cold water made me want to pee, which just adds another layer of torture when you’re bound firmly into place. The top right shot gives a good overview of both the plastic head wrap and the bondage bag being used for restraint. I kind of like the black, red and white coloring of the shot, with just the vaguest suggestion of my face visible under the plastic.

Brusied nipples with elasticators on them

As always my thanks goes out the astonishing Lady Lydia, who unfailingly succeeds in creating incredibly intense and enjoyable sessions. Not to mention snapping shots for me to share.

A helping hand

I like this picture for a kind of odd reason. It’s not the beautiful mistress, although that’s certainly a bonus. It’s not the latex outfit or boots, although I am partial to an authoritarian uniform. No, what appeals to me is the fact that he’s holding the rope for her. I’m not sure if he’s trying to untangle it or just make it easily available, but I do like that he’s helping out.

When I used to just fantasize about BDSM, I was always attracted to the idea of forceful control. Not non-consensual play, but not quite fully consensual either. I never really enjoyed corporal punishment movies if it looked like the guy could simply stand up and walk-away. It didn’t make sense to me. Why would a more powerful man put up with being beaten unless he was held in place? How would he be able to stop himself resisting?

Now that I’ve got a little experience under my belt, I finally get it. In fact these days I love being a partial architect in my own demise. It’s fun to give up control a little piece at a time. To position myself as I’m asked. To hold the instruments of torture. To accept the gag or the hood. To push my back out towards the swinging whip. Each little helpful action is a pleasurable reaffirmation of the D/s dynamic between the mistress and myself.

This is Domina Sreni, a pro-domme based in Milan. If you are lucky enough to live in the that part of the world and wish to pay her a visit, her contact page is here.

The doministrix in action

Mistress T recently published a post containing an entertaining description of a trip home to see her family. They have some idea of what she does, which I think is great, but she does have deal with a few awkward conversations. The most cringeworthy one that she describes was with a friend of her father…

….an older man with no teeth who started the conversation with: “So you do that dancing up and down the pole, eh?”. I carefully explained that I spent about a year dancing 5-6 years ago but I haven’t done that for awhile…hoping we could move the conversation to something else but no. He then said leeringly: “So you’re into the pictures now?” Fuck.
Mistress T

Personally, while I’d like to certainly avoid anything as painful as that sounds, I would enjoy being more open with my family. Or even being open at all. Keeping a big important chunk of my life separate from them isn’t pleasant. Unfortunately, while I have very caring supportive parents, I just can’t see how the conversation would work out well. Gay would be no problem. That’s genetic and there wouldn’t be an issue. But BDSM? And a submissive masochist? They’d blame themselves, and then I’d have to deal with hours of how they should have punished me differently, or potty trained me differently, or just done everything differently. Nobody wins in that scenario.

The ‘doministrix’ title comes courtesy of Mistress T’s mother conflating mistress with dominatrix. I like it a lot. Although it does sound a little like a monster that Perseus would have fought in Greek mythology. I can imagine it as a Ray Harryhausen movie – ‘Perseus versus the deadly doministrix’.

There’s always endless blogsphere debate about labels. Dom vs Domme vs Dominant is a perennial favorite. Or how to distinguish between pro-domme and non-pro-domme. Lifestyle domme is common but doesn’t find favor everywhere. Perhaps we should just start mashing a few words together and come up with some new ones. Lets say Dominatrix can be exclusively a pro-domme thing, and doministrix can be lifestyle. Problem solved (for about 30 seconds).

Anyway, here’s the doministrix herself in action, getting a polished posterior from a lucky slave. You can find similar material, along with all her excellent videos, at her commercial site.

Tasting Menu

In a comment to my previous post ‘Masochist vs Fetishist vs Submissive‘ Saratoga asked an interesting question.

Do you think your feelings of submission, as distinct from masochism or fetish, are different for you, than, say, for me, because yours involved Pro Dommes with whom you don’t have a non-professional attachment, whereas all of mine, save one instance, were lifestyle, relationship- or association-based FemDom experiences?
Saratoga

In many ways this is an impossible question to answer, given I don’t know know what his feelings of submission are. I’ve also only had vanilla relationships prior to getting involved physically involved in BDSM, so I don’t even have a good comparison to make in my own life. However, it did seem an interesting thing to think about in general terms. What are some of the potential difference between professional and non-professional play?

In a follow-up comment Saratoga likened pro-play to an unhealthy snack as compared to a good balanced meal. I don’t like that analogy at all. An unhealthy snack suggests something bad for you, a guilty weakness that you’d be better off resisting. That doesn’t align at all with how I feel about my sessions. Despite that, the food analogy, always a popular one in this kind of context, does have some merit.

