Waxing lyrical….

December 30, 2015

Well that was fun. Thanks 2015, you’ve been quite the white-knuckled joy-ride.

And so IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TOMORROW…as if this critical information wasn’t already branded on your little brain. As I blow out the candles on my cake, I shall be reminded of more than a few fond moments because this year seems to have had ravines of molten hot wax running right through its core.

The ritualistic element of such play is something I simply adore. The scented smoke from the extinguished match, the cinematic scene as my face is gently lit by the soft glow, the spine-tingling suspense as my candle slowly tilts, and then the sharp stab of heat as my slave responds to the first, second, third drop and beyond. Oh and those delightful screams…ignored of course.

I was lucky enough to stumble upon a stall selling some wonderfully kinky candles during a visit to the Sexpo at Olympia last November. My favourite purchase – a wax-filled jug which collects a generous pool of red-hot deliciousness just begging to be poured upon my waiting victim. I also learnt the most amazing trick involving two chopsticks, and some elastic bands. Aah, fond memories indeed. Did I mention I received a small flame-thrower in my christmas stocking?!

The only issue with such play is that my priceless cow hide rug is now waxy beyond repair. So if you’re looking for a little gift then the below would be much appreciated. Failing that, any implement of torture will suffice.

FYI I’m giving up chocolate in January so don’t you dare bring even a solitary segment into my dungeon next year. I don’t need to describe the consequences….or maybe I do. Rest assured I will think of a suitable punishment to fit the crime and it won’t taste very nice.

I will be back in my dungeon from January 5th. Until then I wish you all a debauched, decadent and degenerate 2016.


It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas….

December 22, 2015

So cruel, yet so kind!

Well apparently it’s Christmas – and time to temporarily cast off a little of my cruelty, put down my cane, and put up my stilettos for a hard-earned break.

In the spirit of good-will, I thought I would leave you with a little present to warm your extremities and remind you of the most important thing in life – ME. So here I am indulging in my fur fetish and channelling the inimitable spirit of Venus in Furs. It’s also a chance to model my unbelievable new sable coat – an amazing present courtesy of my collared slave. It’s always been my dream to own such a delectable item and this year my prayers have been answered. What a very lucky lady I am.

Feel free to imagine yourself all tied-up, kneeling at the bottom of my bed, torturously close to the red soles of my stilettos. Just don’t forget to imagine the searing pain from my cruellest electrical devices inserted or attached to all of your most sensitive spots….this aspect is exceptionally important. How else will I amuse myself without the controls to fiddle with or your screams to make me smile?

And now all that’s left is to wish each and every one of you submissive souls a wintery wonderland of a Christmas. I hope you find yourself under the feet and at the mercy or someone special in 2016.

Black Friday

November 26, 2015

…Tar black wax, liquorice leather straps, deep dark bruises, dilated retinas….black is truly bewitching.

Having just returned from a little work/play trip to a very sunny and very sexy Hong Kong, I am now truly ready to set sail into the winter months ahead. It might just be the jet-lag and perhaps the fact I was sat by a seemingly endless infinity pool yesterday, but I am also taken aback by the sudden darkness which has descended so early this afternoon. Not that I’m complaining of course. Black is my very favourite (lack of) colour.

Black is the absence of light. Black is mysterious. Black is erotic. Black suggests subterfuge and shadows, elegance and sophistication. It is a symbol of power and control.

Popularised by Coco Chanel in 1926, it has proved to be a fashion staple ever since. Black is ALWAYS the new black.

Indeed almost every cherished clothing item I own (whether it’s a corset, catsuit, boots, or gloves) is non-coincidentally the very same hue. No other shade of latex shines like a freshly polished, slick-black second skin. And leather in any other colour just fails to hit the very same creaking, kinky hot-spot.

In the immortal words of infamous nyctophilliac Wednesday Adams: ‘I will stop wearing black when they invent a darker colour.’

This metaphorical symbol of deviance and darkness is of course synonymous with the austere underworld of BDSM. I used to consciously try to avoid this cliché in my dungeon design but I must now admit defeat. My play space is increasingly dark – in so any ways. I’ve actually come to embrace this inevitability – it suddenly seems so fitting for a theatre full of flickering candles, dancing shadows and suffering. It is as warm and comforting as it is intimidating and anxiety-inducing.

