Friday, July 29, 2005
These shots are from a long, involved bondage session and shoot...
Lots of rope and wine were utilized (well, the rope by my slave and the wine by me), dark moody music was playing in the background, and I just wanted to do something different... so I pulled the futon away from its frame and moved it down into the bed position. Then I instructed my slave to put on his latex hood, and lay down, spread-eagled. I put on some dark, moody music, dimmed the lights, and got to work.
Doing bondage in the dark is no fun. The ropes get hopelessly tangled, and the result is always less than physically pleasing to me. So I looked around (the overhead flourescent light would have been too harsh) and saw my candles - boxes of them - and got an idea. I found a bag of Ikea tealights (as always, large corporations are always thrilled to get a mention on my bdsm blog... apologies, I absolutely loooove Ikea) and grabbed a box of matches. I lit the entire bag full and placed them - not in the lovely outline you see in the photo - but just around my "work" area. So I could see (well, okay, just see a little). Mystery isn't a bad thing...
I started with a cock and balls tie - to lift and separate - and to keep the mood flowing. Then the web of rope was woven, all while my slave relaxed inside his latex hood. Nothing required, just relax.
It took about an hour to get him fully restricted, then I wanted to photograph my masterpiece. But the low light level proved problematic. I decided to take the candles that had heretofore just been providing low lighting for rigging, and use them as a "Ring of Fire"... I carefully placed each one on the wooden slats around his body, careful that he could feel the heat but would not be burned, and also that no rope was in danger of catching fire (take that, Smokey Bear).
The results were striking, visually and sensorally.
After photos were taken, he was allowed to stay in this position for another 30 minutes. Then it was time to begin untying. Pools of red and black rope spilled from my hands to my feet. Once he was entirely untied I asked him to first sit, then stand (as he had been laying prone and still for so long, the drop in blood pressure can be severe if you go from that position to standing too quickly).
He had been sweating during the bondage. Nothing unusual about that. Except that as his body dried while the untying was taking place, he had become slightly stuck to the wooden surface. And the slats - while not even slightly uncomfortable while he was in his bondage bliss - were now like nails in his back. He could feel the long ends of each deep in his skin. Verrry slowly he sat up and showed me his back, asking what it looked like...
It was lovely indeed. I brought around a mirror so he could admire them as well - and he did. In fact, he insisted on this purrticular pose as a final shot.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Once upon a time, I was corset-training. Wearing a corset day in and day out, and a special one overnight.
I loved what the corset did for my figure - to this day, my waist is proportionally smaller than most women - but I really hated wearing the damn thing. Corset training made me really cranky because I am a woman who really likes to move... to dance, to run, to stretch... and those things are quite difficult to do when corsetted. Not to mention eating. I'm pretty sure that my growing thyroid doesn't help matters much, as I'm occasionally out of breath just from the windpipe constriction...
But I was in my early twenties when I first corsetted seriously, and in the earliest stages of my fetish education. There wasn't much around at that time for reference, and certainly less that was "modern" - most references were from either the 50s or the 1900s. I had more patience then...
While I have a great regard for those who take on full-time corset training (or other serious body modifications), it's just not for me. I prefer the painful pleasure of the high-heeled shoe or boot on a regular basis than the constriction of the corset around my waist. I do love to put slaves into this sort of predicament - whether they are feminized or not - even with a rope corset tied tightly around their midsection.
There is indeed little like the feeling when a corset is removed - slowly, deliberately, please! - and the flesh is allowed to expand. The lovely marks on the back from where the lacings were, the imprint of the busk on the abdomen.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Some of the most extreme reactions in a dungeon setting don't always occur when harsh pain is being inflicted, outrageous humiliation, nor even in the face of overwhelming degredation.
Try touching someone's toes.
I've known purrfectly relaxed and happy slaves that simply jump out of their skin when their toes are touched - even the slightest breeze caused by my fingers coming close can set some of them off.
So toe bondage is a touchy area (pun, of course, intended). There is first the issue of cramping, which is very real, and can be quite uncomfortable for the bondage-ee, and force an early end to a session as I'm not generally inclined to massage a slaves foot to stop the cramps unless absolutely, positively necessary (i.e., their foot starts to change into strange, unnatural shapes). So usually, untying at this point is the only way to go so they can un-cramp. Grrrrr.
Stretching of the toes is a very unusual concept for many folks. We walk on our feet every second of every day, yet rarely do we stretch the toes. Even if we stretch as part of an exercise program, the little piggies usually get left out and are un-stretched. So pulling apart the toes for placing in bondage, just from a stretch-y standpoint, can be difficult for some slaves.
Then there is the tickle factor. Even un-ticklish folks can be wildly ticklish when that first piece of rope is placed between two toes. Yes, I generally encourage such things, as I know that tickling can be as much of a torture as beating... and after the first few evil giggles of my own I have to grab the foot to keep it still so that the bondage is done properly.