I’d liken a professional session to a tasting menu in a high end restaurant. It’ll probably showcases techniques and ingredients you might find it difficult to replicate at home. With the right kind of chef in the kitchen it’ll probably be designed and prepared with intensity and passion. It can deliver an out-of-the world experience for a few hours. I’ve had some restaurant meals that have almost been spiritual experiences the food was so good. But it’s a context free, self-contained experience. It stands alone as a very pure event. There’s not all the shared emotional history and deeper connection that you might get with a specially prepared home cooked meal.

The purity of a professional session is a mixed blessing. On the downside it means dealing with a very disconnected world. There’s a session and there’s normal life. If you can’t deal with that kind of discontinuity then professional play probably isn’t a good idea. It also limits the evolution of the D/s dynamic. Even when you session regularly with the same pro-domme (as I do), it’s hard to create a sense of continuity between sessions. On the upside, there’s no emotional baggage to interfere with the dynamic. No residual tension, unspoken issues or unresolved arguments. There’s just a dominant woman, a bunch of equipment design to fuck someone up and a naked willing submissive.

It would be a mistake to confuse this purity with emotional simplicity. I think it’s instructive to compare a pro-domme session with a casual, just for fun, sexual encounter. To the outside observer these might look like very similar things. The activities are different, but they both involve people outside a relationship engaging each other in intense physical sensations. Neither of them feature any kind of emotional commitment or a broader context. And yet, in my experience, they are very different. The fun sexual encounter is just that, fun. It’s an emotionally light, physically pleasant way to pass the time. In contrast I’ve experienced incredibly intense emotions in sessions. I’ve been pushed into places I never knew existed, and headspaces that left me buzzed and happy for days. There’s an intensity to BDSM play that can work well even without the richer emotional context of a deep relationship.

Given a lot of this post featured pro-dommes along with a food metaphor, I thought this would be a particularly apt image to use. This is Mona Rogers, a pro-domme from NYC, feeding dinner to one of her slaves. I don’t think he’s getting a tasting menu. If you’d like to try that rather cool doggy helmet our for yourself, her contact information is here.

Manscaping with Cybill Troy

Here’s a fun sequence of action shots. They feature nurse Cybill B Troy very kindly helping out a gentleman with his personal grooming. Judging from the redness on his chest and armpits it’s clear this has been a fairly major work of topiary. I know there a different waxing styles, perhaps they should call this one the Full Cybill?

I’ve never suffered this extent of body hair removal, but I did have a fairly painful experience involving duct tape. The mistress (Lady Lydia) had wrapped me in it prior to some heavy CBT and breathplay. Two or so hours later I’m feeling very spacey and happy at the ‘end’ of the session. Then the duct tape starts coming off, together with large chunks of hair from my arms and legs. It’s one thing getting tortured when you’re braced and ready for it. Quite another when you’re relaxed and unwound, expecting at any moment to rejoin the real world. Lydia was of course delighted by this particular turn of events and laughed throughout the removal.

The image comes from this set on the Den of Iniquity site. There’s also a video in their members section to go with it. If you’re not a fan of edge play you may want to click carefully, the image set contains a lot of needle shots and a little blood.

As a complete aside, I just noticed that the wikipedia page on waxing has this comment on the Brazilian – “some believe can become more unpleasant if receiving cunnilingus from a bearded partner.” How random is that? It even has multiple footnotes to support the comment. Weird. Still, if you’re a lady with a bearded partner and you’re contemplating a Brazilian, now you know. Either everyone’s hair has to go, or it all has to stay.

Mmmph! Mmmph!

Mistress Troy Orleans has a new blog post up about gags, with a long list of gag types and a nice picture of some of the examples in her collection. The part of her post I particularly liked was this section.

Open mouth gags, such as my preferred variety, the Spider Gag, are my favorite of all gags (piss friendly gags a close, and similar, second) because usually when someone’s gagged, he’s also pretty strictly bound, and that makes me drool and where better for it to go than his mouth? (Not that deposited fluids are at all limited to spit. Or mine.). Another plus for me with the Spider Gag is hearing his teeth click against the metal. It just sounds really uncomfortable and unpleasant there’s something so hot to me about a guy enduring not-sexy pain for my pleasure.
Mistress Troy Orleans

That kind of forced consumption is always a major kink of mine. It manages to be both very personal and objectifying all at the same time. Plus, there’s something equally hot about a woman enjoying my suffering of non-sexy pain. Of course if I’m enjoying it, albeit by proxy, doesn’t that make it sexy pain? I guess that’s the eternal conundrum of the masochist sadist relationship.

When it comes to doling out non-sexy pain my mind immediately went to dental scenarios. Here’s an interesting looking gag, a well stretched tongue and a devilish glint in a dentists eye. Maybe I’m just not trusting enough, but I’m not entirely sure she’s been board certified.

The logo on the image is for the serious bondage site, but I believe the domme is Alice and it’s from her BondageLand site.

Fire! Fire! Fire!

(Post title to be read in your best Beavis voice).

I’m feeling a little on edge today as a result of a session I did last Friday with Lady Lydia. The session itself was a fantastic one, which is no surprise when Lydia is involved. However, it did leave me with a rather interesting and/or frustrating (depending on your point of view) short term side effect.

