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lady M
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My third client was a woman around 15 years older than me, in her early-mid 40s. Her name was M and she was a professional dominatrix, although I always called her Lady M instead of Mistress M – as Mistress R was my dedicated mistress who had enslavement over me. She was a sado-masochist through and through who especially liked to dominate and abuse men but also enjoyed inflicting pain on women as well.
Neither of them ever admitted it to me, but I felt from observing their subtile behavior around each other that Lady M and Mistress R had probably been sexually intimate at some point. If not as lovers, then they had done stuff together – although I was confused and unsure how two dominant personalities would have worked out, unless perhaps they had a lesbian triangle with a submissive. Mistress R had told me that when she first became interested in BDSM, her training mentor had been Lady M.
Lady M stood taller than me, at 6’0” in her bare feet. When she wore any sort of heel, she towered over me, which augmented her already intimidating personality. She was fit, athletic, and noticeably muscular for a woman although not overly butch except maybe a little in her arms from working out. Her breasts were firm, full, round, and stuck out without any sag to them – I first thought she had implants but she was apparently all-natural. Her face wore a constant scowl which had stated to etch its way into her cheeks as facial aging, and her lips were thick and plump from some sort of cosmetic work done on them. She had reddish-brown, rich auburn hair, which she sometimes dyed scarlet red or jet black or some combination of those two, cut into a short severe bob with longer bangs in the front and the back of her neck exposed. On around both arms and around both of her thighs she had tattoos of barbed wire. Despite the almost universal pre-eminence of tattoos in the alternative and goth scene, I myself never cared for skin ink although I did find hers to be rather intriguing and particular sexy.
She was a strong, sharp, demanding personality who made the perfect dominatrix – but away from the dungeon she could sometimes be charming and nice, although she could also turn on you quite suddenly at times – and I never could quite figure out if this was part of her dominatrix working persona, or her actual personality behavior. I felt that some of her abrupt, angry persona stemmed from some sort of trauma she had suffered when she was younger. We never talked much about ourselves, so I only had hunches based on observations or offhand comments to base my knowledge about her.
Lady M had spotted me one night while I was out at a fetish club event with the mistress. She was taken in with my androgynous appearance and my manner of crossdressing, as that night I wore a corset wrapped around my latex tank dress with knee tights. Seeing me as part of my mistress’ entourage, she enquired with Mistress R about me and found that I was available for use.
Lady M lived in the same city as Mistress R but around half an hour out into the suburbs, in a small nondescript split-level house with submerged basement. I remember the first time I arrived there, as Mistress R was dropping me off, I got a hard slap to my face when I joked that her house had a nice axe-murder vibe about it. The basement area, accessed from an external door, was the only part of the house I ever went into. She had converted it into her dungeon area with three different playrooms with assorted bondage equipment and furniture she had custom constructed for her. Around the walls and the ceilings were reinforced black-painted support beams which had various metal hooks and fastener points for bondage set-ups and suspensions. The walls had been painted red and black, as well as insulated so noise and screams from inside, as well as the music she would sometimes blare, could not be heard at all outside. It was quite an impressive and well-constructed set-up that she must have put some good cash into.
BDSM sessions with Lady M were by far the most strenuous and exhausting sexual and physical activity I have ever participated with anyone, Mistress R included – and Lady M would constantly push me both mentally and physically to the edge of my limits.
I never quite understood fully why Lady M, who had her own paying clientele base, still felt the need for hiring my services. I figured she would have no problem at all finding willing male slaves from fetish events for free. When I asked Mistress R one day, I was told Lady M liked me because I was into the same mutual music and alternative culture scene, combined with my crossdressing style and ability and enjoyment of playing sissy and submissive roles, willing to dress up for her and willing to be abused. Mistress R told me that when Lady M found out about my love and openness for anal sex, that there had been the deciding factor which made Lady M want to have me for her own use. Mistress R also told me that I displayed the stamina and mental strength to endure and withstand her punishments.
