BASTIENNE CROSS | TORONTO DOMINATRIX
It's like being underwater for just a little too long, seeing the surface from below and realizing you're already out of breath as you float up, just a little too slow. Your chest becomes concave & panic sets in. There's the panic inside and there's the stillness outside. The stillness & weight of the whole ocean holding you, an apathetic witness to your pain. You're somehow aware of this stillness and the futility of your fear, even in the midst of the thousand fire alarms going off in your head. The place where the water divides from the air becomes a fantasy, a day dream, as you draw closer in slow motion. As you surface, your body draws in the most primal breath you've ever experienced. This automated function has earned an amazing new level of gratitude from you, a new level of meaning. You've been forcefully ejected from the mindless pattern you were in & suddenly find yourself in a new, beautiful world. The ocean is warm & kindly embraces you, holding you to the surface, the place you were dreaming about. The sun is bright & feels as though it will never set again. You can taste the salt on your lips and you have no thoughts, just an overwhelming gratitude, a relief, a feeling of sinking back into the perfection of your painless body.
You are here. You are alive.
I am the ocean.
As I wrapped his hands in duct tape I tell him that if he wants to act like an animal, I'll happily treat him like one.
"You want to make me happy don't you?"
"Puppies make me happy"
I wrap the tape around his new paws a few times, I love the sound of duct tape stretching laid over the whimpers of a grown man. I slip my leather belt around his neck as a make shift collar & leash.
Everyone knows that training a puppy takes patience and mommy isn't feeling very patient today.
"You want to go outside?" I ask in a high, excited voice. "You wanna go pee-pee outside?" He whimpers in agreement as I lead him to the bathroom. I position him in the bath tub on all fours and scoot him to the back, making room for myself to stand.
"Okay, we're outside now, I show you what I want you to do" I explain as I pull my panties to the side and relieve myself in front of his face. He's panting as I step out of the tub. I'm training him to clean me up when I make a mess so I extend my leg and lead his face to my inner thighs. "Lick it up". His tongue tries to wander further up, I smack him and with a stern "Bad dog" he learns an important boundary. Like I said, Mommy doesn't have patience for nonsense today.
I'm coaxing him, asking him to be a good boy and pee for me. He seems to be nervous so I wait, telling him to relax and lift his leg like a filthy dog. Finally it starts, a steady stream of urine passing his duct taped paws into the drain. When he's done, I lean down and whisper in his ear, "Does it look like we're outside?". He goes silent and still, trying to determine the appropriate response. I ask him again, "Does it look we're fucking outside? Did you just piss in my house, you little shit?". The whimpering resumes at a higher, faster pace. I slip the belt off his neck, double it over itself and hold it in my right hand as I grab the back of his head with the left, shoving his disobedient face into his own piss. "Bad dog! BAD dog!".
I begin beating his ass with my thick leather belt as he whimpers in pain. I left some lovely marks on his ass, a reminder of his training for the days to come.
Fetishes come from somewhere real, somewhere hidden, some place that needs the sweetness of our sexuality to dilute the bitterness of its darkness. It moves first through the filter of our sexuality, into our periphery. From there we can choose to bring it into the foreground or let it dance in the corner of our eyes forever.
Luna & I had an amazing session this past week with someone who had been bullied in High School. He wanted us to dress like bratty teenage girls, teasing and verbally humiliating him while we deprived him of oxygen and spit in his face. There's a big difference between a contrived fantasy and a deep kink. Both are lovely, the later is breathtaking to witness. I knew how to exact the difference out of this submissive, I asked "What did they call you?" His immediate look of shame and down-cast gaze made my eyes dilate like a predator that just caught a glimpse of it's dinner. That weak spot. That dark place. I'm in.
We proceeded to have an awesome session, genuinely making each other laugh at this guys expense. We even waited until mid session to "steal his lunch money" aka the session fee. He bounded into the other room so fast to grab his wallet, Luna & I howled with laughter.
After he left, I got a nice text from him saying that the whole session was amazing but his favourite part might've been standing at the elevator afterwards listening to us burst into genuine laughter down the hall after he had left. These are my favourite kind of sessions.
Lovely, little sadist living in Toronto, Ontario. This is my journal, where my brain gets to play.