‘No one would have believed in the early years of the 21st century that our world was being watched by intelligences greater than our own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns, *they* observed and studied, the way a man with a microscope might scrutinize the creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency, men went to and fro about the globe, confident of our empire over this world. Yet across the gulf of space, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic regarded our planet with envious eyes and slowly, and surely, drew their plans against us….’ H.G. Wells.

In January 2012, whilst orbiting the galaxy, Al1ce – a senior intergalactic researcher intercepted human radio communication. Tired of undressing in zero gravity and indeed the general lack of atmosphere in space, she embarked on a spontaneous detour – an odyssey to Earth.

By the time she arrived, she had one mission in mind – to capture indigenous males and assess their worthiness for eternal slavery and exploitation on her home planet.

Only one such specimen, deemed too pathetic even for extermination survived to tell his tale…

‘I awoke to her stroking my cheek again but this time with a rather increased velocity. I could not move as I was securely strapped down to some kind of rack or examination table. She smiled down at me, it can only be described as the smile of a predator savouring the wide-eyed terror of it’s prey.

‘The white light grew even more blinding then suddenly her intrusive examination began.

‘With a sneering sense of curiosity she observed my responses to her many and varied probes, my reactions to extremes of temperature, breath restriction and ultimately prolonged periods in darkness and deprivation. Instinctively she seemed to know which sensations would when juxtaposed provide optimum discomfort.

‘She appeared to take pleasure in ensuring my suffering was maximized both physically and psychologically. A whisper of her intentions prior to the act left me aroused and anxious as to what I would subsequently be required to endure. If deemed to be tempering my response I was swiftly punished. Rationalisation and indeed reason seemed pointless.

‘It was terrifyingly obvious my worth was somehow being evaluated but for what and why I had no idea. Months later I am still struggling to make sense of how I survived the ordeal, how I escaped her cruel and unusual treatment and why I still feel so compelled to return and prove myself worthy of her intergalactic ownership.’

I always think the best presents are those you buy yourself….of course feel free to prove me wrong. I do owe a special thank you to my rather diligent stocking slave though, the ultimate hosiery ho.

Well I have recently gifted myself an additional winch on my suspension frame which means I now have a grand total of five suspension points – pretty impressive. Not only can I have you hanging/flying by your wrists and ankles simultaneously but everything in between is also destined for a short sharp yank into the ether. Thank you ME!

Tightening the final leather strap around my slave, I stepped back and regarded my creation. He was hardly recognisable as anything more than a mound of rubber, fixed by a lattice of cling-film, tape, chains and rope. His only life-signs were the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the barely audible sound of his contended breathing.

Slowly drifting down to the depths of sub-space I knew he was well and truly in the moment, focusing on nothing more than the restrictive nature of his bindings, the occasional sound of my stilettos on the wooden floor, and perhaps the sweet smell of latex – and what a place to be. Lucky boy.

As I watched him I couldn’t help but contemplate the pleasures of well and truly fixing yourself in the moment. Life has a sad tendency to mentally pull us one step ahead, onto the next obligation or engagement before we have time to appreciate the present. And while a pervert like me would obviously advocate the centering nature of suspension by your ankles at the mercy of a Mistress….I would also suggest watching the odd sunset, lying in long grass and finding the face in a full moon.

Time is ultimately the most precious commodity we own. I try to use mine wisely and (as I am advocating here,) finding the magic in every moment instead of fast-forwarding into the future. For this reason, my Flux Capacitor is well and truly packed away for the time being, as will be my large Hadron Collidor if only I could find it.

Physics aside, the priceless nature of time is why I am so very irritated by people who choose to waste mine. Not only does this mean I start to lose faith in even the most sincere of slaves but having my time purposely stolen is simply unforgivable. Every Mistress I know is plagued by the pests who find it funny to book a session and then disappear off the face of the earth, or cancel at the last minute hoping for a little humiliation or telling off in the process.

Yes, you know who you are…and if you are stupid and pathetic enough to waste my time then rest assured other Mistresses will know this too. I will name and shame you in my blog and forward your details to my sadistic sisters so they do not succumb to the same fate.

Now (deep breaths), I am off to the heights of Primrose Hill to watch the sickly winter sun disappear behind the horizon.

‘Tis the season to be….Malicious.

Well, well, well I can’t believe it’s that time of year again. It seems to have flown by in a quick crack of my whip. There has been slapping, shouting, spitting, tantrums and time-wasters – I am of course referring to the current parliamentary chaos- life as a London Mistress would never be so uncouth : )

My diary is already rather full this month as I am only available until December 16th but I still have a few bookings left so don’t delay. Please note though, my stable is now closed to new slaves until January. So if you dream of an audience with me, you will just have to wait patiently in a dark corner with your head bowed until 2012.

As for the customary seasonal exchanges, well those wanting to gift me can easily contribute to the Malice Palace through the wish list below.

TBC

In return?

The gift that keeps on giving…. ME!!

Enjoy x

For leather, leather, leather….

Here’s a little tease for all you hardcore fans of the hide. A slow reveal of my latest shoot will shimmy across your screens over the next few days.

If you would like some larger images in my main gallery you are going to have to beg. And I mean BEG, plead and whimper like your little leather-loving life depended on it.