Kinky kinkmas

KINKY KINKMAS will soon be upon us and I have teamed up with a couple of my fetish crew in order to add some spice to the festive season. So starting with the ever so popular TGirl Gigi, back by popular demand. Gigi will be joining me on Thursday 13th Dec for more naughty fun. Don’t think that because you aren’t a cross dresser this event wouldn’t be for you, because you’d be very wrong. This event is best suited to the bi curious, the tv admirer as well as the cross dressers. We tailor each session to each individuals experience and level. So if you are new to this, but are curious about that, then drop us a line. What goes on in the potting shed, stays in the potting shed! (Private joke that will mean something to quite a few).

kinky kinkmas

Now I have your attention I will go on to tell you about my next event which will be held on Monday 17th Dec and my partner in crime on this occasion will be the ravishing sub KittenXXX. So if the previous event wasn’t for you then this one may well be! The explosively sexy female in every way, submissive Kitten will be lavishing her attentions on You should I allow her that is. I will control you both as my subs and You will do as I ask. I may use you like puppets for my amusement or have you perform at my whim and for the really good boy, I may bestow you the honor of using my cockgag to please my sub Kitten if I feel she has earned it.

This day is suited to male subs who want to share their session with a pro female sub. A male who likes to please and satisfy the female form. Or a sub that enjoys CFNM or edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms or multiple orgasm and post orgasm torment. Kitten will blow your mind with her ultimate tie, tease and torment…can You handle it?

kinky kinkmas

BDSM The Great Escape

BDSM The Great Escape….With the pressures of everyday life and everything that goes with it, people are seeking out more and more ways to unwind in order to de-stress and de-clutter their mind. Something to take them out of themselves in the way of escapism. Someone to take control of their mind, body, and soul- whether that be a full on BDSM experience with rubber and all the trimmings or a simple bit of role play and an over the knee spanking.

BDSM has been likened to some adrenaline-driven sports such as skydiving and snowboarding, simply because people are getting the same buzz. See, we’re not so different, are we!

I can only speak from my experiences, all with men. With the weight of life hanging over them, the pressures of work, providing, paying the bills, life certainly isn’t easy. Is it any wonder they try different ways to declutter their minds and rid themselves of the pent up anxiety life has brought upon them?

For some, it is not a sexual journey, but a journey of self discovery and curiosity. I have met many an older gentleman, who in recent years have discovered the internet, found BDSM, and realized that it’s something they want to tick off their bucket list.

Others, have had a yearning for kinky play their whole lives, but never dared ask for it, for fear of ridicule or embarrassment. For some, it is a sexually expressive journey as well as a lifestyle. To others, it is like a drug; they love the high it gives them-like chasing the dragon, always seeking that all time ‘high,’ like an addiction. In short, something they can not do without. Some, are just passers by, thrill seekers who want a brief dalliance just so they can say they have ‘done it.’ They too can get caught up by the BDSM bug, and often find themselves returning for more.

However, whatever the reason, these individuals have one thing in common: they all feel a sense of relief afterwards-not relief the scene is over, but a relaxed relief. Some subs are lucky enough to reach a zen-like state known as the ‘zone’ or ‘subspace,’ where nothing else matters at that moment. When they ‘come round’ later on all their cares have gone, as if a huge weight has been lifted, and they feel ready to face the world again, feeling refreshed and recharged.

‘Subspace’ is due to the release of endorphins. I am not a scientist; If you are interested in learning more, click on the link below. It’ll explain it a lot better than I can. https://friskybusinessboutique.com/the-endorphin-levels-in-bdsm/

In the ten years I have worked as a Pro Domme, I would say at least 90% of the men I see feel this way after a BDSM session. It gives these men a brief escape from the ‘norm’- whether it be crossdressing, strap-on play, heavy rubber, cock and ball play, corporal punishment, and so on. For the brief time they have spent with me, they have been able to forget their woes, and enjoy their ‘Pamper Time’ by means of mental escape and total surrender; it makes them feel good. If it makes someone feel good, then I am all for it (as long as it is safe, sane, and consensual).

My clients come from all walks of life. It’s a total myth that they are all high-flying business men. You don’t need to be a person with high stature to be buffeted by life. I have road sweepers, teachers, policemen, you name it. But, they all have that one thing in common no matter what their particular kink happens to be. They are all seeking escapism through kink and/or BDSM.

I consider myself to be in a very privileged position with all my clients, and in a great position of trust. They tell me their troubles, their life story, their worries, woes, and their sexual desires or kinks, which is what has led them to my door. In a way, it’s similar, I suppose, to being a counselor-you have to sit and listen without judgement. I feel that for some clients, BDSM acts as an alternative therapy, that is certainly the feedback I receive time after time.

Maybe we never really grow up. As kids we play-we are cowboys one minute then Buzz Light-year the next. Maybe the adult playground is pretty similar in that some regress to a safe place in their mind through BDSM and by someone else taking control. Some adults need that escape just as they did when they were young.

A session starts way before entering a dungeon or a scene. It starts when the person seeking a BDSM session finds the Dominatrix or Mistress that appeals to them. They feel that instant rush of excitement, and as their appointment draws nearer they have all the feelings of going on a first date. Then, the door opens, and there The Mistress, the catalyst to their fantasy, stands in all her glory. It is through her that they give themselves over in order to reach that special place, that memory, that feeling, that endorphin high, that escape.

There are many Dominatrices or Mistresses out there. Each have their own personal style and all conduct their sessions differently. You know the old saying ‘always read the label’? Well, this applies in this case. Find a Mistress that appeals to you and your tastes. Read her site thoroughly to check whether she covers the type of session that you have in mind. Some Mistresses cover certain activities that others don’t. So, make sure you read carefully. Once you have found the Mistress that fits the bill, follow her booking procedure, go along, and enjoy the ride.

