A Soldier, A sounding; Smithfield to St Marys then off to Sierra Leone

 The marker, I believe, of an experienced Mistress is not just Her successes but also, importantly, Her learning curves. 

He told me he was a soldier, back to the UK for a short while. Attracted to his submissive writing style, especially when he agreed to take Mistress to dinner at a then favourite 2* michelin eaterie in Smithfield we arranged a hot D/s date. (do not let this make you think you should not book me professionally).

The night started a bit off when I was stopped by the City Of London police - accused of looking at my AtoZ whilst driving - of course I wasnt (whoever drives around Smithfield?) and of course they had a trainee to show the ropes - after finally being released from the common curbside I was on my way - the Soldier had been made to wait; as should all males when being presented with highly females accosted by the wayside. 

On arrival I liked him - presented with genuine submissive demeanour I also liked his looks and the fact he was suited up on a Sunday evening (no tie of course) - for nothing can forgo old fashioned trying and chivalrous approach.

'As if it couldn't have been more perfect' (yes, a sentence starting with As) I thought to highlight the small table lamp which turned out to be a candle cover on which I burnt my fingers....

Balls up one: spent whole dinner with fingers in ice

Balls up two: we went for after drinks - he missed his train

Balls up three: I drove him back to his parents in Kent with my fingers in bag of ice.

Of course the eve of the session a week later - which this hot piece - had definitely tributed for - arrived. Apparently he was going back to Sierra Leone straight from Mistress's in the morning but Importantly and in no time I had him stripped on the floor - he had a six pack but importantly he was submissive. I do not remember much about any perverse and evil seductions before hand but:

Balls up four: I clamped him entirely, then sounded the place that needed to be filled & tested. The blood laden sound on the exit was rather thrilling for Mistress but such was his dismay at having to explain this the army doctor, well, St Marys it was.

I mean it's not like he would've gone back to base with the clap or an infestation of crabs - I  tried to assuage his fears (just a burst blood vessel) but ultimately I ended up hiding in St Marys A&E, face behind an Evening Standard as he skulked off to be assessed by the Triage nurse who must of shared his story with all the staff - NHS workers are people too and need some respite from all the gloom.

A few weeks later I emailed to find out how he was. He had enjoyed our time but had decided to find a 'normal' woman to marry and had given up on BDSM. 

Moral of this story? Beware of hot candle covers & burst blood vessels but know that both can usually be remedied; maybe even enjoyed. And never regret the hot soldier you drove both home and to A&E.

The Garden Pegs

 Training oneself over some years - particularly from 2006 - with three particular subbies and not being one for fads, cliques or modern terms I once found myself with a pro session request for 'pegging' bearing this was about 2012-14??, I was definitely up for it. 'Yes this can be done and in Mistress's shadow you shall submit...'

The requests had including, humiliation, degradation, waxing of the bum area, bum things, CBT and pegging - well, being the Mistress of integrity itself  I charged straight down to Poundland to stock up - he was going to get it. 

Unbeknownst to this particular sub I had, over the years, devised a cruel method using pegs - believing it to be the very first - with this session looming I expanded on that; I was going to be the Mistress of Peg Punishment. 

Totally disappointing you all I fast forward to the clean up - the Mistress whose dungeon I shared at the time (Ive had my own space for some time now) enquired as to all the pegs? and I riposted 'he wanted pegging'. Well the look on her face said it all and so did the Mistress herself and how we laughed. 

Needless to say, he came back for more, he goes, he pops up every 4 years or so - and if Fifi returns I'll be bringing out the pegs still, as a stark reminder - we don't always get what we want but of course you might just get what Mistress fancies.

Moral of The Tail- Club Pedestal Memoir

 As you will no doubt know Mistress as the very embodiment of strictness and BDSM play perfection, it may or may not surprise you to learn that one of My greatest 'badges' was a public (ok fetish club) mishap. I laughed then, have regaled since, laughed some more times and these days I think about it fondly with a Mona Lisa smile.

Club Pedestal - 2010 I believe. Cherished subbie of 3 years got dogged up - collared with lead, lovely leather paddy paws and of course, the jewel in the crown - a lovely latex dog tale with plug firmly inserted. 

After Dog got in the first round he was then instructed that, yes he was dog and must be on all fours (never mind his drink) and I paraded him round and about on all fours, every now and then a 'sit', 'beg', 'paw'...

Eventually finding a suitable glade into which I could make a show of him I made a special show off of his dog tricks with treats of pats, a spit in the mouth even. 'waggle your tale' I commanded, unknowingly for the last time; for I took the tail and gave it a jiggle...

Getting back soon but here I should like make a disclaimer; yes, I've always been a person of very physical strength, been told I don't know my own strength but I believed then, still do, to this day, that his virginal like sphincter, that very night, defied & tried to blame it's Mistress strength - that would never do.

Ah, yes, getting back to the innocent jiggle. 

Imagine jiggling a tale and OFF it comes. With that OFF there is a slight pause, a fleeting meeting of eyes of a fair crowd of watchers, then cruelty makes One waft the entrails of dog tail in the air with a cackle. Subbie stands up 'Mistress, it has gone right up, including the ridge, I need to go to the bathroom'. He was excused. At that moment I was contemplating when would, exactly, I get a brand new replacement dog tail plug

The conclusion of the evening was to be what it was; a swift exit, a swift drive home with assurances and then Mistress carrying out what felt like a breech birth - bulbous plug turned, only for it to disappear down and by gosh his tightness that evening belied his generosity in other areas. After truths of the possibilities of 'A&E, Triage Nurses and domestic explanations an expulsion was eventually mustered. 

Moral of the tail?