In my dungeon, the power of darkness is absolute. As the door closes, or the blindfold descends, the heart rate rises and all the other senses jump to attention and obey my every command.

As a slave of mine wrote so eloquently:

‘It is like You are a Black Widow Spider, sleek and shiny in Black Leather, having woven an impenetrable web in my weak pathetic mind. Every single thought I have simply causes another unbreakable strand of Your Web to adhere to my naked flesh. Tighter and tighter Your Commandments ensnare me until all I can think about is You- the Gorgeous but Deadly Temptress Who owns me, body, mind and soul. Each and every pair of Boots I see remind me of the Boots for which I truly lust for, and have me longing to be where I truly belong, beneath Your towering Heels Mistress Alice. Your Power is absolute.’

Now I have no idea how this shade actually relates to the biggest shopping day of the year to be honest. But it’s just enough of an excuse for me to pay a little homage to big, bad black.

Now where’s my credit card?

Have an Obscene Halloween!

October 28, 2015

Alice Malice Productions cordially invites you to the red-carpet premiere of my first fetish feature film. Hitting the big-screens this Halloween, it will terrify and titillate in equal measures. The tale of a Lucifer in Louboutins – hell-bent on exploiting her feminine powers – tormenting, violating and torturing her victims before capturing their submissive souls in her own personal Inferno. Not for the faint-hearted, but by far the scariest part….it’s all a cruel trick. Of course. I hope you like my fantasy film poster though, and it gets your pulse racing faster than a ghost train at a funfair.

I never need an excuse for unleashing evil but October 31st is my true spiritual holiday. So with sadistic sincerity, I wish you a very wicked Halloween indeed.

Beware the moon and stick to the road!

If You’ve Got It, Haunt It….

October 26, 2015

And so the winter is upon us. Leaves line the pavements and the sun has gone all shy. Whilst putting my clock back yesterday, I was tempted to rewind it all the way to September. Is that an option? The last few months have whizzed-by faster than my flog after a double espresso, leaving me playing catch-up once again and trying to claw back lost time. On the plus side, the summer may be a distant memory but the season of scares, fur, flickering fires and bitchy boots is now upon up us.

Thankfully the seasons don’t penetrate the thick red curtains or the perennial debauchery of my dungeon. However this Autumn has still resulted in some lost leaves….and the departure of two long-serving (and suffering) slaves. A dog and a doormat have returned from whence they came and will be sorely missed. One of them was thoughtful enough to contribute a little something to my taxidermy zoo…which will be making an appearance on my blog very soon…along with a few other delicacies too.

OF COURSE I have a little treat up my sleeve for Saturday’s fright-fest. But in the mean time here is a rather fetching artwork from my very talented slave to whet your appetite for all things Halloween.

Sole searching at the V&A

August 5, 2015

It seems to me there’s very little left to say about the link between shoes and sex. The power and allure of the sky-high stiletto is a well-trodden (and trampled) path indeed; their potency is undeniable and universal.

So I will refrain from describing the empowering shiver which runs through me as I step into my favourite 6 inch heals; my arched foot and pointed toes slowly descending into the leather encasement below. Or how I arise; mentally elevated, legs elongated, every step transformed into a strut or a slink and a surge of sexuality coursing through my veins. And I definitely won’t mention the desperate look of love on the face of a foot or shoe slave as they tremble, and salivate at the slightest sight of the objects of their desire.

Oh yes I can more than attest to the fact that high heels can be dangerous, deviant and dare I say killer weapons of mass seduction.

As the V&A has made this very subject the focus of their new exhibition – delectably entitled: Pleasure and Pain, I thought it my duty to make sure it lived up to expectations. And who better to invite along than my fellow shoe-fetishist and friend-fatale The Lady Lola.

I am very pleased to say it was well worth the visit. Behind the heavy velvet drapes hid the perfect mecca of shapes and styles, transcending time and in some cases sanity. As connoisseurs of kink we were a little disappointed not to find any slaves licking the cabinets in reverence but soon consoled ourselves by swapping tales of our prized purchases and priceless presents.

Lady Lola owns shoes so high she requires an oxygen supply when wearing them. And I’ve had to extend my flat to accommodate my covetable collection.

We reminisced fondly about the first time we stepped into red-soled shoes, and the associated emotions – ones which have not faded, but grown fiercer over time. I still feel like royalty knowing I leave a flash of scarlet sole behind me…like golden bread-crumbs or the siren’s song.