Please feel free to leave a comment on this article at the following link below………………..

http://www.kinkweekly.com/article-guest-author/the-great-escape/#comments

 

CP Story ‘The Pursuit of knowledge’ Part V

Part V

“ … You have been apprehended on academy property in possession of Class B controlled substances.” The electrodes transmitted a minor current that caused an apprehensive tingling feeling in my bottom, warning me that the continuation of my theoretical bad behaviour would shortly result in renewed punishment. “This is a major violation of disciplinary and health and safety policy. The disciplinary sanction will now commence.” Frantically I heaved at the straps and tried to bring my fingers to bear that I might tear the restraints loose. Then a bolt of paralysing pain, shocking in its intensity coursed through me.

I did not have time to recover before the next bolt crackled into my hindquarters and another spear of electrical energy coursed through my innards. With artful sadism the apparatus paused then recommenced its ghastly work; sometimes administering three jolts in quick succession. Each energy wave manifested itself as superheated, flaring sensations in coruscating patterns across the nerve endings under the skin of the posterior region. The awful torment proved so intense that I felt as though twin bands of steel encompassed my body, crushing me so I couldn’t breathe. I rubbed my wrists raw with the intention of jerking my hands free to get the inflated rubber ball out of my mouth – to no avail.

Strangely, even in the midst of this surging, biting, bubbling cauldron I still possessed sufficient detachment to contemplate the diabolical inventiveness at work. The very cold, clinical, inhumanity of it made it seen especially sinister and cruel – especially when experienced from this position. With another human being there might be an appeal to reason; for clemency. But machines know no right or wrong – they simply follow their programmed instructions. Nor was the situation without its erotic quotient through and I couldn’t help imagining the beautiful doctor reclining in her swivel chair, shoe dangling from the heel of one lovely foot as she swept her amused gaze over the jerking, convulsing, hotly suffering bodies below …

Apart from the piercing, heat-raising aspects the very worst part of the punishment was the muscular contractions induced by each jolt. My spine arched, tendons and sinews screamed in protest and I times I thought I could hear my bones creak as my joints screwed up so violently. All the while as the current traced its course my nether regions lit up like a Christmas tree of agony. Silently I screamed, pleaded, cursed, threatened terrible vengeance – and suffered. And suffering was the whole point. It was what we were there for: human guinea pigs for the day when this conditioning would be used for real in our technological utopia. Odd is it not how we always perceive utopia to be a vision of paradise when Thomas More wrote his novel as a warning.

And suddenly … blissful relief. The flaring sensations of agonising heat ceased as abruptly as they had begin. For a moment I hardly dared exhale, believing it to be some sadistic trick of the machine. Next moment came a click as my bonds fell away and the rubber ball-gag collapsed upon itself, causing me to deposit a large quantity of saliva onto the gym mat beneath my downturned face. “Remove the VR device; take thirty seconds before attempting to stand up,” the voice intoned soothingly. As I eased the sinister black helmet over my hair now damp with perspiration, I saw the ponytailed girl looking down at me through the veil of tears: her face all concern and solicitude. “Take it steady … that’s it.” I felt the gentle pressure of her fingers on my arm as she guided me to my feet. Once she was sure my legs were not going to collapse like those of some new-born foal, she hurried off to help the others who also were in the throes of freeing themselves from that infernal device.

I looked around groggily for Doctor Barzani. Sure enough the lady in question stepped lightly off the dais and made her way gaily over toward me, hips swinging in that sauntering, long-limbed walk that matched her smile of satisfaction. Behind her on the platform the oscilloscope resumed its innocuous yellow pulse; the equipment once again simply a harmless jumble of cables, pipes and half-a-dozen bucket seats with gamer helmets.

My lips compressed in fury; in contrast her onyx eyes gleamed as she said: “That was marvellous! We got some really useful telemetry and biometric data from this session. It’s going to help us enormously.”

“Well I’m chuffed about that!” I began sarcastically. Before I could give vent to my feelings of outraged dignity the scientist turned away to corral the rest of the group. “We have iced water and some fruit ready for you,” she called out. “Take your time getting up; we don’t want any accidents.”

Helped by the doctor and her assistant, the shocked group stumbled back toward the common area and the waiting refreshments. No-one spoke; each test subject (or more accurately ‘victim’) lost in the jumble of his or her own thoughts. A couple of the girls were weeping silently and my own face felt slicked by something I suspected was not perspiration. Even Graham remained silent while Mazher simply repeated over and over again: “That’s not right; not right …” Walking proved painful and precluded a more rapid escape from the portals of Solaryde Ltd.

“You may experience some bladder irritation for a while afterwards and it might be difficult to pass water,” Doctor Barzani breezed helpfully.

“Well it certainly hasn’t stopped you from taking the piss!” I snarled.

Leaving the test centre and stepping back into the bustling normality of an English city street seemed surreal and I struggled for a moment to take it in. The blare of a car horn brought me back to my senses. A pale blue Ford Sierra was parked at the kerb and I saw Carole inside and leaning across to open the passenger door for me. As I hobbled over and lowered myself stiffly onto the seat she smiled – and then her expression froze. “God, David! You look terrible! What the hell happened in there?”

“I’ve just had enough electricity put through my jaxy to light up the National Grid!” I replied miserably.

Her head smacked back against the headrest as she gave a shriek of mirth. “I warned you to look into it properly, didn’t I?” Carole laughed in spite of her concern over my ordeal before reaching for the ignition key. “Oh David, you complete and utter arse!”

THE END


REVIEW 20/06/18

Hello Mistress Jane (CFNM)

Thank you, thank you, thank you for a wonderful morning.  The ladies were so gorgeous and exhilarating!

That Tia is especially naughty.