And of course, it really looks pretty...
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Yes, I was a Barbitchuette.
What is a Barbitchuette you ask? She is one of an elite group of dancers that purrformed with the band Sleep Chamber. We were notorious in Boston (and beyond) for our wild shows, where the ladies would interact both with each other and the lead singer, John Zewizz.
I remember when I first got involved with them, I had been a fetish purrformer (starting out in the goth scene - of course!) and had been making a name for myself at the Cambridge club, Man Ray (which is going to close on July 31 - I cannot believe it) and caught the eye of Laura Graff, fetish photographer, purrformer, and fellow Barbitchuette. Laura was an amazing person, someone I always loved dearly, but someone clearly on an unmovable, destructive path. She passed away on my birthday several years ago, and I'll always miss her.
Laura had literally grabbed me - she was just starting out as a fetish photographer and needed models. Happy to do it! Then she needed more girls for one of the Sleep Chamber shows... happy to do that too! Soooo many people had warned me to stay away from Sleep Chamber and that group of people - that they were weird, that they did hard drugs, that they were just dangerous - but I've never felt so at home with a group of people ever. Not that there weren't always drugs or other temptations around, there always were, but such a cool, dark group of people being creative.
We literally made almost nothing for every show, because there wasn't much money to be made - the band was small, but add in another 5-10 girls and the payments were tiny. Sometimes they were nothing. Not that it mattered, I did it because I loved doing it - showing off onstage has always been a huge thrill for me, and add in dancing and playing with other sexy women in fetish gear..... fun fun fun!
We did huge shows (The Limelight) and tiny ones (The Middle East), played big clubs and little ones. Toured through Germany and around the US. Our German tour was the beginning of the end, as John's addictions grew. We were shipped all over the country playing sold out gigs in Berlin, Munich, Stuttgart, Hamburg, Augsberg (where they had an amazing fetish festival that I won't soon forget)... We were on German TV, everyone loved us, but we were still living out of the back of a van with no daily stipend (that meant I survived by stealing candies - Haribo - macht kinder froh - from gas stations), and a lead singer who was completely zonked out on methadone. He actually fell asleep onstage in Heidelberg (at the university) which wasn't funny at the time but seems pretty hilarious now.
While we were never a huge success financially, John was prolific with putting out CDs on the German label Funfundvierzig.
But like many things, drugs giveth and they taketh away. John fully descended into a heroin addiction that - to my knowledge - still eats him to this day, and nothing creative has been done since.
While I could never go back or would never purrform in those conditions again, it was a great, great time in my life that shaped a lot of who I am today. I wouldn't give up my time as a Barbitchuette for anything in the world...
At that time, I was known as Lulu...
Monday, July 25, 2005
An exquisite gift from a very dedicated slave (who I have not heard from in ages, it's a pity) quite some time ago. One of my most beautiful items I own, and chosen well (how could I not love something called a tomcat??).
The Tomcat is essentially a singletail - with many tails. It has a handle like a snake whip, very fast and flexible, and instead of just having one long tail with which to inflict damage it has many smaller, tighter, nastier ones. And little knots at the very ends. It is an amazing piece of workmanship - made of red and black kangaroo leather and purrfectly balanced.
It's a toy that takes a bit of getting used to - most of the other Mistresses that I have allowed to handle it have immediately used it more like a flogger. Which works, of course, but does not take advantage of the extended range that this toy provides.
Some dear friends of mine run De Tails Toys and make a similar toy called the Flipcat for those BDSM folks ready to move up from the standard floggers to something really painful and fun. They are fine artisans and cool folks - Skye and I met many years ago when we were both plying our trade at the Nutcracker Suite in NYC, and lucky girl, I dragged her with me through Germany when I was touring as a Barbitchuette with the fetish band, Sleep Chamber. And somehow she still likes me....
Friday, July 22, 2005
Several people have written to me recently wanting to share their Katja Minx artworks with me.
Sounds fabulous! I'm looking forward to seeing them...
Feel free to send me either digital files (to firstname.lastname@example.org) or originals (as you wish, address provided by my slave Puss at email@example.com), I'd love to share them with the world.
Ok, hold onto your vodka (my purrsonal drink of choice when I imbibe) everyone...
It's time for a little Pigsploitation!
Diving Pig To Set Record
Where Pigs Fly
I wish I had a good reason why this stuff fascinates me today - other than that I was looking for porn and somehow stumbled onto this. What did I do before the internet??
OK, I know this video has been around for awhile... but as I was running through my blog and rereading my German Shepherd bondage post, I thought about this video, and how much I really, really love watching it:
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
What a great control issue for someone like me - a Control Freak of the highest order - having a slave on his knees, masturbating along with my directions, begging for purrmission to cum. And having it be denied, or prolonged...