Oh yes, sublime shoes really are the stuff of fairytales and folklore. As the V&A so eloquently put it: ‘Shoes punish and reward, elevate and entrap, speed and hinder through their powers of transformation.’

If I were Cinderella my single fate would be sealed. No glass slipper would be worth losing, even if it meant gaining a Prince in the process. In my experience the latter are two a penny. The perfect shoe however is a rather rare and very precious object indeed.

Well a Mistress has to have priorities!

If this subject lights your fetish fire then I can highly recommend a little trip to Shoes: Pleasure and Pain. It’s on until 31st January 2016.

Please note: I am not accepting any additional bookings this month, so unless you are already in my diary then you will have to wait until September. Please apply via email.

Full-Seam Ahead….

July 1, 2015

Oh dear, it’s been quite a while since my poor blog received a little time and attention. And there’s an exceptionally good reason for this, both have been in very short supply. So what better way to re-surface than with a super sexy snapshot of me sat in a sun beam. The heat is on.

This was such a fun photo-shoot. We took over a sprawling gothic building in leafy South London, exploiting its spiral stairwells, arched windows and endless walkways. I didn’t realise we weren’t alone until a stream of students poured out right in the middle of our set. Oh well, they didn’t seem to mind, it was their lecturer who proceeded to stalk us. My photographer was on the receiving end of my crop for failing to warn me though.

And talking of disruptions, it’s fairly common knowledge that I’ve had a rather disorderly time at Malice Mansions of late. The good news is that calm and cruelty have now been restored. I am finally back in business, and about time too. I LOVE my dungeon.

Coincidently I’ve just heard that Buckingham Palace is also scheduled for an extensive refit. So given my recent experiences, I have some hard won advice for her Majesty.

1. Carefully label all your storage boxes, especially the butt plugs. You don’t want to be pulling out The Wimp when only The Whopper will do.
2. Invest in as many dust sheets as you can afford (monogrammed red velvet is highly effective). This will save you the endless process of removing residue from your spanking bench, cage, or throne months down the line.
3. Regularly make an appearance on site to ensure your workmen aren’t slacking. It’s not common practice to simultaneously brandish your single-tail whip but it can’t hurt.
4. The exact catsuit or pair of thigh-high boots you deliberate about putting into storage are the ones you will need the instant they’re out of sight. Equally, if you haven’t worn something in a year then it’s safe to store.
5. Vibrators have a mind of their own. They will go off anywhere and everywhere so remove batteries for the removal.
6. Most things will go wrong most of the time. You’re still the Queen, deal with it.

Well that’s my OBE in the bag.

Right, I’m off to make the most of my newly wired electrics, and fresh paintwork. I promise not to leave it so long before making a reappearance though so do watch this space.

P.S. A small shout out to my awesome photographer Matt. He’s a true gem. So whether you’re a Mistress with a shoot in mind, or looking to spoil the Goddess in your life I would highly recommend his skills. He also isn’t phased by snakes…always good to know.

Spring Fever….

March 31, 2015

All hail Easter. It signals the end of denial and deprivation and paves the way for some serious self-indulgence. Of course I’m a big fan of the former, as long as I’m inflicting it upon others. Equally I have also been known to be exceptionally generous too, albeit with large doses of pain. Wow, when you put it like that I really am a well-rounded example of general perfection. And what better timing could there be than now to post a clutch of egg-stremely arousing new photos in my gallery.

Yours truly dressed in the the shiniest latex in the land (and the fiercest boots too) should make for a very memorable treat and put a serious spring in your step. You can almost feel the kiss of my whip, the lash of that cruel metal cane and the sting of my heel as it pierces your pale, vulnerable flesh. Can’t you?

And in true Mistress style, as I give with one hand, I take away with another. I will not be generally available from April 4th for 5 weeks whilst my dungeon is refurbished. By mid-May the amazing Malice HQ will be back up and running with a decent supply of electricity and all my amazing toys and tools raring to go. I am counting the days already.

Long-serving and favoured slaves are welcome to enquire about bookings elsewhere though.

In addition, as an exclusive Mistress lucky enough to already have a stable full of very rewarding subjects indeed, I am only accepting limited numbers of new slaves for the foreseeable future. If you wish to be considered then please email me with a PROPER letter of introduction and if I think we might be compatible I will of course let you know.