JP

The Berkshire Dairy and not a cow insight

The Berkshire Dairy otherwise know as Mistress Jane’s Male Milking Facility, as I also like to call it, houses some of the most sophisticated machines available on the market today. We all know how you guys fantasize about having your cum milked dry. Well, its not so far fetched as you might have imagined.

In my specially adapted Berkshire Dairy Male Milking Facility you can expect to find a stark white room, not unlike a medical room at a Doctors surgery or hospital. Equipped with all the finest toys and machines to drain your balls dry! Let me start with the milking machine of all milking machines. The Serious Kit system which is based around an iconic American Milking Machine which has been modified to hold receivers know as STP’s which are lined in a soft rubber and used to house your cock. The STP is uniquely designed on a wet system to keep everything well lubricated and slippery. Once the machine is switched on the STP is sucked in to place. The rubber inner liner sucks and pulsates, giving a very stimulating sensation. I wouldn’t say that this machine is designed for a quick fix cum, it is designed to ‘hold you on the edge’ and therefore is great for extended play and prolonged milking in my Berkshire Dairy for men.

http://seriouskit.com/site1/Milking_Machines.html

Moving on to the Venus 2000. A masturbation machine. It stroke speed and stroke length can be controlled as is strokes your manhood and works on a diaphragm which pushes air in sucks it out from within the inner rubber sleeve. I have a specially adapted v2 cradle that houses the Venus receiver which sits on your groin while the v2 goes to work on you. As long as the controller can read the signs, they can have you balancing on the edge of an almighty orgasm in no time at all.

https://venusformen.com/

The Tremblr works on the same principles as the venus 2000. The receivers slightly differ from the v2 in that they are black and heavier, slightly more cumbersome. The inner sleeve is made from a thicker rubber which is also ribbed and can give you a wonderful sensation as is slides up and down your lubricated cock. Hands free masturbation at it best! Giving me or my dairy team chance to play with other parts of your anatomy, or theirs come to think of it.

http://f-machine.com/index.php/tremblr-detail

Robojac…..Although sold as a masturbation machine, this works really well for guys with ED, which has got to be a plus. It operates by creating alternate air flows of suction and pressure to move a smooth pliant receiver up and down the penis. The Robojac doesn’t have an inner sleeve like the other machines so it makes it less fussy.

And then of course we have the our hands. Yes, Milking the old fashioned way. Not all of you like mechanical machine milking and that is fine. I can hold you on the edge of an orgasm for as long as i wish to. I can control your cum and have you begging for release, denying you your orgasm until I want to see you explode.

My milking team can also be on hand to assist, you’ve all heard the old adage ‘Many hands make light work’.

Who is suited to this type of play at The Berkshire Dairy Male Milking Facility?

Basically this type of scene, scenario or session is for any level of experience from a complete newbie to the most experienced kinkster, as all sessions are tailored to each individuals experience, limits, fantasy and tastes. These machines do not hurt you, they offer an alternative way to pleasure. For those with a really tight foreskin then i recommend edging by hand as the machine could possible force the skin back.

You may have read through some of my blogs where the subject has cum multiple times. Of course this isn’t something that every man is capable of. Have you ever heard that saying ‘Don’t write cheque’s your body can’t cash’…Well, that is applicable when it comes to male milking or should I say multiple milking. You need to set the target You are capable of achieving, and who knows after a bit of practice we may be able to squeeze another cum out of you..

I often get emails such as… ‘I have read your blog and that guy came 3 times, can you do that for me?’. My answer is ‘Sure I can if you can cum 3 times in the given time. And a good way to find out how many times you can cum in an hour or 2 hours or 3 hours and so on, would be to masturbate in that time space and see for yourself.

So, you find out you can only cum once but want a two hour session. That is totally acceptable, I can prolong your milking for how ever long need be. This is where edging and orgasm denial come in to play and the longer it goes on the more intense the outcum.

Just milking? So while you are lay back, machine pulsating up and down your shaft what else can you experience? Quite a lot actually. Depending on whether you like other forms of play I can incorporate all sorts while You are being milked. A nice prostate massage is always a good way of stimulating you. Nipple play, lite stroking, or for the more demanding patient, nipple suction or clamps, maybe estim. You may like to feel the prickling sensation of the violet wand all over your anatomy. You may like to be hooded or gagged or both. Dressed head to toe in rubber, just imagine! The possibilities are endless.

Who will milk me? I, Mistress Jane will be your Nurse or Milk Maid. I can be a rubber  nurse, a NHS style nurse with tights or stockings or a Dominant kinky nurse. I have a team who are available to help out and who can dress as I do. Miss Trixy, Miss Lunna Latex, KittenXXX (Wednesdays only), or tv Matron Gigi are all part of the milking team and either one is available (subject to their availability) upon Your request.

So let me set the scene……..He had received his instructions. He was to abstain from any masturbation for up to 5 days before his visit to The Berkshire Dairy Male Milking Facility. The day had come round quickly, thank God as he felt his balls were about to explode. Five Days abstinence was a lot to a guy that masturbated twice daily. He felt nervous as he approached the door, his heart thumped hard and for a moment he felt light headed. Suddenly the door opened and a tall slender woman clad in skin tight latex stood in the door way. She quickly looked him up and down before she beckoned him in. She closed the door behind him and she held out her hand and introduced herself as Lunna.

The room they stood in was stark white, white walls, white floor, white cupboards. In the centre of the room stood a large gynecological chair. He suddenly caught a whiff of surgical spirit, the smell you would expect in a hospital or something. But then again, this sure looked like a hospital examination room, so why wouldn’t it smell like one.