She loved verbally abusing me and so for her I would wear submissive collars with the words SLUT, SLAVE, and FAGGOT embossed on them. It was during one session with her, while she was stuffing a rubber dildo down my throat while she simultaneously choked my neck with her other hand, yelling at me that I was a ‘cock loving faggot’, that it dawned on me that she was actually right: I was a cock loving faggot, in fact. At the same time, because of my own inner conflicts accepting the gay aspect of my bisexuality, I always felt awkward, ashamed, and uncomfortable when referred to as ‘gay’ or called a ‘faggot’ – something Lady M knew upset me and would use to abuse and debase me during our sessions. Back in those days, if someone asked me what my sexuality was, I was just as likely to answer I was a slut as I would answer I was bisexual.
A few days before our sessions, which would play out over the course of a weekend with intermissions in between for recovery as well as sustenance, Lady M and I would talk on the phone and discuss beforehand the details what she had in mind, vetting each stage with my consent, as well as talk about any concerns I may have as well as her techniques when it came bondage play. If there was something I either did not feel up to performing or I wanted to explore further, I would voice that then. We would also talk about how she wanted me to dress for the duration and any gear I would need to bring with me. We basically came up with an agreed script how and when it would play out. Lady M’s day work was in the film industry so having a script between us mirrored what she was used to in her line of work as well as giving me full knowledge what to expect and when. Outside the dungeon it was all very cordial and professional, but once I stepped into her dungeon, I was completely entrusted in her hands as I went along for whatever wild ride she provided.
I enjoyed playing bitch for her, but some trips heading home I was sometimes discretely nursing the sting of leather burns, bruises, and cramped joints from the punishments she had inflicted on me. Often my ass hurt from being still too raw from leather whips or crops to sit down without noticeable discomfort. I often called in sick those Mondays after I got home, because when I walked around, it could sometimes look like I had been beaten up or had hurt myself falling.
Prior to our session commencing, once I had changed and geared up and we were ready to commence, we would begin with the two of us standing in front each other, about half a metre apart and face to face, and I would recite to her my formal consent to her ‘use of torture on my body and mind’. She would then re-affirm her respect and obedience of our agreed safe words. After the session had concluded, we would repeat a simlar process where we both stated to each other the session had now ended. If eitehr of us had any concerns arise from the particlaur session, we would then voice and discuss them then and there while still fresh in our minds before we then cleaned up ourselves. I have to admit that I would often get an aroused pang of anticipation at the instant when I uttered the word ‘torture’ in my declaration of consent.
Our sessions varied but usually involved some sort of bondage tie-up (my favourite was being spread apart and stretched out with ropes), some sort of physical beating (horse crops were my favourite but sometimes I let her crack her whip on my ass), and some sort of humiliation, either physical or mental. With all three we would incorporate what gear and accessories I had brought along as well as what she kept on hand in her dungeon.
For my outfits Lady M almost always insisted on something that feminized me as well as made my anus and penis exposed and accessible, so I typically wore high heels, stockings or latex leggings, my waist and chest would be bare (unless I wore my inflatable latex bra or corset), and a mandatory neck collar or restraint – my groin and ass area would usually be naked and open.
My face saw the most variety in appearance, as I may have worn a ballgag, or a mouth-dildo, or gimp hood and gag, or an o-ring gag, or her favourite and mine: my Israeli gas mask.
Lady M loved the gas mask not only for the facial bondage aspect that it gave, but because more than anything else I wore it desensitized and transformed me into an anonymous fuck-toy for her. Lady M liked seeing my helpless eyes peer out thorough its eyeholes. Sometimes she would use some black plastic inserts to cover them up, so I could not see out at all. I never tired from my arms and especially my legs tied and spread wide as possible, or bent into some contorted shape with one of her equipment pieces, with her pounding my ass while wearing that gas mask. Being sensory muted and movement negated, gave me some of the best orgasms I ever had. If I miss any one aspect of my time spent with Lady M, it is gas mask sex.
No question about it, easily the most extreme sexual acts I have done were with Lady M – and it went beyond the usual standards found in BDSM at the time.
