Category Archives: The Spanking Factory
I went to the mall today. December 20th. It was hell, but not for any of the reasons you think.
I’m not really a mall person, but go occasionally because they have all the things a girl needs, like The Lego Store, The Apple Store, A giant Sephora, Fredrick’s of Hollywood and, for todays trip down the rabbit hole, a sprawling Victoria’s Secret. The Mall in December? That would usually be a Hell No. All that shit is available on line where I can shop in my underwear with a drink in one hand.
But unfortunately I had procrastinated myself into a corner. A client had brought me several bra’s from Vickey’s and had grossly miss-underestimated The Ladies needs. Today was about the last day I could exchange them with a straight face.
I use my iPhone for baby distracting while I shop. I admit it. I have spent much time and many dollars ensuring that he has access to the best educational apps, and he quickly scrolls passed them to launch youtube and watch Russian Tractor Videos.
One of the most popular requests in the dungeon is spanking. If spanking makes you think of naughty children and angry parents at their wits end because HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I ASKED YOU NOT TO…. let me paint another picture.
You’ve been caught. At what? It doesn’t matter. You could try to talk your way out of it, but you know it will only make matters worse. You feel your pants being pulled down, exposing your underwear. You are brought gently, but firmly across a lap. You feel a hand running across your ass straightening your panties. You feel several slow, light, warm up slaps. The hands grabs your ass. Squeezes gently. Another slap, slightly harder. Fingers explore that sensitive area where your ass cheeks meet your thighs and then run up your crack tracing a little X. It’s a light touch, but very sensual … and followed by several more firm slaps. Underwear is pulled up between your ass cheeks pulling the front of them tight against your clit in the sexiest wedgie ever….
There is something titillating about playing out in public. The threat of getting caught in a compromising situation, or having someone notice their slave collar is highly erotic. Sometimes it’s as simple as wearing diapers under their cloths or a very pale lip gloss, or as obvious as having to pay for a coffee with hands sporting brightly colored nails. It’s very individual, and sometimes very subtle. I have a client who gets a huge thrill from being out in public in jeans because in his mind, anyone seeing him in tight Levi’s instead of his customary slacks would know for certain that he was a kinky cock hungry twink out on the prowl.
Because, obviously. You know. No one else wears tight jeans.
Sometimes there is no understand the male mind. Sometimes you just need to play along.
At first I thought F would be the obvious, F is for Fetish. Then I started thinking about all of the fetishes I had dealt with in the past from simple stockings fetishist, to the stocking fetishist who only wanted to see me in white stockings… smashing maraschino cherries with my toes, and realized, fetishes is a book, not a blog post.
So F is for Financial Domination. Which yes. Is a real thing. A real, beautiful, confusing thing. If you want to see the best financial domination site ever, and really, one of my favorite blogs, check out www.BitchyBeauty.com. Princess Sierra has perfected the art of humiliating men for giving her money. Yes. You read the right. They give her money. She laughs at them for it. They give her more money. Her blog is pretty hilarious. And makes me wish I was heartless enough to destroy someone financially for my own gain.
Not that I haven’t made some wallets hurt in my time.
One of the mini break out panel that I attended was a round table discussion lead by A. V. Flox about Sex and Erotica Writing. After a fun conversation, we were were given the prompt of “She walked into a darkened room…” and a few minutes to write. I was a bit terrified as I’m usually the kind of writer that needs a moment to look at my inbox, and read some blogs, and maybe do some on-line shopping before I finally write out a post that has been bouncing around in my brain the previous couple of days.
This could also be why it can be so hard for me to get a post a day up because generally somewhere between looking at my inbox and Amazon, I’m interrupted and that post never gets out.
This is cut and paste from my iPad. Not bad! I hope others in the group also post theirs!
You are carrying your groceries to the car and trip in your new heels and fall on your ass. Embarrassment.
You are carrying your groceries to the car and trip in your new heels and fall on your ass and the bag boy who looks like Christian Bale catches you and holds you tight. Erotic Embarrassment.
You go out with your partner and just as your arrive at the restaurant, you realize the dress you are wearing is a little more see through then you thought. Embarrassment.
Your spends dinner telling you how much it turns them on. Erotic Embarrassment.
Watch Magic Mike and pussy gets wet. Embarrassment.
Watching Magic Mike and partner slips fingers inside panties and appreciates that wetness verbally. Erotic Embarrassment.
As a Professional Dominatrix, I get a lot of requests for humiliation and erotic embarrassment. It can be one of the hardest, most mentally challenging games to play.
Last month I received my fabulous new Wonder Woman harness and Goodfella dildo and wrote a little review of my initial impression. Then I took it to the dungeon for a more thorough testing. Over all, my initial impression where totally spot on. The balls are awesome and the harness holds them firmly in place. However, I still, even more so, wish the Goodfella was a bit bigger.
Mistress hates being in the dungeon and finding out that her cock is smaller then that of her submissive. It’s like showing up to a party in the same dress as the hostess, your arch rival from high school. Except perhaps, even more uncomfortable.
Thankfully, my clients are generally so happy to be in the room with me wearing a dick, that they don’t notice. It’s just me hanging my head in shame and they don’t notice because they can’t take their eyes off my amazaBALLS!
First, a long session with a new client. Lots of mental play getting into his head, then physical play acting upon my findings.
Then, a long session with a regular that I know well, and was able to take it easy physically, but it was as always, mentally taxing.
At least I have paid for my blogher trip with enough left over for some fancy cocktails and a Disney trip sidecar.
Hopefully I won’t be too tired to enjoy them with all the working my ass off to pay for them. As of right now I haven’t even started packing and all I want to do is hug the Monkey and go to bed.
At least I was able to go over the blogher schedule while my client was in bondage.
I am a sex worker. I have been for a long, long time. And while I’m a Dominatrix now, and have been for many years, I have dipped my toes in pretty much all branches of sex work to see which fit me best. I don’t feel bad about the ones that didn’t work. They just didn’t fit. I have no guilt about accepting money for strange and perverted sexual activities.
I’ve been paid to dress as a super hero. To take my cloths off. To pretend to be their mommy and change their adult size diaper. To take my cloths off again. To dress up as a nun. To dress up as a school teacher. To dress up as a Doctor. To dress up as their boss. To dress in warm scratchy sweaters or slick black vinyl. To wear vintage stockings and heels most women readily admit to not being able walk in.
Yesterday, for Mothers Day, since I’m an airhead, I spent the day in the dungeon. Over a month ago, I scheduled this session with my panty slave who comes from out of town and had made air and hotel reservations by the time I realized my mistake. And since I had already booked something with one slave, I went ahead and booked a session with my darling sweater fetishist as well. Two long sessions would, after all, go a long way to financing my Mother Day trip to Disneyland which was what I REALLY wanted for Mothers Day anyway.
Plans were made and play was negotiated. Both slaves has a variety of interests and I’ve known each for several years. They are both terribly submissive and looking forward to an afternoon in the dungeon being dominated.
I’m sure you, dear reader are conjuring up images of dark leather filled room filled with screams of pain. Truthfully, so was I. Both sessions went awry though, reminding me, once again of what I’ve known for years.