Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Gift Ideas (Thanks to Miss Poison for This Blog Entry)

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Incredible Mind Play (by Ms Zea's will).



my imagination, which is usually active for several days before meeting with Ms Zea, had kicked up a notch. i arrived at the directed time and found before me a folded piece of paper fastened on the door which displayed a simple typed command.

“COME IN”.

This was certainly not the usual start for a session. Removing the note, i opened the door and went in. Closing the door behind me, i stood alone in the foyer of the Toronto Power Exchange. My mind was racing with a touch of apprehension, uncertainty and excitement. Several pieces of bondage equipment sitting on the desk before me just added fuel to my overworked imagination. Opening the folded note, i was given further instructions. i was to remove my clothes, put on the equipment laid out in front of me, crawl on my hands and knees into the room containing Ms Zea’s impressive Throne Chair, and then kneel before it in silence.

As i proceeded to follow the instructions, the challenge to the given command would soon became apparent. After undressing, i buckled on the leather body harness, then fastened the fantastic leather Collar Ms Zea had custom made and bestowed on me around my neck, attached the chain dog leash to my collar, placed the spandex hood over my head and zipped it nice and tight. The final item was a leather blindfold, which when buckled securely over my eyes eliminated all sight.

In total darkness, i lowered myself onto my hands and knees and felt my way through the curtain into the Throne Room. It took a few minutes to manouver around the various bondage equipment by touch alone, crawling around in my darkened world, finally finding the legs of the empty Throne Chair. i placed myself center to Her Throne and presented myself as expected, kneeling upright with legs spread shoulder width apart, hands clasped behind my back.

And i waited. Wrapped in silence.

i tried unsuccessfully to pick out any background sounds but the sensory deprivation of the hood and blindfold left me locked away. Not knowing what was next. How long since i had knelt before Her Throne? Was Ms Zea even here? Time started to blur, a few minutes becoming dozens? The anticipation of the unknown in me was building. i projected images of Ms Zea on the blackened screen of my mind. Adding more excitement to the ever present feeling of the unknown.

After an uncountable time, i thought i heard the faintest creak. Somewhere behind me or to the side, i wasn’t sure and it didn’t repeat itself. Another pause then Someone had taken my nipple between Their fingers and started to pinch and twist it. Then both nipples. The Person doing this was now sitting in the Throne directly in front of me. Without a word spoken. The intensity of the pinching and pulling was increased and i had to bite my lip to keep from uttering a sound. They released them and a few moments later i felt something cold being traced around my smarting nipples. Which felt very good until what felt like the bite of a metal alligator clip being attached on the end of each nipple. The extremes between soothing comfort and then sudden hurt took my breath away, forcing me to again concentrate on not making any sounds and trying not to move (which just caused more tugging on the now tautly held chain joining the clamps, producing flashes of more pain). After much continued torment, They stood, pulling upwards on the chain between the clips on my now throbbing nipples so hard i was almost pulled up off my knees. After several moments, they let go of the chain and then pulled up on the dog leash attached to my collar.

Still without a word spoken, i was pulled to my feet and led forward and stopped with my front touching what felt like the St. Andrews Cross. First one hand and then the other was taken and fastened in the leather cuffs bolted at the top of the cross. i was then pushed up against the middle of the cross as the thick leather waist belt was drawn tightly across my back. Tightly bound against the cold wood, my still clamped nipples where now being pressed and tormented anew. i wondered if i would left bound this way long? Still no words were spoken and the identity of the Person dominating me was not known.

my mind didn’t register the whistle on the flogger moving through the air before my back felt the bite of the whip explode across my back. The flogging had started in earnest, with the whip being laid down on both shoulders with skill and strength. No warm up, just right into it. After a dozen strokes with the whip, my Tormentor scraped their finger tips up and down my back, tracing the stroke marks. Then a different flogger was used, first across my back and then over my buttocks and inside my exposed thighs.

As trained, i made the effort to pull against the thick waist belt and present my buttocks to receive the strokes of the flogger. This in turn pushed my chest forward and put more pressure against my clamped nipples, causing increased pain up front as well as my now stinging back.

The punishment continued. The Person disciplining me then used several various rubber straps and paddles on my buttocks and again used Their fingers to squeeze my now flaming buttocks.

As the discipline continued, i rode the resulting endorphin rush to a point where colors swirled against the darkened place made by the tight blindfold. Still not a word had been spoken but the intermittent sounds of the floggers and the straps striking on my now hot back and bottom filled my ears like music.

Even now, i was not sure who this Person was. Though it could be Ms Zea, there were enough things done differently so far to cause doubt. And if it wasn’t Ms Zea, who? Ms Zea had once brought another close friend and experienced Domina unannounced into a previous session (i was once again hooded and blindfolded) where i only became aware of Her presence when being subjected to a double flogging. THAT was incredible!

The splash of cold water down my smoking back forced a gasp from my lips that broke my own silence. The rubber straps and floggers stung far more on wet skin and as the punishment resumed the pain levels shot up accordingly. This had me now tugging harder on my bindings on the Cross as my Punisher landed the implements across my backside, first finding some barely touched spots and then striking more abused areas. Again i was getting lost in the rhythm of the strokes, the frequency and intensity changing as They had me dancing against my bonds.

i hadn’t really noticed that the punishment had stopped for good when i suddenly felt this Person up close behind me, massaging both shoulders adjacent to the base of my neck. This action helps release more endorphins and intensified the incredible rush of pleasure.

As i twitched to the waves of bliss running through my body, i heard a familiar tantalizing voice in my ear ask “So, do you know Who this is now?”

To be continued…

Saturday, January 9, 2010

In Praise of Miss Poison (by "x").





We spend our whole lives struggling to understand ourselves. We Struggle
to get where we want to go. Wishing we could be who we want to be.
Defining success and happiness and moving towards all that.

A wonderful life has a much simpler and direct path. It involves giving a
small part of yourself, then more of yourself then all of yourself.
Eventually all your intellect, your heart, your passion and your soul
burns and begs for a take-over.

When I first saw Miss Poison I was totally seduced. She was not
interested in that but it is a tool to her. Her sexuality, her brilliant
mind, her incredible taste in clothes, the way she breaths, her incredible
beauty and style and grace gradually take you over. You feel yourself move
from the center and your only desire becomes to make Miss Poison happy.

At first I felt it. Then I fought it. Then I gave into it and now I long
for my role as her entertainment. I can tell you I was a totally
independent male. Now all I crave is Miss Poison’ s approval. The
slightest sign of happiness from Miss Poison means more to me than every
other woman I have ever known.

After two years, my heart still races as I approach the door. When she
opens the door I feel weak and humble but excited and longing. She is the
perfect woman to lay your body, soul and heart at her feet. She will leave
you breathless and starving to see her again.