Many slaves can't take it of course, and in many cases that's the point. Over the years I've used this simple manipulation trick in order to get a purrticularly annoying client out of my dungeon. "Purrmission granted" are those golden words that he's anxious to hear, but not nearly as happy as I am to say. Very little drops a slave out of subspace as neatly or as quickly as being allowed to ejaculate. Especially as most slaves that a professional Domina sees aren't really slaves... hey, there's nothing wrong with indulging in a bit of kink now and then, and that's the vast bulk of any Domina's clientele.
So being allowed to "finish" is a key component in many sessions - and in some cases, inevitable despite my demanding that it does not occur.
One of my very favorite games involves this very action - a lucky slave, who has purrformed well during the past hours may be allowed to play. It begins with me reinforcing - during the session - that the slave will only be allowed to masturbate if he does all that I say during the session. Something that he can focus on, a carrot being dangled if you will. When that fateful time comes, I instruct him to kneel on the floor in front of me and I produce a towel, which I lay out in front of him on the floor.
This is how the game works:
On my command, the slave will begin to masturbate. As he does, I will be counting backwards from 10. As I reach 10, I will fold the towel in half. Then the counting begins again. And lets face it, I'm counting with dramatic flair and quite quickly. At every 10, the towel gets smaller and smaller. When the towel can be folded no more, it is taken away.
Oh, did I mention the most fun part of this game? Silly me.
Yes the slave is allowed to cum - by asking for purrmission first, of course - but every last drop has to hit that towel. Which is getting smaller every 10 seconds or so - beginning from a fully open towel area to, oh, nothing. And if he misses even one drop? He has to lick it up.
Needless to say, this exercise definitely increases a slaves focus and ability to control his ejaculate. And it's a helluva lot of fun for me.
Which is all that matters, yes?
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Hot pink leather thigh boots with 7" heels... ah, sounds simply yummy...
Not for long walks (except on errant slaves), more suitable to spending the day in the
dungeon or seated working on fetish blogs... these are really great, crocodile-type leather with needle heels!
As always, please let my secretary Puss know when you are sending items (firstname.lastname@example.org) so we can expect them! She will also give you the best address to be sure that the items arrive...
It's in an artist's building on the outskirts of LA's Chinatown, in a quiet building with other eclectic (non-kinky for the most part) folks. It's tiny... but relatively inexpensive. It catches my fancy to have a little spot to play and take photos in. Great creaky old staircases. A ridiculous number of people looking at it because space is at such a premium here in LA. (All of the great old buildings are being turned into high-priced "artists lofts" and condos. So you can live/work in a large-ish, very "designed" space for ridiculously high rents and still step over drunken homeless as you leave your place, hoping that your car hasn't been smashed or stolen so that you can drive the several miles necessary to get to a grocery store). No working lights yet. A hot tattooed dyke showing me the place, making me feel really comfortable. I miss taking BDSM photos. I miss having my own space to tie people up and do nasty things to them.
I needed to make a decision quickly. Would this be the place where Kismet would be resurrected?
As I think about it more seriously I cannot help but remember that I have a TON of fetish equipment and furniture. Some of which would barely fit in through the door, much less have a happy home inside. It would be more of a storage space than a place to create great fetish art.
Maybe I'll just hang on until I get out of this god-forsaken city of Angels... my quest continues for a livable city with cool people and a decent standard of living. That's where I'll hang my (leather) hat.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Of course it is. Yet people all around the world fall for this every single day. Here's a link to an article - news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20050716/wr_nm/nigeria_fraud_dc - that gives you an idea of the extent of the problem.
But the title of this little post is Fun with Nigerians...
http://sweetchillisauce.com/nigeria.html This site is great fun when you have a little time to kill. It is the correspondence between Nigerian scammers and one crazy Australian guy - where he pretends to be different "marks" and gives you all the back and forth letters. It's really hilarious -- Sigmund Freud is one of my favorites, and a good place to start, also Don Quixote and Princess Tikka Masala.
I've been amazed over the years at some of the choices that some Mistresses have made for session music - loud, bangy things that have ridiculous screaming, or silly, obvious "scene" music (NIN and Enigma come to mind here).
I've always been an admirer of instrumental music as well as world music - I find that it's the rhythm, not the melody, that is what can best transport a slave's mood from the everyday to the extraordinary. I just hate songs for sessions. I want an extended soundtrack, not songs that begin and end, sucking the energy out of the room.
Instrumental comes in many forms - it's hardly just about classical music (which can be soothing, but is generally not rhythmic enough for my taste) - there is a lot of heavier, industrial instrumental music as well as some of the more gothic stuff that heightens the senses (without the annoying gothic female vocals - more on that in a bit), preparing a slave for some punishment to be inflicted.
I really like middle eastern and asian music tho - the rhythms are really incredible, and much of it relies on its silences as well as its tones. It is here that I will tolerate the occasional vocal, because I cannot understand the language it is not jarring to my ears. I have some wonderful CDs that are full of middle eastern music, chinese music, indian drumming, belly dance music (!) that - when playing in proper order - create an incredible ambiance for a session.