One time, she had me wear a leather mask contraption that went around my mouth, chin, and neck with a round opening in it where my mouth was, which she then inserted a six inch tube into it as far into my mouth as it went, forcing my mouth and throat wide open. She then attached a bullhorn to it – and while she fucked my ass, it would amplify the unearthly sounds and grunts I would only be able to emit from it. She had also wired it up with a microphone attached, so she could record my wails. She told me that she liked to sometime listen to sounds and screams from her slaves while she masturbated wearing headphones. Years later I was watching some old film footage of olympic rowing teams, and noticed the coxswain bullhorns worn by one of the crew – it look pretty much like what she made me wear and I am sure those were the inspiration for her odd device.
My only experience with fisting was with her, when I let her go easy on me to see how much I could take – I tapped out at three or four fingers as it just hurt way too much and I was worried about what kind of permanent damage she may do to me. But I wanted to see how far I could take it.
However… the most extreme and dangerous acts I ever let her do to me, that I had ever done sexually with anyone, was breath-play. For these sessions, I insisted that Mistress R attend and participate as an observer and assistant, for my own safety in case something went horribly wrong as I felt safer with two pairs of eyes watching over me than one pair. I also had some worries whether I could maintain my own judgment of safety, as Lady M could be very persuasive to push it more and more. Mistress R knew me and my limits more than anyone in this regards and what I was capable. I trusted Mistress R with my life, to put it simply, and I think she appreciate the trust I put in her, as a sign of my respect for her, which further strengthen our own personal relationship inside and outside the scene.
At first we started out with basic neck choking and constriction - as I let Lady M and Mistress R take turns choking me with their gloved hands a few times, as well as choking with some black silk ribbon wrapped and tied around my neck which they would pull tight until I gave the signal that it was enough. Later we would incorporate dildos inserted into my mouth and throat to block off my windpipe as they constricted with the ribbon or their hands. While Mistress R would keep her stranglehold grip uniform and evenly applied, Lady M would use her fingers to work around my throat and adams apple to control my neck and play off my gag response.
But as I have said, she managed to push me farther and farther to the extreme bounds of my limits and we moved on to more serious activities.
Lady M had an execution fetish – and among her assortment of equipment she had constructed, or acquired from movie sets, for her dungeon was a garrotte chair which I let her strap me in and tighten the leather strap that went around my neck.
In the garrotte, your legs would be pulled back around the legs of the chair and tied back with leather straps, a position which exposed your cock to hang out, while your arms were also pulled back around as well, sometimes arching your back forward. On the back of the chair was the strangulation post with its leather loop that went around your neck. I actually really liked how the garrotte felt as a bondage device, being pulled apart in that manner – and later I would incorporate the same position and binding-anchor points with chair bondage I tried on myself at home. Then, with Mistress R carefully watching me for some sign I may be some sort of distress, Lady M would slowly start to turn the noose winch and tighten it around my neck.
My body’s natural reaction when strangled by the garrotte was to arch my back and thrust my pelvis forward, my legs spreading apart from being tied down and this exposed my cock for full display. After holding it for a duration of time, she’d then loosen it, ask how I was feeling (I was unable to speak when it was tight due to how it interfered with my vocal chords), and when I was ready for another round after a few minutes recovery, she would commence tightening again. This would go on around three or four times.
I don’t know if it was due to how one’s blood flow works when under that duress, or simply the sexual arousal I was getting from my predicament, but my cock would be rock hard stiff – and sometimes Lady M, if she was in a rewarding mood and we were nearing the end of the session time, would stroke me off until I shot my load flying out across the room, all while my neck was tightened still gasping for air.
She also had a movie-set noose which she had somehow acquired, that she affixed to the ceiling beam and could use to hoist up and suspend someone safety from their neck as if they had been hung on a gallows. Along with the rope that went around one’s neck, there were straps attached that went around under the armpits to take weight off the neck. She had also attached a metal anal hook to the arm supports, for extra support and sensation. She could also replace the rope noose with leather straps. Despite repeated explanations how it worked and its relative safety, I felt his was going beyond my safety limits and I said ‘no’.