Have a cracking Easter from one sexy chick!

All things Alice….

February 9, 2015

I’ve had some spectacularly seminal moments during my career but amongst the greatest has to be the request to model for the legendary Femme-Domme artist Sardax. He wrote to me late last year with the news that he’d been commissioned by a Japanese fetish magazine to create a series of Wonderland inspired artworks. I’m so pleased I was the obvious choice to step into the shoes of the inimitable Miss Alice. Well hopefully I was the only choice. And I think the results speak for themselves.

And what could be more of a fitting tribute as Alice in Wonderland reaches the ripe old age of 150 this year? It’s incredible to think that for a whole century and a half, the enchanting pursuits of its striped-stockinged star have delighted and inspired millions in every way, shape and form imaginable.

Alice will always hold a very special place in my heart. For me her unique journey comprises the perfect mixture of the subversive, the surreal and the downright insane. I’ve always found her tale to be a wonderful allegory for the BDSM universe where we tumble down the rabbit hole and into a perverse world where anything and everything can happen. I’ve drawn upon Freudian images more than a few times in my blog, but perhaps this has to be one of my favourites. Along these lines, I will leave you with the image of Alice at the end of her insane adventures (not all of which were pleasant) as she wakes up on the warm grass of a sunny river bank all the wiser, empowered and indeed self-enlightened. Long live Alice and all things impossible….

The Psychology of the Safe Word…

January 27, 2015

Did you know that even identical twins don’t have the same fingerprints? I discovered this factual gem whilst having my own digits inked a few days ago. Now while I’m aware this blog is running the risk of becoming a misery memoir, I have to admit it’s because I was burgled. Even a safe isn’t safe these days.

Thankfully there’s a small silver lining to this distressing turn of events. It makes an astonishingly convenient segue into an issue which has been on my mind lately – the psychology of the ‘safe word’.

When I started out as a Pro-Domme, I thought the safe word always signified ‘stop play without delay’. However, experience has taught me something different. Yes, even this seemingly cut-and-dried subject is…subjective. That’s BDSM for you.

I now know that a slave’s stance on the safe word is rather revelatory, a kinky clue which can assist me in creating the perfect play-time for us both. It can illuminate their relationship to suffering, control, boundaries, and basic trust in the whole Mistress/slave exchange.

I often get requests to play with no safe word at all. Some slaves disagree with this proposition, feeling it allows them an element of control, and therefore interferes with the sincerity of the Mistress/slave dynamic. How can they really surrender with this pre-agreed panic-button in place?

Equally, I have slaves who want to scream the safe word until their lungs explode as I carry on regardless. This is a fantasy of extreme, explicit helplessness at the hands of a seriously sadistic bitch. …not someone who will simply stop when you ask nicely. Such an individual doesn’t just want to hit the wall but wants to be pushed right through the bricks and out the other side.

Both examples above are most commonly the mark of an experienced player, or someone who needs a certain reassurance that they’re genuinely at my mercy – whether that’s mentally or physically. Of course I can let my whip simply do the talking, but sometimes in the dungeon, the action is actually less relevant than the intention.

On the other end of the scale lies those adamant they definitely DO NOT want to be using their safe word. A slave of this nature wants to play conservatively (at least in the first instance), with the assurance of an explicit ability to regain control if need be. Perhaps they’re not yet confident in me, comfortable with their submission, or the vulnerability that comes with relinquishing power. This is often the nature of a less experienced slave, or someone who has had a bad experience with a Mistress in the past. Often as the relationship between myself and such an individual develops, they can be convinced that boundaries really are there to be pushed.

And finally there’s the slave who’s not happy unless they’ve been forced to say the safe word at least once during the course of a session. It’s evidence they’ve really been forced to go beyond their limits in order to please me and suffered sufficiently to be allowed back again.

As far as I’m concerned, there are no rights or wrongs. Each approach has its merits and its pitfalls. Regardless, as a (safe, sane and consensual) Mistress, I have a duty of care to notice when my slave is sufficiently at his/her limits and to act accordingly whether that involves a verbal cue or not. Surely it goes without saying that I am in control regardless of any of the above?

So is a safe word ultimately topping from the bottom? Well I know what I think but I’d really like you to consider where you stand on the whole subject. Who knows, you might just learn a thing or two about not only your kinky side, but also your vanilla-self in the process.