I mentioned annoying female vocals for session music - there is one major exception to that rule. Enya. Yes, I know, it's not something that I listen to on a daily basis either. But when used specifcally for this purpose it's really amazing. After spending hours in bondage with mere whisps of music, slowly turning on Book of Days really is the soundtrack to the chrysalis opening and the butterfly emerging.
Try it sometime - be conscious about your choice of music when you play - see what a difference it makes, how the rhythm speeding up and slowing down effects what you do.
Yet another weapon in your sensory arsenal...
Friday, July 15, 2005
I went from a zero page rank to a 4 today on this blog... and my website (which has been around forever) is still only a 3 (ok, Google, maybe you are bastards).
Unless you have a website, you could probably care less about what a page rank is. But for those of us who do, you know it's a very, very important thing that makes it easier for like-minded purrverts to find you! Purrhaps I could purrsuade some purrverts at Google, through subtle and not-so-subtle manipulation that a manipulation of my page rankings (to oh, at least a 9 - for my 9 Lives) would be in order...
The funniest thing is to look at the Way Back Machine http://www.archive.org/web/web.php to see what your website looked like years ago... how things have changed. Before I started katja-minx.com, I had many other smaller sites advertising my wares, usually just one-page things with a few pictures, but I was always really aware of design. I was definitely one of the first Dominas to use this new medium - this is back in the days of Mosaic (ok, I'm dating myself here), just when AOL was a brand-new thing, and you paid for slow internet access by the HOUR. With a 14.4 modem. Not that there was much to see...
I have never, ever paid anyone to make a site for me. I'm proud of that - teaching myself how to use the computer and then html and then photography - so that my vision comes across as purely as possible. And yes, I do all of my own web work, I take all of my own photos, do all of my own updates, style all of my own shoots...
Can you say Control Freak? I certainly can...
Thursday, July 14, 2005
I'm always happy to pass along info about events/issues effecting the BDSM community, or for animal (especially cats, dogs, and big cats) issues.
While I can't say that over the years I've felt all warm and fuzzy and a part of any BDSM "community" (in fact quite the opposite - many folks that I've come into contact with in the BDSM arena have tried, and some succeeded, in stabbing me in the back numerous times), I really do know how difficult it is to get the word out about events, parties, or just things you're doing... so feel free to email your announcements to me and if relevant, I'll post 'em. I also put a notice up in my Yahoo group - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/mistresskatjaminxsdungeon - which currently has over 10,000 members, one of the largest Mistress groups there ever (at least it was for some time, I have no idea if it still is!).
I'm always trying to build up good karma - which is why I feed my local stray cats and post PSAs - to absolve myself of past naughtiness (who, innocent little me?).
L.A. FUK NIGHT OUT !!
Tuesday July 19th, 2005
7:30 PM - 10:00 PM
The Bungalow Club
7174 Melrose Ave
Los Angeles, CA 90046
Two blocks west of La Brea
L.A. FUK, Los Angeles Females United in Kink,
is a group for women who participate in the Los Angeles area
BDSM/Leather Community/Lifestyle, regardless of role
(Domme, switch, bottom, sub, slave, girl, boi, pup, Top, etc)
or sexual orientation (straight, bi, lesbian).
Transgendered people who identify primarily as female are also welcome.
We foster communication, friendship and sisterhood by providing a place
for women interested in this lifestyle to get to know each other socially
and cultivate positive loving friendships with one another.
Please won't you join us?
If you've been looking for a new furry friend and are in the Southern California area, this Saturday the East Valley Los Angeles Animal Shelter is celebrating Animal Independence Day!
Saturday, July 16th
10 a.m. - 5 p.m.
Discounted Adoption Rates
Free Gift Bags for Adopters
Dog Trainers! Adoption Counselors!
Find a new friend - shelter animals are the best because they really need you and show so much love!
East Valley Los Angeles Animal Shelter
13131 Sherman Way
email@example.com or visit www.rhala.org
Please feel free to spread this information to any others who might be interested!
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
That's really exactly what it feels like when you have thyroid disease and you're in what I call the "Riding the Hormone Highway" phase. Because my body cannot produce the correct amount of thyroid hormones anymore (hey, can I help it if even my thyroid gland is yummy?) I supplement with synthetic hormones. The problem with this theory is that the human body is a finely-tuned machine, able to release and regulate the flow of hormones as needed. The pituitary gland looks around, makes a decision, and tells the thyroid gland what to do.
When you're only supplementing the same dose every day, you're bound to be out of whack from time to time (something I can be *quite rightly* accused of), and windpipe constriction, tightness, fogginess, and low blood pressure all result. That's me today.
I cannot concentrate enough to put together a proper posting today because of this... forgetting words as I write them leads to a pretty sloppy post so I'll make this short but sweet.