Those involved in this kind of BDSM play need to know what they are doing – and thankfully Lady M was a pro at it. But that said, while enjoying it, the garrotte was probably the most stupid thing I have ever risked my life with. If you have any trust doubts when it comes to neck and choke play, don’t do it.
Last of all, she had a guillotine neck lunette and bascule board built for her (or it may have been another item sourced from a movie set) that she would use for coprophilia and giving golden showers. Her clients would be strapped in on the board, tipped backwards facing up, and then have the neck lunette locked down around their neck. Below it, perhaps to mimic the head basket of a real functioning guillotine, she had a removal basin below the head location where excrement could be collected and re-poured over her victim.
I find anything to do with blood, or shit, or piss, to be absolutely disgusting – but I did want, at least once, at the time, to try rimming. (I would later rim some other partners). So I asked one session if I could be put in her guillotine contraption so I could lick her anus. Lady M readily agreed, pulling her ass cheeks apart as she then straddled my face and lowered her puckered hole towards my mouth and its waiting tongue. Mistress R was also with me at that time too. For a long time I had secretly, really wanted to rim Mistress R’s asshole – as a sign of my devotion to her and her control over me. I told her this and asked her if I could rim her as well, afterwards, which Mistress R agreed to, once my eyes had been blindfolded, as I was not to ever see her private areas.
Mistress R told me later that she enjoyed the sensation of absolute power she got when she felt my tongue touch her – in that she held so much dominion and domination over another human-being that they would willingly lick the orifice where she excreted, to paraphrase her description of the act. Lady M did ask me once how much I earned in a month, and then offered me the same amount if she could piss or shit on my face – but like the gallows noose, I firmly refused.
Unlike Mistress R, whom I never penetrated, Lady M would sometimes take my cock inside her – both vaginally and anally. She had this amazing muscle control over her vagina and could make herself quite tight – one time it felt like she was trying to deliberately crush my cock with her muscles while inside of her. While she was not into men sexually for her own satisfaction, she said she let me fuck her as a reward in exchange for letting her do these acts on me. I was actually surprised when she offered her ass to me the first time, as I thought it was something uncharacteristic for someone dominant like her. But I was not going to disagree and say no, not at all. I never say no to anal, either receiving it or giving it, as I love anal – although it has been very rare for me to be on the giving end, as almost all women I have been with were never into anal and would refuse. The same is true with most men I have been with – they’d much rather just have my ass and I would be too happy to comply.
Lady M also enjoyed receiving pain although in specific manners. Her large firm nipples were both pierced with hoop rings and she would attach nipple clamps to them. Sometimes she hung small weights on her exposed nipples – and sometimes, where I came in, she asked me to tug on her clamp chains. She said it was my means to give back to her any pain she had dealt out that may have injured me, but I while I would pull on them gently until she started to yelp and scream, I never desired to hurt her and once I reached the threshold her nipples could stretch, I held it there, sometimes licking them as well as tugging – which got her off even more. She told me she loved the feel of her breasts being pulled and stretched, and when she was alone she found nipple self-torture her favourite activity during masturbation. She had, in fact, as she told me once, pierced her own nipples – because she wanted to push herself and see if she could pierce herself with the needle there. I found this rather interesting to hear, so one evening we spent together, we actually sat together on the same couch in her dungeon and watched each other take turns getting ourselves off with our favourite masturbation techniques.
The time spent with Lady M spanned a period of around fourteen months, until one day I went to Mistress R and told her I wanted to end sessions with Lady M – after some uncomfortable talk she said to me one session, when Mistress R was not in attendance, that creeped me out and startled me to the point I no longer felt one-hundred percent safe with her. Thankfully to my relief, there was no hesitation with Mistress R about my request. I would still sometimes see Lady M out at the clubs but we never said anything to each other and we kept respectful distance from each other.
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Posted on : Jan 30, 2022
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