Mistress Emilie

No, it’s not like the one they gave you on the plane.

It’s leather, it’s tight, and it smells good.

You’ll have to rely on your other senses to tell when the next lash is coming.

And you can’t always tell.

Ready for your walk?

Or should I get out the short-leash for a little discipline?

I can teach you how to beg.

Using interrogation, I often like to make slaves confess to their deepest, darkest, most submissive fantasies. One question that’s always fun to beat out of them is, “When did you know you were a masochist?”

Recently, I’ve heard these answers: “In primary school when we tied each other up and tried to get out of the ropes.” “When I first saw BDSM porn on the Internet last year.” “When my college girlfriend used a strap-on to ass-fuck me.” “When my Jr. High school teacher shamed me in front of the whole class.”

But what about me? When did I notice my sadistic tendencies?

Two years ago, somebody wanted me to abuse him physically and verbally and I walked away feeling revitalized. That’s when I began to seriously consider exploring BDSM more deeply.

But I’d certainly felt sadistic stirrings long before then. In fact, my earliest fantasies were sadistic. When I posted these images, I wasn’t lying. For a long time I’d simply passed off my childhood sadism as some sort of infantile phase of psychosexual development. Back then I was too little to link it all up with erotic pleasure. All I knew was that the sound of a witch cackling or a man begging for mercy while somebody whipped him on TV sent my evil, little fingers straight down into my Spider-Woman Underoos. In the dark at night, I conjured up images of bound or confined men (almost always males) undergoing all sorts of creative torments: bumble bee attacks, loud noises, humiliation in front of crowds, unable to escape something gross like my cat’s butt or yuck, kissing!

After age 7, kissing and romantic images from movies and TV replaced my earlier sadistic fantasies and social conditioning succeeded to break my dominant spirit just in time for Jr. High. I was a girl after all, so I had to get with the program and play submissive. I imagine the same thing happens to naturally submissive males forced into dominance by our prudish society.

Each time I dominate a new submissive, I learn something new. It’s exciting that there are so many different and complex people to probe and come to understand. Just as I demand gratitude from my slaves, I am grateful to them for not just allowing me, but begging me, to stand in my rightful place on top.

Leave a comment and tell me when you had your first stirrings.

Today I had to do my own pedicure.

Next time, it might be fun if a lucky slave performed the following:

* Foot soak, toenail clipping, and cuticle clean up.
* Foot massage.
* Apply toenail polish.
* Take pictures of your handiwork for my blog.