Lunna asked for his coat and told him to take a seat for a moment. She explained that Mistress wouldn’t be long and while he waited she would help him remove his clothing. She was stunning, and stood so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. She pressed herself against him whilst looking deep into his eyes as she slowly undid his shirt buttons whilst holding his gaze. Slowly but surely he felt that all to common twitch in his pants. Lunna must have to, as at that moment she paused and slid her hand down to his groin. She whispered to him, telling him that she was going to play with his cock and rub herself against it. She held his hands and placed them on her waist. “Do like what I’m wearing?” she asked provocatively as she licked her big juicy lips. He nodded eagerly. Suddenly the door opened and in walked Mistress, she to was dressed in skin tight rubber.

Both ladies towered over him in their heels. Mistress introduced herself and without any further ado he was stripped bare and led to the gynae chair, told to lay on it as they both secured him firmly. His cock twitched as it dripped pre cum onto his belly. Lunna dipped her fingers in to the puddle and told his to open wide as she slid her fingers in to his mouth. Mistress stroked his flesh and tweaked him here and there before placing a glove on her hand…She then rubber lube on her fingers and lubed up his cock. Meanwhile Lunna was preparing to climb up on to the gynae with his in order to smother his face. With his cock lubed and throbbing Mistress attached the milking device to his cock and as it sucked down, sliding his foreskin back he felt the most stimulating pleasure. Just as he was about to cry out in delight Lunna placed herself right over his face and began to wriggle, “lick my rubber panties” she moaned.

He could feel all sorts of sensations happening but was unable to pin point each one and with Lunna’s distraction he just lay back and did as he was ordered by her and completely lost himself in the moment as Mistress controlled his orgasms…………………..

 

 

The Pursuit of Knowledge …Part 2

The Pursuit of Knowledge …

On Wednesday morning I caught the eight thirty three from Brighton to Chichester to begin my little adventure. The day before I had a brief conversation on the subject with Carole who looked at me doubtfully while biting her lower lip: “You did go through it thoroughly with them, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” I lied.

During the brisk fifteen minute walk from the station inside the city walls and close to the Cathedral I saw many beautiful period houses that had been reclaimed from commerce. The character of the city had changed and a domestic hum was replacing the hush of office life and I enjoyed the early spring sunshine on my face as its rays slanted down over the rooftops and between the pilasters to reflect on the windows of parked cars. No wonder North Street received acclaim from Nikolaus Pevsner and Ian Nairn in the Sussex volume of The Buildings of England as ‘the perfect street for an English country town’. And somewhere inside this portentous Georgian façade would be the former school converted by Solaryde into their research facility.

Once buzzed in through one of the glass security pods I stepped into the reception hall with its high corniced ceiling and which still retained the elegant Adam oval staircase. It wasn’t hard to visualise what this place must have looked like when it had been a school with pupils heading in noisy crocodiles up and down those stairs: all excited chatter; sports bags and gossip. Stepping from behind the dais a girl in a white silk blouse and whose long black ponytail dangled down to the small of her back led me across the lobby toward a series of rooms converted into cellular offices. There seemed to be nobody else around and the building was eerily quiet apart from the whine of computer or other electrical equipment; the noises of the street shut off by the vacuum-sealed doors.

“You’re just in time; Doctor Barzani is expecting you. She’s just about to start the briefing” was her perfunctory greeting and as we walked along the corridor a surveillance camera high up near the veiling panned to follow our progress.

“Here you are.”

The girl ushered me into a barrel-vaulted room converted into an office. Five faces turned to look at me – these belonging to the other volunteers sitting in a semi-circle around a functional metal workstation desk. And there seated at some distance to the side of the desk was the elusive Doctor Barzani herself.

“Ah David! Welcome. Please take a seat. I’m just taking the group through the preliminaries and explaining the background to what are our phase II clinical trials …” The smile switched direction to the girl who had shown me in. “Thank you, Rachael. We’ll be done in about ninety minutes so you can buzz them out then, okay?”

“Okay Doctor.”

I was barely conscious of the others in the room as I took the vacant chair – so preoccupied was I in drinking in the beauty of the woman opposite. My God was she gorgeous! Jet-black hair, swept up into a simple and completely practical hairstyle, accentuated her high-cheek-bones and a straight, perfectly proportioned nose. Wide-set brown eyes with delicately painted lashes complimented a mouth in which the upper lip curled a little and the lower lip was a little fuller than the upper. She is beautiful, I thought. If you drew a line down the centre, both sides of her face would be almost exactly the same. Her cafe au lait skin was flawlessly smooth. And I’m pleased to say she even wore a white lab coat over her tight black minidress and those long shapely legs were hosed in black nylons that found their perfect accompaniment in spiky-heeled shoes. A name badge pinned to her lapel read SAHIRA BARZANI BSc. Expressions like ‘stunner’, ‘honey’ et cetera would seem ridiculously inappropriate when applied to such an amazing woman …

“You’ll be helping us here today with our work in developing and evaluating novel treatments through the first in the series of single and multi-centre trials …” There were half-a-dozen of us in Doctor Barzani’s office. We were all around the same age – early- to mid-twenties, students from various academic establishments. And her group now being complete, she launched into an exposition of the programme but it proved to be as opaque as Carole’s earlier explanation. To make matters worse (or better, depending upon your perspective) she had this habit of reclining right back in her swivel chair, legs crossed and one glossy high-heeled shoe dangling in a seductive manner from her foot so the ball in the fine-denier hose shone almost pinkly through the charcoal mesh … Stop perving at her legs! I told myself sternly, you’re here for the advancement of science – not to letch at good-looking women. I tried to distract myself by taking the occasional glance beyond the French windows at the stone flags that let out into the garden. But it proved difficult …

After the rather sinister hush of the remainder of the building it felt a relief to be back amongst people. Of the other five volunteers, one in particular caught my eye – tall and leggy girl with a sun-reddened face and a disarranged hairstyle of blonde locks and dark roots that I found quite appealing. She spoke in an Australian accent and asked the most questions of any of us but I was too lost daydreaming about the beauty of Doctor Barzani to hear barely a word of either these queries or the concomitant answers.

