Some thoughts.

You, and me, and another dominant woman. She mocks you while I run my fingernails across your hot, just-spanked bottom. Or you and me with a woman who switches. While I watch with amusement and give her orders, she ties you down for your punishment. Once she has you tied and ready for more strict punishments, then what? My imagination fills in the blanks.

Perhaps you must serve us both. With two beautiful dominant women, you must be twice as obedient and precise. Massaging our feet, cleaning our heels with your tongue, eating fresh, oozing fruit from between our toes.

Maybe another woman is not what you truly fantasize about. Maybe you daydream about a dominant man joining us, waiting on my orders for you. Or a submissive man against whom you will have to compete for my approval in your absolute submission.

I ponder these things and feel quick with excitement.

A confession.

The first time I pissed on a man, it was glorious.

I had made him undress completely and wait for me for some time alone in the darkened room as I changed into a corset and stockings, put on my heels. I touched up my make-up while I raised my voice to him, You had better be sitting still waiting for me.

While I was satisfied that he had waited long enough, I returned to the room. I could tell he was embarrassed by his request of me. Valentine, I want you to piss on me . . . Please? And thus, we faced one another in the darkened room. His hands shook slightly, though he tried to hide them between his knees, and he would not meet my eyes directly.

I bent at the waist, took his face in my hands, and forced him to look directly into my blue eyes. "Why are you so shy?" I asked.

He said nothing, so I continued.

"Is it because you've asked me, who you hardly know, to piss on you? That's got to be it. Now, get up, go to the bathroom."

He rose and lumbered sheepishly in front of me as I followed him to the bathroom. We were both aware of only the sound of the click-click-click of my heels on his hardwood floor. Once in the bathroom, he flailed about before settling like a flustered bird on his heels in the bathtub.

"Not like that!" I said. "Don't you know anything? Lie down."

He complied. I grasped the rail along the tiled wall and placed first one heeled foot, then the other, into the bathtub. I took him by the hair on the back of his head and positioned myself over him, his face between my soft thighs.

"Tell me again, what do you want?"

"I want you to piss on me," he said in a hush.

"Good boy. Open your mouth."

I guided his mouth into place by the hair of his head and slowly relaxed my muscles. At first nothing happened, then came a great gush of piss from me, filling his mouth. He swallowed, consuming me. The golden liquid spilled down his chin, down his naked torso, until it ran down the drain. I pissed a beautiful arch of piss onto him, and when I had finished, I got out of the bathtub.

I looked at him again, covered in my shower. He licked his lips.

*A fantasy based on actual events.

Alice

I am tutoring the lovely Alice Hatchet, a dominant with a mischievous spirit to match mine. While she is learning the in and outs of this profession, though she is not new to this kind of play or BDSM, she is available to join us in session.

Photos.

I have been asked and have received comments about why I do not show my face in my pictures. This is not because I am not attractive, I assure you, but for other reasons. All professional dominants have their own styles, but mine is built more on this sense of mystery. I do not wish to be easily identifiable by my photos on the internet. I also prefer that my appearance and expressions be reserved for deserving submissives. And finally, if I were easily viewable online, how could I take you out in public and enjoy a nice dinner? All the while you and I knowing some secret, like you are wearing a thong and stockings, or are sipping wine mixed with my effusion?

Halloween.

Fall is arriving in Chicago. I adore fall, the slightly chill air, the changing trees. One of my favorite activities is walking around the city in either the fall, wrapped up in sweaters, or on a winter night with snow falling.

What I love most about fall is Halloween. What other time of year can you dress up as anything you want to be? As much as I am in support of women dressing brazenly, I think the creativity has gone for most. I believe that a stocking-clad leg is always sexier than a bare leg. This is true for Halloween costumes. A well-thought Halloween costume can be far sexier than much of what I've seen.

Sounds

As I was in session the other day, in heels, I took special notice of the exquisite sound of my high heels on the hardwood floor. I contemplate these days a submissive who would be utterly bound and blind-folded, only able to hear and feel, and I think about the kinds of sounds that I absolutely adore.

Of course, the sound of my heels. There is nothing more indicative of that mix of feminine power and pain. What I could do with my heels! That is what this sound reminds me of. I love the sound of the crop on skin. The perfect, well-placed crack. I love the sound of my hand on a bare ass.

I especially love the sound of whimpering. I am not so much a sadist. I do not so much enjoy the kind of whimpering that sounds like please-no-more-mistress whimpering. I love the sound of whimpering that comes from a place of surrender and pleasure, that comes from a place of should I stop, it would be the most cruel thing I could do.

Escape.

I am escaping the city for the weekend. Off to see old friends, and an old submissive playmate. I am excited to see this one again, to see how far he has progressed in his obedience to me. I want to put on my highest heels and walk on him.

In the meantime, I like this photograph of me.