So here is my moment to tell all 30-something women (and men!) out there to get their thyroid function checked at their next doctor exam. It's a simple TSH blood test (even me, hating needles as I do, can handle it). It may save you years of trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. I have thyroid auto-immune disease, yours may be less serious, but most women will have some thyroid-related problem in their lifetimes, so why suffer?
You can thank me later.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
But I love play piercing slaves.
Ah, the feeling of a needle breaking into the delicate skin of the penis... the picture above illustrates the beginning of a long scene involving needles. My little devil horns were to illustrate just how hot it was getting for that slave that evening. It was late and he had arrived late (something I detest as I'm incredibly punctual) and I was annoyed. Sitting around in my vinyl catsuit, a new box of needles in my hand. Because of the issues involved I generally never kept a large supply of needles in my dungeon - I didn't want anyone to find them and think I was up to no good (especially when my purrposes were quite innocent - relatively speaking) - so I had to procure them for this evening specially.
Sitting there, fully encased in shiny black pvc, toes tapping on the cold dungeon floor. Finally, finally he arrived. Luckily (in this case) atmosphere meant nothing to this slave, he was only interested in the raw pain of the needles in his skin. No buildup, no special lighting, no music (except whatever I happened to be playing in the background), no incense. In other words, none of the things that usually make my sessions intense.
Just raw pain.
I placed a length of plastic underneath him and tied him down just because I always do - a slave in pain may lash out at me and this barrier of rope has saved me on several occasions - and then got right down to business. Starting with his cock, a long line of needles piercing horizontally down its shaft. Then moving to the balls, the remainder of the box being inserted, one by one, each one causing him to draw in his breath and take in the air slowly, his heart to speed up, and his skin being to moisten. Endorphins enveloping his body.
In his case, he stays in this position for about an hour. Then it's needle removal time! I instructed him to take a few deep breaths, then I hold the skin taut and quickly begin to pull out the needles in rapid succession. It's a final burst of pain and intensity (not to mention dexterity and aim - I have to get those little suckers back into a cardboard box as I pull each one out), and as the last needle is liberated I instructed him to grab his cock and masturbate, giving him purrmission to cum. Little drops of blood everywhere, and the sensation when his sweaty, salty hand touched his bloody cock caused him to cum almost immediately.
Looks soooo innocent in the picture, though, doesn't it?
Monday, July 11, 2005
Contact me directly - firstname.lastname@example.org - it's been some time since I was last in London, I'm not so familiar with the Ladies there (from whom I could possibly rent session space) and would appreciate some recommendations.
I will also definitely be scheduling some time to visit the Vivienne Westwood boutique (yes shoe fans, you may be lucky enough to accompany me there and purrchase some shoes for me!) as well as some other fetish boutiques. A visit like this may include spending some time with me shopping then purrhaps either a session, a public spanking, or lunch... I will definitely take photos to share with the world of your adventure if you'd like.
So please send along (or post comments here) on where to go, what to see, and which Mistresses I really must meet when/if I'm in London!
If you want to be in my purrsonal blogroll (and appear on the right side of my screen everyday) or link to my main site with a banner exchange (www.katja-minx.com), just drop me an email:
I think I'm one of the handful of real Dominas who create their own blogs, and post all the time... I've seen a few others (which were quite nice) and a huge pile of ones that were not. I prefer to link with other kinky folks either in the BDSM scene, or other alternative sexuality scenes... to give my readers something interesting to chew on.
I got to practice my aim (which is generally good, especially after striking the balls repeatedly with the end of my cane), and got to inflict a brand-new type of pain on this purrticular cbt pain pig. He came to me asking for cock and ball torture - nothing else - and would be happy so long as the pain continued.
We can do that.
The tight tie coupled with the constant poking and smacking (he had never had his cock and balls tied before - imagine that, a cbt slut who had never been tied!) produced some truly lovely bruising, which he enjoyed immensely.
Of course it lent itself to a lot of great one-liners - 8 ball in the corner pocket!
And my purrsonal favorite, "Scratch!"
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Anyone want to make me smile?
Here are some great boots I just found on ebay that I'd love to have... at a discount!
Black leather, nice and high, the kind that I wear everyday... good for stomping on hapless slaves, of course, but as I do a lot of walking (well, ok, a lot of walking for someone living in LA - nothing compared to when I lived in Boston or NYC) I need these kiddos...
or just search for item number: 3984837335
If you want to purrchase these for me, email my new secretary (more about her this week!) at email@example.com and she will give you all the details! Her name is Puss, and she lives to serve...
Saturday, July 09, 2005
I've just been looking through my photo archives - print and digital - and it's really amazing! I've worked with so many photographers over the years, and then there have been the last few when I concentrated on developing my own photographic talents (well hell, I already had the model thing down after doing it for so long...). It was really fun to coordinate shoots, tie up some willing victims, put others into precarious poses... and then leave them there and get all dressed up in my fetish finery.
It's a good thing to be photogenic.