“ … Designed to optimise alternative mindpaths through appropriate stimuli to re-engineer neuro-linguistic programming into generating more societally acceptable responses …” To be honest I was so fixated on Doctor Barzani’s lovely face and that ruby lipped mouth I was away with the fairies. I took not one whit of notice of what she was actually saying … until ‒

 We have laid on some light refreshments for you so please enjoy these, get to know each other and then in half-an-hour we’ll start.” Naturally there was some form-filling and the doctor passed a clipboard amongst us that had attached the thick legal waiver to be signed and of course a slip for the nominated bank account for each person to receive their expenses and remuneration. We then filed out into a common area where tea and coffee urns stood on a trestle table alongside a respectable selection of biscuits, muffins and other pastries. I’d no sooner poured myself a cup of coffee (which proved to be surprisingly decent for this sort of thing) than I received dig in the ribs from somebody and I looked up to see an immensely tall and gangling youth who peered down at me through thick-lensed spectacles. “Hello mate,” he said in a suitably posh voice. “I saw you eyeing up the good doc. Quite a looker isn’t she?”

“She’s that all right,” I cackled, taking a liking to this eccentric character. “So what do you make of all this business? It’s a bit mysterious. I mean nobody’s told us what’s in store.”

“The chance to make a few quid – easy money that’s all.” Flicking back a lock of straight-combed blond hair he suddenly stuck his hand out. “Graham,” he said.

I shook it and replied, “David.”

The third boy in our group had by now drifted over to introduce himself: “Mazher.”

We exchanged handshakes and introductions complete began speculating on the nature of the experiment we would soon be participating in. “I’m not sure I want to be a lab rat,” Mazher confessed; face pensive. “But I need to get my car back on the road.”

“I’m sure it’ll be all right,” I replied although by now I did have a few butterflies in the stomach. Despite the tall arched windows in the room it seemed perceptibly darker outside and the third youth’s words brought back the feeling of unease I experienced earlier. Keeping a discreet distance the three girls also had their heads together discussing the situation. Only Graham seemed unaffected by the mood of apprehension. “Tell you what I’m going to do,” he winked conspiratorially, “once this is over I’m going to invite Doctor Barzani out for a coffee.”

“I mean they keep mentioning Newman,” Mazher persisted. “What’s all that about? Who is Newman and what are his theories? How come nobody’s given us a straight answer since we got here? Don’t you think we should be finding out more about this stuff? Because that’s probably what they’re going to be doing to us? I mean don’t you think we should know!”

“No idea,” Graham chortled, “all I care about is they’re paying us and I want to get my leg over with the doc and that’s all need to know!”

“And you reckon a coffee’ll do it, do you?” I guffawed. “I admire your confidence.”

“If she’ll have a coffee with me it’s a start, isn’t it?”

Mazher laughed and shook his head. “You guys are hopeless, aren’t you?”

“Okay ladies and gentlemen. We’re ready for you now.”

……………………to be continued

Taste the Cane with Mistress Jane

Dick, Taste the Cane!!

As Dick stepped out of the shower he twisted to view his right buttock in the mirror, and there, still perfectly clear, were two parallel lines – the final remnants of his ‘taste the cane’ and the striping he had received from Mistress Jane’s rather more severe canes. Still visible after 28 days.

A month earlier, Dick had been building up to his little treat for some time, desperately curious to find out just how intense it would feel, but always concerned lest the resulting tell-tale marks leave him with some explaining to do at home. But after over a year in waiting, the opportunity presented itself with 10 days “healing time” between cane and home. And so, Dick had made his appointment and at the allotted time was naked and arranged, arse in the air, over MJ’s new whipping bench.

In the months prior to this event, Dick had danced around the issue, experimenting with cane strokes to the hand (light cane and relatively gentle strokes to ensure no risk of injury), and had indulged too in a little bastinado (similarly injury risk averse)… the latter pushing Dick to his limits… but no-where near satisfying his curiosity about the cane. Dick had also “enjoyed” several increasingly severe thrashings with MJ’s tawses and straps (recorded on earlier blogs), under the guise of general bruising, which so far too had not prompted any unwanted conversations at home.

Often, ahead of these encounters Dick would write to Jane to encourage her… not… to be too gentle, and perhaps to suggest a minimum number (which had squeezed into 3 figures) on more than one occasion. And on a suitably warmed up buttock, Jane had treated Dick to a few strokes with her lighter canes.

But now, naked, tethered, with no warm up, and anticipating the first strike of Her cane, Dick was relieved that he had had the wisdom to make no such bold requests. Tonight, he would take each stroke as it came and see for himself just how far he chose to go. Jane had laid out for his perusal a selection of canes, and Dick had noticed that none of Her lighter canes has been included. Dick knew from recent correspondence with Jane that She had recently acquired one or two more severe implements, Tahiti canes– which were now also laid out for inspection.

Then, having ensured he was suitably secured, ankles, thighs, wrists and back – Jane selected a senior dragon cane and moved in to the optimum spot behind Dick. “So Dick,” said Jane “any little requests before we start… you seem to have forgotten to ask me… not… to be too gentle… and to tell me just how many strokes you want… before I may grant you mercy.” Dick hadn’t forgotten and had no intention of raising the point now either, so he gave a nervous chuckle – and Jane chuckled back – as She gently stroked Dick’s upturned buttocks with her cane.

“Are you ready Dick?” Jane asked, and as he nodded She brought the cane down smartly across the very centre of the target. And for the first time Dick got his first inkling of just what the fuss was all about. Unlike the strap and tawse, both of which gave a “cold” sting which rose and fell fairly quickly, the cane drew a “hot” line across the cheeks, and the burn just rose and rose… and lasted… for so much longer. Jane left him to stew for almost a minute – before asking gently if he would like another. And with a second nod from Dick, and a swish and a crack, Jane gave a him a second stripe just below the first.

