Well I hope all you fetish fiends and serious kinksters have had an amazing time at the London Fetish Weekend. I’m left in no doubt that more than a few rubber outfits will be in need of some TLC by Monday Morning.
And talking of TLC, it’s time to showcase my awe-inspiring play space. My new dungeon has been pain-stakingly put-together in order to meet my most exacting requirements and satisfy every one of my sadistic whims and wishes. I would like to declare without a shadow of a doubt that it’s done, but I always maintain that any serious dungeon is ever-evolving. For now though, I think I’m quite content. And judging by all the ‘wows’ I’ve had, I think my slaves would say the same. Of course it’s had more than its fair share of ‘ows and ouches’ too.
So I think it’s high time I populated my poor neglected Dungeon Gallery with some snaps. I will be putting them up over the next week or two. So if you’re a little too far, or a little too afraid to visit me, you can put yourself in the picture and let that vivid imagination do the rest in the one and only Wonderland of West London.
When Cinema casts its all-seeing-eye down the lense and into the dark world of BDSM I think it deserves comment. For one it’s not necessarily a straightforward or predictably commercial subject matter to tackle. Despite its spiky stigma, BDSM is a sensitive (often misunderstood) creature. It deserves to be stroked carefully with kid gloves, (or maybe that should be latex) until it purrs like a pussy cat.
What it deserves though, isn’t necessarily what it gets. It’s often flogged gratuitously, mistreated, manipulated and manhandled in a truly callous style. The media all too happily overlooks the subtleties and the sincerities behind the scenes in favour of an attention grabbing title or tagline.
Does the media have any kind of duty to represent BDSM in an honest and earnest fashion anyway? What do you think? After all such integrity isn’t synonymous with winning Oscars or smashing profit predictions – all of which grease the commercial wheels of such enterprises. Me, a cynic?!
Moving on. Well despite my media-related misgivings I’m always fascinated to see how the world I know so well is represented….or misrepresented on the big screen.
As an avid and insatiable lover of horror films I’m poised to see what grisly treats ‘R100′ has to offer. Amusingly the plot-line reminded me of more than a few individuals who’ve written to me claiming they want to sign up for an all-consuming experience – handing over control of every tiny detail of their lives. ‘What fun,’ I reply, only to receive a follow up email breaking the sad news. Their MOT is due/they’ve contracted Ebola and maybe this can happen next year instead when they’ll definitely be back in touch. Oh and can they buy me a present (which never materialises) to make up for wasting my time. It is in fact brilliantly predictable. Let’s hope the same can’t be said for this storyline.
As for ‘My Mistress’, well visually it looks stunning. It more than resonates with my own high production values. Coupled with wonderfully shiny latex, and an actor who does it justice, I’m more than intrigued to see how this sexually formative experience unravels. I will be attending the premiere dressed in my most stunning catsuit. Come to think of it my pathetic pool boy can come too.
And as if all this wasn’t enough, with Fifty Shades of Grey also on the horizon, we’re certainly spoilt…for better or worse. Now it might not be Shakespeare but it certainly never claimed to be so there’s no point being snobbish about its literary merit. Perhaps more importantly it’s brought BDSM into the wider public consciousness and apparently the bedroom too. Personally I am all too keen to see what the Red Room of Pain holds in terms of dungeon design. I do hope the set designers have done it justice.
Well all this talk of film has wetted my appetite for finally getting ‘Alice Malice The Movie’ into production. A BDSM blockbuster of this magnitude is obviously going to require a small army of well-trained slaves behind it. Now who’s up for visiting my leather casting couch for a most unforgiving audition?
So I’m kicking off my stilettos and swapping CP for vitamin D over the next couple of weeks. I will return on August 12th refreshed and rejuvenated.
Ever the giving Mistress though, I’m going to leave you with the little seasonal gift of some new photos. You’ll find them in my Bitch next Door gallery early next week. Enjoy!
With the bright sunshine lighting up London, life’s felt like one wicked walk in the park this week. And what better way to celebrate the arrival of summer than with a little al fresco photo-shoot. Strutting in my thigh-high leather boots and skin-tight jeans, I’m not surprised my attire received more than a few admiring glances from passers-by and puppy dogs alike. Sometimes sexiness is simplicity itself.
Of course no dog of mine would ever be let off the leash though. In fact I keep all my mutts on a very short leash indeed. Perhaps it’s a product of my exceptionally strict obedience training but they never seem to mind being kept at heel…or even under it. Then again, would you?
P.S. Watch my Gallery for further examples of outdoor antics over the next week or two.
I think this amazing effort from my talented slave D speaks for itself. I love it. I’m always impressed and indeed touched by such thoughtful creativity. Extra spanks will be on the cards by way of thanks.