Pretty much all of the photos that I've posted (and that are on my website) are photos that I took myself - on AUTOTIMER! - with my trusty Olympus digital camera. Olympus, I'm sure you're thrilled to be having this product placement, having your fine products recommended alongside hardcore S&M photography - I love, love, love my Olympus. I wouldn't use any other brand of digital camera, ever. Back when I shared a dungeon space with another Mistress, she had a Sony Mavica - the hottest thing at the time - which took the shittiest pictures I've seen. But the camera had all the latest geegaws (even a nice lens), but somehow the pictures always came out muddy and unsatisfying (well to me anyway). Even before I had my present Olympus I had the "beginner" model from them - and it took far superior photos to the Mavica.
So if anyone wants to ever purrchase camera equipment for me, I'm an Olympus girl.
I'll be posting pictures from my archives here on my blog for awhile.... things you may or may not have already seen (as my photos have been ripped off all over the internet for a looooong time).
Friday, July 08, 2005
What happened? Where were all of you when I had my dungeon in Pasadena?
I'm not really taking many sessions these days - without my own studio I'm fairly limited anyway, but I really like to have all of my toys with me so dragging them around town to someone else's (usually pretty lousy, unclean, and/or ugly) studio doesn't excite me. So many things need to be "right" for me to session in the first place, hence the reason that I opened my own dungeons.
Purrhaps I'm a bit more esoteric than many other Mistresses, purrhaps I'm just an egotistical control freak. Most likely a bit of both. I have great difficulty sessioning in hotel rooms, white rooms with some dungeon equipment in them, and ugly dungeons. Kismet was spectacular - red lacquered walls with high, black ceilings, and one room in bright blue with black accents. Dramatic black curtains divided the main dungeon space from the entrance and seating area. A full shower, changing area, and bathroom. Fully equipped with suspension, exotic accoutrements not found everywhere else, slings, bondage tables and cages... If this can be said about a dungeon, it was really, really nice. As soon as you stepped inside, something happened to you - you knew that you were in a different place, out of your everyday life, which worked greatly to my advantage.
I drove past there yesterday - I just happened to be in Pasadena, and thought I'd see what had become of it. I was expecting absolutely nothing - from the outside, it was a non-descript white building.
Imagine my surprise when I saw that it had been turned into a 98 cent DISCOUNT STORE - one of those local shitholes where they sell more drugs than merchandise. I got out of my car intrigued, and walked inside. The entire space had been repainted, my walls torn down and repositioned to divide the space into two - an outer retail space, then something resembling a sweatshop in back. And it was BRIGHT WHITE.
I walked back to my car and actually cried. It's been quite some time since that space was mine - I had experienced an horrific flood (the toilet had literally exploded because of shoddy work in another unit) and then had my landlord not renew my lease - but it was a really special place, full of amazing energy and memories, and I had been really hoping that some artistic soul had taken it over. Boy, was I wrong.
I think that all of my recent nostalgia for having a studio was reinforced by that - it was really a slap in the face (and I'm the slap-er, never the slap-ee so I didn't enjoy it). Purrhaps sometime soon, somewhere far away, my own little piece of hell will once again be available for BDSM fun and frivolity...
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Bondage. Of course. Only this time it wasn't rope that enslaved my client, it was pallet wrap. Thick, stretchy, and exceedingly warm. I rolled him like a giant jelly roll in an inside layer, then used my handy roll of saran wrap (which I always use on a paint roller - didn't I tell you that Home Depot is Purrverts Paradise and that most of us strolling the aisles are up to no good?) to cover up any areas that were still exposed.
Nice and toasty.
For about 2 hours he laid there on my dungeon floor, all cozy and snug as a bug in a rug. His head was wrapped as well, but his entire face was exposed. As I expected him to be encased for some time, I didn't want to have to go back and unwrap any portions if the pressure on his head began to cause problems (I'm just always *thinking*, aren't I?).
I placed a small pillow under his head (the one tha tI have that says "You Dirty Rat" in needlepoint), - which he didn't even notice. He had fallen soundly asleep, arms tightly tucked to his sides, legs straight out. He looked so peaceful.
Well, we can't have that, now can we?
One of my cats, Kismet, was a fat orange tabby (he passed away several years ago - RIP Kizzie). It is for him that my dungeon is named. He was a super sweet cat, very playful, and very large (about 20 pounds). He walked into the main dungeon room, started to purr and rub against my leg. I thought, oh, he must be hungry (he was always hungry), and left the room to open a can.
Something happens to cats when you pick up a can. Any can. They get so trained and fixated on what is inside, and really, really excited. As I said, Kismet was a fat cat, purrticularly well-fed and happy for it. So I opened the can of Friskies.
And then had a stroke of brilliance.
I put down the can, much to Kismet's chagrin. He followed me out to the dungeon area. Without waking my client, I turned him over so that he was lying on his stomach, then took my safety scissors and cut a long, quick slash down his back through the pallet wrap, exposing his spine. As he began to stir, I took the can and my spoon and placed a careful line of wet, slippery cat food on his spinal cord. The entire length, from the top of his neck down to his ass.