After about another 30 seconds, and with no further enquiries Jane switched to a heavier cane and administered a 3rd, and then a 4th. And already Dick was struggling… and much of his curiosity seemed to be ebbing swiftly away.

Dick had imagined himself at this point retaining the courage and urge to know… and asking MJ to swing harder… and as he panted and sweated and tried to process the sensation… he found himself facing the question of just why he was doing this. And right up to this moment Dick had had no doubt why, and it was to satisfy his curiosity… but here Dick already had some answers (at this moment 4 to be exact)… and was anything but sure that he needed any more evidence. But as he deliberated, Jane picked up her heaviest cane… and explaining this to Dick invited him to take a few more.

Now unsure, but still not quite ready to give up Dick nodded again and in fairly swift succession Jane gave him two more “answers” completing the decoration of his buttocks with now 6 perfectly parallel lines, and with the final blow catching that sweet spot just at where the buttock meets the thigh – and Dick was almost levitating. “That was a real ball-breaker,” Jane announced rather pleased with the accuracy of the final blow.

And there he was – pretty much all questions answered… and to his surprise feeling a little nauseous. He knew of course that Jane had more power in her wrists, and could have caned him harder. He knew too that She could have caned much faster, and could only imagine what that might feel like, but still worried about the marks, and already quite clear how caning could so easily be pushed into the “unbearable” zone, Dick opted to call it a day… and once untethered, sidled over to the mirror to see just how vividly he had been marked.

To complete the session, Jane cheered Dick up with Her usual – and far more pleasant – combination of prostate massage, milking and vibration… and very soon a spent and satisfied Dick stood in Jane’s kitchen, coffee in hand… and wondering if he was now cured of the urge to receive the cane.

A month on, with the odd stripe still visible Dick had felt absolutely no urge to repeat the process… and indeed his penchant for “femdom caning porn” seemed also to be on the wane. Just as well that Jane had so very many other treats to offer… as Dick, though no longer curious about the cane, still enjoyed pretty much every other sensation in Jane’s dungeon… and even now found himself wondering if perhaps another battle with Her strap’s and tawses might not be in order.

 

taste the cane

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Southeast Mistress Jane’s FAQ’s Reading Mistress

The most frequently asked questions to Southeast Mistress Jane are…..

“What is the most popular activity?” & “Do you enjoy what you do?” & “I bet you meet some right weirdo’s don’t ya!”.

I love what I do and don’t entertain anything that I would’t find enjoyable. It is also very important to me that You have fun and enjoy yourself no matter how serious the play. I get to meet some great people and some of you have become great friends. Some of you never cease to amaze me with your kindness and generosity and offers of help that I am still blown away each week by someone. So no, I don’t meet any weirdo’s, so in that respect I have been lucky. I think you get to know with experience whether someone is on the level or not. I also get to meet other interesting people related in some way to the adult industry, whether they come in the form of another Mistress, movie makers, web masters, suppliers or other like minded people who I have met over the years and who now and again help me during sessions.

The most popular activity…hmmmm that is a hard question as it can change from one month to the next but from strapon play to rubber and from rubber to cp and anything in between should answer that question. So all in all I have a great time, i get to meet wonderful people and play with them to. Its all good.

Southeast Mistress

https://twitter.com/MistressJane3

The Whipping Boy Part 4

Tom could not help but gasp at the pain as he felt the hard edges of the wooden shoe bury themselves in his soft flesh. The crack seemed to resonate in the snug little room. Again that experienced arm swept down and this time the shoe smote his left buttock. He gave a grunt and immediately her arm returned to its position ready to strike. “Six with the sandal I think – on either side,” she said brightly. “I do prefer the wood to the velvet although I suppose you have cause to disagree with me?” Adopting a steady rhythm she alternated the blows from left to right and her wooden sandal imparted a curious combination of a thud and a burning sensation that young Tom tried to escape by struggling off her lap. His legs kicked and scissored and he energetically wriggled and writhed with every wringing whack.

“I do not shirk my duty in punishing you and you must not be deficient in persuading your playmate to pay greater attention during his Latin verbs,” the chatelaine explained. “I mean – attempting to form the future active indicative as if it belonged to the second conjugation! A thrashing is much merited.” To make matters worse, he felt her fingers in the waistband of his hose. “Come, young master, we must bare your bottom!” she said briskly as she tugged the clinging garment down to expose his buttocks, now a pleasing melange of pink, cream and very crimson flash. “Sadly for you, no felix culpa this!” The hotly suffering Tom felt her body shake slightly as she laughed at her own joke.

“You do squirm, my laddie, worse than an eel!” Mistress Gwendolyn chuckled. “We’ll soon have the remedy for that.” With a rather unladylike exclamation she hitched up her skirt, followed by the shift beneath it until a shapely leg in a blue silk stocking wrapped around his lower thighs and drew him in tight. In this position his bare buttocks – framed by the white lacy stocking-top – were perfectly cocked for the remorseless descent of the sandal. “Wriggle to your heart’s content, my little piglet!” she laughed. “You won’t get free. I can grip very firmly I am told!” Her captive thus secured she whipped the sandal left and right; he bucked and squirmed (at times hardly able to breathe) as the burning sensation spread. The sandal rose and fell, bouncing off alternate buttocks that flattened momentarily underneath each impact before springing back to their lean curvature.

Whack! Crack! Whack!

Ow! Ouch! Owww!

Finally Mistress Gwendolyn lifted her leg away and allowed him up. Tom, hurt and embarrassed and scarcely able to believe what was happening to him, rubbed his bottom.