It’s strange how my rewards are remarkably similar to my punishments…anyone might think I need an excuse to inflict unlimited pain, frustration and torment upon my loyal subjects. I certainly don’t. Such treats are always on the cards….and as the Queen of Hearts I certainly rule the pack.
I finally found myself catching up with my good friend Mistress Akella this morning. It’s been a while since our paths crossed and she’s looking more stunning than ever. As we discussed details of all things Dominant, our conversation arrived at the sore subject of the big, bad, black list. Perhaps predictably it turned out many of the same slaves appeared on both of ours. Yes, Mistresses do talk. We compare and contrast and warn each other of wasters doing the rounds. So if your ears (or balls) were burning earlier there’s probably a very good reason why.
It never fails to make me laugh/cry when slaves think they can get away with messing around, time-wasting, making disrespectful requests, passive aggression, criticisms, controlling behaviour or down-right lying without repercussions. Choose your opponent wisely and a switched-on, street-wise, cerebral sadist isn’t the best option. Obviously.
I can’t speak for other Mistresses but once you’ve hit the heights of my black list there’s NO WAY OFF. As a more than tolerant individual, once I’m betrayed I don’t forgive and forget. Your card is marked. Beg, stalk, bribe….I’m not interested because in my experience respect is a two-way thing regardless of D/s status and sadly such toxic characters rarely change their ways. Besides each negative encounter or exchange robs precious time away from those genuine slaves who deserve it.
You probably know if your name appears on my list but just to make sure (and to save your time/phone bill) I’m toying with publishing my black list here in the next few days….the Internet equivalent of being locked in stocks in the village square and publicly mocked by passers-by. And who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned punishment?!
Threat? Promise? I guess you’ll find out the hard way.
I am now out of town until Monday 19th. I am off to put the Pain in Spain for a few days.
Have a wicked weekend!!
My new parlour of pain and pleasure is finally finished and raring to go. It’s big, it’s bad, it’s very beautiful and it really has to be seen to be believed. I should have some new photos in my gallery in the next few weeks but I will post them on my news page first.
…Well now I say ‘finished’ – my suspension frame is standing sturdily and all my shoes and boots are safely ensconced in their new home. However, in reality I’m not entirely sure my play-space will ever be complete. Experience tells me that it will ever evolve in order to cater for new equipment or my latest kink. And as a die-hard perfectionist I’m pretty sure that’s no bad thing. Me, hard to satisfy? Who would ever have guessed?!
I never dreamt I would have so much space to strut, or the freedom to nail anything (or anyone) into the walls without repercussion though. I’m a very proud Mistress indeed. And once again a little stock-take has made it very obvious that I have a serious addiction to sadistic toys and implements. Can you really ever have too many?
So all that remains, is to thank my army of little helpers for all their kind assistance, and emotional support. And when I say ‘thank’, of course I mean spit, slap, kick and trample into complete and utter submission.
(FYI: I’m now situated in the lovely, leafy W14 although still conducting occasional sessions from my former dungeon in W9.)
Look away from your screen long enough and you might just notice that spring has sprung. And I’ve had a serious spring in my stiletto-clad-step this week because ball-busting has been a solid fixture on my menu of sadistic delights.
I’ve even inspired some wonderful poetry from my Savoy slave. And what Mistress doesn’t love a little Ode to Her Highness? It’s too good to keep all to myself, so I thought I would share this little gem of inspiration.
‘His look of dread does not appease; the first kick fells him to his knees.
Limp manhood, dulled in pain, he’s ordered to his feet again.
Sensual, superior, commanding and cruel, a beautiful siren suffrin’ no fool;
Is it Cuban stockings, sheer to thigh, which brings the first tear to his eye?
Or perhaps elegant foot, in heel so thin, stabbing soft, submitted skin.
Heel and toe, an exquisite crush . . . surging his body, the pain does rush.
Refined heel, deliciously reared . . . and with precision, his manhood speared.
Is there mercy in those ice-green eyes? Will she relent, to his cries?
Or is she just too late to be stopped, ‘afore his balls, one-by-one, are popped?’
Who doesn’t love a bunny girl? Whether you’re talking Playboy centrefolds, Jessica Rabbit, or even the Cadbury’s Caramel Bunny (who’s quite surprisingly featured in a few fantasies I’ve been sent over the years) there’s something sexy about a hyper-feminine rampant rabbit.
Now as someone who loves dressing up (who would guess?!), you can imagine how excited I was to be gifted these little bunny ears. I was inspired. So in honour of all things Easter, I’ve gone soft-centred like a caramel cream for my latest photo. Rest assured though, there’s a sadistic bitch beneath those innocent candy-coloured hues. And I know you wouldn’t have it any other way.
What a pity my fluffy bunny tail’s hidden away though. Maybe the shot of my perfect rear will make an appearance next year.
Now did I mention how much I love carats…..oops, I mean carrots of course.
Happy Easter, AM x