He had been in a deep sleep, and this woke him slowly as he tried to figure out exactly where he was and what was going on. I told him to relax, be quiet, we weren't finished just yet. He was still bound by the heavy wrappings.
Kismet didn't waste a second - as soon as I stepped away from my client he jumped onto his back and began eating... and I began watching.
I asked my client to describe the experience after it happened (as I could only watch from this point on to see if this would work as I thought)... He said that the cutting of the wrap was like a cutting open of his body - a sudden rush of fresh, cold air felt like a knife was cutting the skin itself. Then to feel the cold wetness of the cat food (which he couldn't really smell from having his face in the pillow - too bad, that would have been an interesting addition) dripping down his spine, and just when that began to register feeling a heavy, furry cat jump onto his back - his sharp claws "kneading" into his skin, his weight holding him down, the brush of his dense whiskers - and the most intense thing was the feeling of Kismet's teeth biting into each piece of cat food, and his mouth opening and closing as it did so.
Without knowing it (and without my purrmission) he actually came inside the plastic wrap! Just as Kismet was right at the end of the cat food trail... at the top of his neck, where his head and neck meet.
He's said that it was the most intense sensory experience of his entire life.
And to all of my friends in London - please call or drop an email when you can - it's impossible for me to reach you and I want to be sure you're ok.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Especially rope fascinates me, it always has, and it's something that I've developed over the years - using traditional sources and techniques mixed with my own experimentation. I also knit, as anyone who has worked alongside me at any of the commercial dungeons where I have plyed my trade can attest, and this also fuels my bondage fires.
The sense of complete control over someone - restricting their breath, their movements - is powerful indeed, and something that I'd generally incorporate into most sessions, even if it was not the main focus.
Until a few years ago, I had an amazing German Shepherd - he was a massive dog, about 125 pounds, all muscle. Furry, gorgeous, and fiercely intelligent, I could walk the streets of NYC in the middle of the night with my dog at my side, no leash required, and he wouldn't so much as look off to the side as we walked, stride for stride. Intimidating? You betcha - folks would jump off the sidewalk to clear a path for this mighty beast. Sweet? Well not exactly - super sweet with me, guarded with strangers, dominating with other dogs. Answered to commands primarily in German. In other words, the absolutely right kind of animal you want to have by your side in this crazy world.
His name was Schnuff.
I would occasionally bring Schnuff with me into sessions - he has assisted in the training of many human "puppies"... that's a story for another time... and provided the right level of intimidation and realism that many of my sessions required.
Schnuff was exceedingly obedient and intelligent - it was simply impossible to train him to do stupid parlour tricks, he simply wasn't interested. He would look me in the eye as if to say "Oh come on, that's sooooo undignified"... yet still picking up the task if I insisted.
I generally had Schnuff somewhere in my dungeon in case of emergency. I'd be willing to bet that 99% of my clients had no idea.
Schnuff was involved in many sessions over the years, but one purrticular session sticks out as purrticularly special:
I had a bondage client alone in my dungeon. His first time with me. He was someone who was experienced, but not as experienced as he had let on (why do clients lie about their level of experience? why do we lie when we go to the doctor?), and after spending over an hour enveloping him in a web of rope and placing him into a leather bodybag, he had started to complain. To bitch, to whine, to start trying to manipulate me into untying here, loosening there....
Now I understand that a lot of clients are a bit like spoiled, prissy children - other "Mistresses" have let them get away with a lot, or they have been able to direct their sessions - but I'm a bit of a hardass. A Dominant. A Top.
The more he complained, the more irritated I got. He kept trying to untie himself (a challenge to me - "oh, I've never been in inescapable bondage, no one has ever been able to do that to me"), and instead Houdini managed to not only mess up my beautiful rope web but make the bonds even tighter! I wasn't willing to cut my beautiful ropes (I only do so in a medical emergency), so I bitch-slapped him and started to untie the ropes myself.
But first I called over Schnuff.
Schnuff sat next to me and looked down at my client. The look in my client's eyes was really priceless - not only was he afraid of dogs, but this one looked like he meant business. When he started to protest again, I stuck a towel in his mouth (thou doth protesteth too much, my dear) and got back to a neat, orderly, untying. The layers of rope came loose slowly (he had fucked it up royally by pulling and struggling), but as he couldn't bitch anymore with that towel in his mouth, I didn't feel purrticularly stressed about loosening him quickly. Once the ropes were completely off, he stood up quickly and again launched into his tirade that "he couldn't be held, had never been in inescapable bondage" and that I was just as bad at this as every other Mistress he had ever seen....
Now, some dogs are trained to not let someone in the house. A good technique to be sure, but still there are determined intruders who might try to get past even a good dog with a big steak, or some other treat.
Schnuff was trained to not let someone leave.