“Rather more to the job than hunting and playing dice with the Prince isn’t there, Master Tom?” she laughed. That the woman found his discomfort amusing made matters even worse. Mutinously he reached behind him to pull up his hose until a vicious, searing agony – shocking in its suddenness – made him snatch his fingers away.

“I did not tell you to adjust your clothing!” The Lady of the Wardrobe regarded him sternly and she slowly lowered the bamboo rod with its crooked handle. Silently cursing her Tom blew on his swollen knuckles (which now competed with his blistered bottom), which felt as though they had been burned with a fire-iron. She replaced the rod and rattled round for another instrument of torment. His heart sank when he recognised it: the terror of every schoolboy – the ferula!

“Doubtless you received this in your school?” she asked.

Tom nodded glumly. It was a long wooden ruler that became flatter and wider at one end forming a circular shape like a paddle. He noticed how the blade was drilled through with a pattern of holes in much the same manner as the battledore paddle used in baking, laundry – and very probably on the bottoms of miscreants in household discipline! The village schoolmarm had been a little old woman; terrifying and the children often whispered behind her back that she must be a witch. And yet I would prefer her to this creature, he thought to himself, her beauty notwithstanding.

“When your teacher administered the ferula they did so upon your palms, I’ll be bound?” Mistress Gwendolyn said in that same conversational tone. Her face brightened and she seemed pleased again – happy at watching him squirm. “I on the other hand regard that as a waste of a good implement. I prefer to punish on the spot where boys learn their lesson best!” She pointed at the chair. “Bend over the back and place your hands upon the seat.” He moved stiffly to obey, still rubbing his aching bottom until the very last minute before taking his hands away to grip the smoothly polished wood. “That’s it, all the way over.” The auburn-haired beauty prodded him with the pommel. “Keep those legs straight!” She tugged at the hose strung about his muscular thighs to ensure they were sufficiently clear of the target area and drew the circular blade of the ferula back to her right shoulder, her keen eyes measuring the range. “Twelve you shall have – on each side.”

Tom kept his gaze fixed on the seat six inches from his nose, nerving himself for the blow that would surely come. The skin of his buttocks – already sorely abused by her sandal – seemed to prickle in expectation … Blatt! Because of the holes in its flat surface, when swung the ferula thus sang through the air with no cushioning effect caused by its passing to mitigate against the blow inflicted upon the recipient’s posterior. And Tom found the skin of his right buttock then be compressed by the blow up into little pockets of flesh to produce a ‘blister’ effect. He gave a half-strangled gasp of anguish and automatically whipped one hand back in a vain attempt to protect himself. Suddenly that awful old schoolmarm seemed like a sister of mercy compared to this hellion

“Hold still, young sir! Should I miss and catch you upon the lower back it would be so much the worse for you; not least because needs must I would have to start again!”

Chuckling at the morose expression on his face she tapped his left buttock with the flat of the blade. “A fine contrivance this; it can – as I’m sure you know – cover an entire arse cheek with each lick. It can redden up a lad’s bottom flesh like nothing else!” Tom shivered involuntarily: it seemed wrong for such a courtly woman to utter a crudity like that but he had little time to dwell upon the contradiction. The ferula returned to her shoulder … Splatt!Mistress Gwendolyn settled to her task, beating out a tattoo on those crimson, stippled buttocks balanced above the back of the chair. Tom stared intently at the seat, his entire body flinching with each swat, his bottom feeling like one huge burning blister. It throbbed in time with the spanking.

The mistress swung the ferula again and again and again.

Tom set himself to counting; trying to ignore the intense burning in his paddled bottom and willing the number of strokes up to the twenty four the woman had promised would be his last.

Splatt! Splatt!

Twenty one. Twenty two.

Blatt!

            Twenty three …

K-r-akk!

“Twenty four,” Tom cried out, the words catching at the back of his throat from his distress. “I beg of you, Mistress, twenty four!” he sobbed as if it were some magic phrase that he could invoke to stop the punishment.

To his intense joy those terrible sounds of wood striking bare flesh ceased and he felt nothing but the warm air upon his tortured nates. Hardly venturing to believe his ordeal might be over, Tom gingerly lifted his right hand away from the edge of the seat to fan his posterior. As he did so, till bending forward, he twisted round as far as he dared to see what she was doing. Once more he noted the clatter of wooden objects; she was at the table with her back to him and laying down that hated ferula. Thank God, he thought. Thank God, dropping his gaze quickly before she spotted him.

Then he smelled the rosewater and heard the click of those dainty shoes as the woman advanced upon him – and in her right hand she clutched the evil, knobby bamboo rod. His heart skipped a beat in horror. Surely not …! As smartly as any cavalry trooper on parade with his mortuary sword, Mistress Gwendolyn flicked the cane up to her right shoulder. Those onyx eyes and their extraordinary rises were shining now with something other than the satisfaction of a responsibility well-performed.

“Well now, young Tom, we do come to the final act of our little tableau – the cane!”

Male Milking with The Cock Doctor, Jane.

Male Milking was something that Cock Dr.Jane was very versed in and there were several machines and techniques used solely for this purpose. Each patient had different capabilities to the next and the clinic understood this, what worked for one wouldn’t necessarily work for the next. There were other factors that the medical team needed to take into consideration such as age, fitness and background-did the patient suffer with ED, was he diabetic, had his prostate been removed and so on. There were other factors like stimuli-what visual sights or talk or surroundings turned that particular patient on.

The Cock Clinic catered for all sorts of tastes and fantasies and although many were similar never two were the same. On this particular occasion our patient was in the twilight of his years and before his time was up he felt he needed to explore his deep seated fantasies which he had harboured and kept locked away in his mind since his early 20’s. The thought would not have crossed his mind were it not for the internet which he was recently introduced to by his Grandson. He bought himself a computer and began to browse, the rest is history.