We were playing with heat and burning, with a bunch of surgical staples thrown into the mix just for added fun. For the heat Lydia used several different approaches, including wax candles and sparklers (very pretty), but the bulk of burning was done with an electric soldering iron. By applying the tip to the skin she could pop skin cells, resulting in an audible zap as the cell fluid boiled, and delivering a sharp jolt of pain to me. It created an interesting headspace, as the pain was sharp, but very localized and of short duration. It was quite difficult to zone out to, as it was almost a drip like effect, delivering small blasts of sensation with an irregular periodic timing as she worked across the skin. At the same time being decorated and creatively modified (as I’ve posted about before) is a very intense and emotive experience.

While the session itself was wonderful, the side effect was to leave small scabbing burns all across my chest and genitals. The chest marks are fine, but lines of burns on my cock means that rubbing it vigorously is probably a bad idea. I don’t fancy a scarred dick, so I’m going to have to leave it to heal and remains hands off for a week or two. I realize that for some guys (e.g. Thumper or Tom Allen) a couple of weeks of enforced chastity is fairly trivial, but I’m really not used to it. And the fact I physically could jerk off, but know that I really shouldn’t, makes it additionally frustrating. Don’t be surprised if I start posting pictures of baseball players in an effort to avoid stimulating material.

I do have some shots of the after effects, but I really should emphasize caution before clicking. The chest one is fairly innocuous, but the other two are very explicit and not for the squeamish. If you are the kind of crazy person that for some weird reason doesn’t want to see close-ups of burns on the male genitalia, then please don’t click. I’m very proud of the marks, but I’m sharing them here only for educational value. Those of you that choose to put your genitals into the hands of a creative sadist with a soldering iron will at least now know what’s liable to happen. Here’s the chest shot. This is the cute design Lydia put on my balls. And here’s a shot of the burns to the cock. There are actually 4 distinct lines up the shaft and and a ring around the edge of the glans.

A hint of vanilla revisited

This is a follow-up post to this earlier one. I received several lengthy comments, including a response from Mistress Rex which she re-posted to her blog. I started to write a detailed comment as a reply, but decided it’d be easier to simply create a new post. Apologies to those people who weren’t particularly interested in the original discussion to start with. I promise to include an attractive picture at the end by way of compensation.

I want to start with the ‘my way or the highway’ aspect.

Pro Dommes who state from the get-go what is expected in communication – whether it’s as simple as how she is addressed to the more complicated issues of capitalization – it is entirely in her right and reason to do so…
…if it bothers you, find someone else.
Mistress Rex

I think that’s simultaneously true and also irrelevant to the discussion. It’s an argument that taken to its logical extreme would mean never writing about negotiation and interaction with pro-dommes, because the answer can always be “If you don’t like it go elsewhere.” Obviously what I’m writing about here are my personal feelings and expectations. The kind of interaction that I find meaningful and reasonable. I’ve certainly voted with my feet in the past and no doubt will do so again in future. This discussion is about some of the things that might cause me (and other submissives) to do that.

I should also add that I’m not talking about the kind of rules that are necessary for the smooth running of a business. Only calling between certain hours, requiring a reference or deposit, meeting in a neutral space for the first time, etc. These all are sensible operating parameters, and don’t imply anything about the D/s dynamic.

The issue for me is related to the sentiment that coined the expression “I may be a submissive, but I’m not your submissive.” This expression often crops up in the context of social gatherings, where it’s important to emphasize that submission to one dominant does not imply submission to all. For me that same idea can also be applied temporally. Just because I will submit in a session doesn’t automatically imply I should be submissive and deferential outside it.

It is unclear to me if the comments here are in objection to inequality wholesale, or if the men here feel more simply that the demands from these ProDommes were displaced via the lack of personalized attention toward the defining of a unequal power exchange.
Mistress Rex

I’d say my objection is to an assumption of inequality without negotiation or agreement. Refinement and evolution of roles is always going to happen as a relationship (professional or otherwise) develops. But I start from a position of equality. I think it’d be presumptuous of either party to assume otherwise. I might be a submissive, but I’m not her submissive until we agree that. Anyone insisting on lower casing my name and pronouns before they’ve even met me, simply strikes me as insecure. And insisting slaves email multiple times to get a response doesn’t put me into a suitably submissive mindset. It just makes me think that the mistress is crap at running her business.

I’ll also add that there was one comment I saw which, in contrast to Mistress Rex’s thoughtful words, struck me as fairly daft.

When men pay, they feel like they have license to top from the bottom.

Firstly, that’s a ridiculously sweeping generalization. And secondly, it misses the point of this discussion, which is about what goes on outside of negotiated play.

That’s probably enough of my random ramblings. As promised here’s an attractive and entirely unrelated picture to finish the post. It’s not really femdom material, but I saw it on Erotic Haecceities and thought she was adorably cute.