Even without my asking, Schnuff moved into position, slowly and non-aggressively, walking slowly toward my client who backed toward the corner.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked.
He complained again, this time including my dog. Who did I think I was, I couldn't be really dominant, blah blah blah...
So I instructed Schnuff not to let him leave.
Schnuff sat there, and every time my client tried to make a move away from the wall, he merely lifted his lip a tiny bit and let out the lowest, deepest slight growl. My client shrunk back against the wall.
"The more you complain, the longer I'll have him keep you there", I told him. And I sat down, pulled out a magazine, and began to read. About 30 minutes passed, the magazine was now fully absorbed, and I walked into the other room of my dungeon. Schnuff didn't move even a muscle, one ear turning toward the sound of my walking away was his only reaction.
"Don't leave me here!" my client screamed... "Not with this dog"!
"So, then you agree that you cannot escape from this bondage?" I said. "Schnuff doesn't have any other plans for the day, he can stay as long as you can".
"Yes! Yes! Yes! I agree! Inescapable bondage! I can't escape! Now get this dog away from me!!!!". He was actually crying now.
You can only begin to imagine how much I loved this. I called Schnuff, and he ran to my side, turned around, and sat down right next to me. I instructed my client to get dressed and get the hell out of my dungeon. Still crying and now sweating, he put on his clothes. Schnuff and I watched. When he was finished, I told him to get down on his hands and knees and crawl out of my dungeon - that this was the only thing that would not ignite my dog's chase-and-kill instinct, and that even my dog had proved that he was the better man. Quickly, obediently, my client dropped to his knees and began to crawl toward the door.
"The first truly Dominant woman I've ever met. Thank you, Mistress", he muttered as he opened the door and crawled toward the street.
It was a big Snausage day for Schnuff. He earned it!
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Alas, no holiday pictures featuring slaves with firecrackers up their ass, but the sky was lit up over Los Angeles anyway... in my neighborhood it's like Baghdad - the entire weekend, every night until after midnight, some idiot was either firing a gun into the air or lighting off crappy fireworks that are more bang than flash.
Scared my cats like you wouldn't believe. I had cats scrambling to get deep inside my shoe closet (which was kind of hilarious) - a big fat, red tabby diving nose-first into a pile of un-boxed stilettos, a black Siamese pushing clear shoe boxes out of the way to make a kind of plastic fort, a gray and white spotted furball following behind the red tabby as he cleared the path, and a brown and white tabby flattening herself as much as cat-ly possibly...nothing like a bunch of shoes to protect you from all the evils of the world.
My thoughts exactly.
Friday, July 01, 2005
The outfit in the above photo was one of the first real latex outfits I ever purchased, and probably was one of the most expensive. When I was at the Nutcracker Suite in NYC, Bob sold me that outfit for a fraction of it's cost, and I still have it, lovingly stored.
I was not in touch with him here in Los Angeles, where he had started GwenMedia, and I am not affiliated with that company. But it is a very sad day for all, and my condolences to all of his family, friends, and cohorts.
It is with great sorrow that the GwenMedia family announces the passing of company founder, Robert Zahurak, known to friends as Bob Zak.
Robert's body was found at the GwenMedia Studios in the San Fernando Vallery, Monday evening, June 27th. Late for a dinner engagement, calls to him went unanswered, which prompted concern. Bob was 51 years of age. Cause of death has been attributed to heart failure.
He will be greatly missed by one and all.The entire GwenMedia staff wishes to extend their thanks to everyone who has telephoned or e-mailed their condolesences. It was Bob's wish that the video/DVD company he created continue strongly in his absence, which it will. A planned memorial service will be announce as soon as date and location is secure.
Please look to GwenMedia.Com for further details.
I know, I know, not really safe. Not really sane. Probably not even consensual.
But it would have been really fun. I've never had anything go horribly wrong during a photoshoot, so my track record is quite good. I'm pretty fast - especially in heels - so I couldn't imagine it actually exploding before I got to it.
(insert a healthy dose of sarcasm here - just a bit of holiday fun)
So while I got carried away thinking about this, I managed to not do any holiday shoots at all. Which is a shame during this time of purrsecution of the adult industry and all. I'm sure that someone out there has shot some naked girls in Uncle Sam hats so all is not lost. And as long as they're not being "sexually suggestive" (whatever that means) they probably won't be prosecuted.
On this July 4th upcoming weekend, it's just been announced that Sandra Day O'Connor is resigning from the Supreme Court, Rehnquist is most likely next. This is going to become a very scary country kittens -- with two potential appointments to the high court by the current administration....
I'll be firing up the BBQ this weekend along with everyone else - except my nourishment of choice is veggie dogs, sweet corn (roasted in foil with fresh herbs), and fresh okra (skewered and bathed in chinese sweet and sour sauce). And lots of fresh iced green tea as I'm the designated driver (yes, having a control freak like me is a good thing when you'll be drinking).