Today he had taken that step in to the unknown, a place of fantasies. He was going to pay a visit to that little harboured fantasy he had kept secret for many years. His stomach churned from the first moment of contact to the very moment he lay back on the medical bed, but he had nothing to lose, it was now or never.

The medical team were dressed in NHS cotton uniforms albeit shorter than the norm. Their stocking clad legs mirrored the very image in his mind. An image from a ‘Carry On’ film that captured his imagination when he was a youngster. The two of them totted around him in their heels as they chatted and discussed the imminent procedure and the Male Milking procedure they were about to undertake. It all felt a bit surreal, as if he were an onlooker peering from behind a door watching and listening to the whole scene.

Nurse Trixy placed on some disposable gloves then positioned herself between his legs which had been separated and raised by the medical bed on which he lay. She put some lube on to her gloves then rubbed her hands together to spread it. Then lubed his limp shaft. Her touch was soft and gentle and for one moment he thought his cock was going to make a come back but alas no luck. This didn’t seem to bother the Nurse what so ever which made him feel a little better about it.

His manly erections had been very intermittent of late and although he could still produce cum he couldn’t always get an erection. Dr.Jane was mean while preparing a machine. She attached an orange cock shaped receiver to a transparent pipe and hung it from a hook which was screwed in to the ceiling directly above his groin. Next a clear cylinder was placed over his shaft and as Nurse Trixy pumped on the tigger his cock began to rise. If it were appropriate to shout ‘Hallelujah’ he would have done just that. As his cock rose he could feel the pressure in the clear cylinder build up, just as it was getting uncomfortable Nurse Trixy pressed the release button to allow air to get in to relieve the pressure, and as the air came in his cock died down with it. “We shall repeat this process several times to get the blood in to your penis” said his very glamorous Nurse. He smiled and watched as she pumped on the tigger. Her ruby red lips parted as she concentrated on the job in hand. Again his cock rose inside the cylinder, it felt good and the more she repeated the process the bigger his cock grew and the better it felt. Eventually Nurse Trixy was satisfied she had gotten him to the desired length. She gently slipped a tight band from the bottom of the cylinder on to the base of his shaft which held his erection. He looked on in amazement as it had been some time since he’d had such a feeling and seen such a sight. With cylinder removed the Nurse stroked his shaft and although he wasn’t as sensitive as he used to be in that area, it felt damned good.

“We shall shortly begin the male milking process we first need to carry out a few small tests” Dr.Jane carried on “We need to check your sensitivity and for that we will be using electro pulses”. Nurse Trixy gave him a re assuring smile before wrapping black rubber loops around his shaft. Dr.Jane attached wires to the loops and the pulses began. Soon they were surging rhythmically up and down his shaft, as if a steely grip had hold. He gave a satisfying sigh and closed his eyes, such an intense sensation, a feeling he had never experienced before and a feeling, although unusual felt very pleasurable. The intensity of the pulses grew as the dial was turned higher. Eventually the loops were removed and also the elastic ring that was placed around his shaft early on. “We don’t wish to de sensitise you” said the Doctor.

A steel tray was brought over. On it were four long stainless steel rods. Nurse Trixy stood between his legs and began to wipe his cock which by now had lost its rigidity, but somehow it no longer mattered to him as he could see it didn’t bother the medical team either way. “I am just going to swab you ready for urethral sounding” said Nurse Trixy as she wiped the head of his cock. Lubricant was dropped on the end of his cock and the tray containing the rods was brought closer. Dr.Jane not stood at the helm holding one of the rods in her right hand and his cock in the other. He gazed at the procedure with great trepidation as the sound entered his urethra and under its own weight slid down his tract. Nurse Trixy moved in close and held his hand to re assure him, but surprisingly he felt nothing to shout about. In fact he could barley feel a thing. Dr.Jane then spoke. “We need to check your tract is clear before we proceed with the male milking process”. The patient nodded and joined in with the banter with a “Of course Doctor”.

Dr.Jane then attached a clip with a wire to the sound, suddenly he could feel a tingling deep within his cock. Nurse Trixy still stood at his side was asked to hold the sound steady while Dr.Jane lubed up her gloved hand slowly pushed a finger in to his rectum. He winced slightly but in for a penny and all that. She then began to carefully rotate her finger and press it ever so slightly. “Hmmmmmmmm” was his initial thought, then “Ahhhhhhhhhh” was his second. It felt rather pleasant in a weird kind of way. The last time anyone had a finger up there was about five years previous when he had a routine medical from the Doctor. He recalled that wasn’t quite as pleasant as on this occasion though.

He had but forgotten about his flaccid cock as it no longer mattered, he was enjoying himself and that is what mattered. The medical team also appeared to be enjoying themselves to, which made all the difference. What more could a man ask for? he had two stunning stocking clad nurses tending to him and he was at the centre of all the attention.

The sounding was completed and his cock was lubed up and placed in the orange cock shaped receiver that Dr.Jane had gotten ready earlier. This time there wasn’t a trigger for the Nurse to pump on, this was a mechanical device. The dial was turned and the machine began to suck his cock in to the receiver. The vacuum was strong and as it sucked and blew, an erection appeared from nowhere. It had been a while since he had had that hard feeling, although admittedly nothing like in his younger years but this was better that nothing. The sensation of the receiver gliding up and down his shaft felt wonderful. He closed his eyes and summoned up a scene from the dark recesses of his mind. The time he met an older woman back in his late twenties. She taught him a thing or two and this was the first woman to ride him on top. Suddenly he could feel her warm wet pussy sliding on his shaft. His breathing deepened, and very soon picked up the pace. He began to gyrate his hips and he thrust in to her, he wanted to keep it going bit a warm feeling took over him and he felt his cock begin to pump as he squirted in to the receiver. The room fell silent and he opened his eyes, smiling and very happy to revisit another fantasy one day soon.