I don’t often indulge in humiliation and degradation play. Sometimes a little around the edges of other activities, but very rarely a session where that is a core theme. A few days ago I met a lovely man called Andrew who had minimal kink experience and really wanted to explore these areas. We negotiated thoroughly and carefully so I could understand exactly what he desired and why. After I play with someone I want them to leave feeling great, I know how to do this with teasing, mind games and physical sensations, but to leave someone feeling great after a scene of humiliation and degradation is something I’m less familiar with. We ended up having a fabulous time together, and he left with a big grin on his face! Here’s his review of the session.
Walking from Finsbury Park I am looking for the door between _______. If not exactly Platform 10 ¾, that door is a portal to somewhere a million miles away from North London on a damp Friday evening. Underneath my jeans I am wearing the pair of frilly black knickers I’d been ordered to buy. I had bought them only a few hours earlier, and changed at work, building my anticipation for the session. Sitting on the tube thinking of what is to come had been delicious, and the rub of the lace against me provided just a nice reminder of my transgressions.
Her voice is soft and musical, and she has a range of quietly amused smiles, delicately probing questions and insightful comments.
I had met Claire to talk the week before. I had been interested to just to talk about kinky life and the things to look out for. There weren’t many cosy quiet spaces around Victoria at lunchtime, and it felt for me gloriously elicit to sit in a tapas bar, talking about submission and spanking, as people in suits had work conversations around us. If one searches the net for a Pro Domme, Claire stands out a mile. She dodges all the cliché’s of being a dominatrix, and doesn’t offer a menu of off the shelf role plays. No latex and heels goddess, no head mistress or strict auntie (actually the idea of Claire being a strict Auntie is rather amusing). Instead it’s cropped hair and a style that would fit in at any punky Goth gig, and the kind of body art that distinguishes her generation from mine. Her voice is soft and musical, and she has a range of quietly amused smiles, delicately probing questions and insightful comments. At the start of that meeting there had been no commitment on either side to a session, but they end I could barely contain my desire. I guess that a big part of her skill set is listening, and using that to build an idea what this tongue tied bloke is about, and is there a way to have fun.
So I arrive at her door, thrilled and excited, a bit nervous but having some idea of the person who was going to open the door made the nerves pleasurable ones. The experience I was seeking was that feeling of handing over all control to her, to be completely in her hands. As she would say later, in words that tingle inside me as I write them, ‘I don’t have to have a reason to slap you, I can slap you if I want, where I want.’ Oh yes Claire, oh yes. We talked, she got me to say how I felt buying the knickers, got me to say how I liked to be verbally abused, slotting my fantasies into her plans for the session. And then she took me into her play room. This is a wonderful little space, not a dungeon, not a school room, and certainly not domestic. Warm and dark, a lovely green throne of an armchair, a large bed over a cage, and lots of toys and tools, all with a bit of style, nothing cheesy.
There is a laugh on her lips ‘look how wet you are you old pervert, you’re wet like a woman…
She tells me to undress a piece at a time, and I come under her control. There is no getting into character, it is still Claire, the same voice and smile but she has control. The outside world recedes as it becomes just me and her in this space. ‘How does it feel to be standing there in front of me, naked apart from your frilly black panties?’ She rises from her chair and begins to inspect me, coming close, her body brushes against mine, her hand on back, on my chest then ooooh. ‘Men’s nipples tend to be either connected to their mouth or their cock.’ I guess I am mouth guy. I have had anyone squeeze my nipple before and I had no idea just how sensitive they were. She looks at my cock in my panties. There is a laugh on her lips ‘look how wet you are you old pervert, you’re wet like a woman, were you like that on your way here.’ I melt. ‘Is that as big as it gets.’ I am bent over, and made to pull my arse cheek wide, I feel her eyes on me.
I am led on a tour of her tools, first the ‘hittie things.’ The floggers, the martinets, the paddles, the whips, some playful looking things and some wicked looking things. And somethings that frankly should be handed over in a weapons amnesty. ‘This is something Russian horsemen carry to smash the heads of wolves.’ I had never been up this close to a tawse before and they look every bit as frightening as their legend suggests. But one day, one day I want to feel that two tailed tawse across my bottom. ‘You’re loving every minute of this you pervert.’ Then the canes. ‘Were you ever caned at school, no you were a good boy.’ And then the nipple clamps and pinwheel. Oh my, just the touch of the pin wheel on my nipple is too much, but oh yes.
I had been warned when I had stood with my legs spread and my arms up, ‘this is nothing compared to what I’ll be having you do later.’ Claire wasn’t joking; we began to play a game of reward and forfeit. If I could hold a pose for a time, it would be a success. If I could hold it longer there would be a reward, but if I failed there would be punishment. First position, squatting on tip toes was a success and I got to enjoy Claire’s wonderful powerful body against mine, for a few wonderful seconds. The second was not so good. I crumbled in the chair pose barely halfway towards my target. ‘I am going to give you a smack for every 5 seconds you missed by. You missed by 90 seconds, how many spanks is that?’ My brain was mush; I could no more answer that question than sing Jerusalem whilst drinking a pint Guinness. ‘I am going to spank you, and because you are stupid and weak you won’t know how many you’re going to get.’ Having Claire spank me was so wonderful, but having failed the test gave it a nice edge. I would have been happy bent over that bed with her punishing me for ever. But Claire had another test, a chance for me to redeem myself. The plank pose. She laid the timer in front of me so I could see it clicking down, this time I wouldn’t fail. In the end I was fighting to hold the pose, I wasn’t going to give in. ‘You are shaking already’ Claire’s voice was mocking and playful. I made it and slumped to the soft floor. And then that lovely sensual reward of feeling her lying on top of me, holding me as I lay there.
Time was moving on but Claire had a final little game for me. ‘I am going to make you eat your cum. You are going to cum in those filly black panties and put them in your mouth, they are already so wet.’ Oh, I was going to get to cum for her, but it would never be that easy. ‘How’s your balance.’ As she sat in her throne, all teasing smiles I was made to wank on tip toes, wank standing on one leg, wank with my legs spread wide. ‘Look at how you masturbate those little delicate moves with your fingers.’ ‘What are you thinking about?’ I was thinking of Claire, spanking me, telling me how stupid and weak I was. ‘I bet you are you filthy pervert.’ Finally she lets me drop to my knees and cum, all over my panties. ‘Take them off and put them in your mouth.’ And there she left me, kneeling on the floor, face to the mat with my cum soaked panties in my mouth. And then she put her hands on me, and brought me back to earth.
What is extraordinary about a session with Claire, is the intimacy and the sense that as a sub I am connecting with her, as another human being, not as a role, a persona that is put on like a set of work clothes.
For a few lovely intimate minutes we lay together on the bed, talking about the session, what it had felt like. What is extraordinary about a session with Claire, is the intimacy and the sense that as a sub I am connecting with her, as another human being, not as a role, a persona that is put on like a set of work clothes. That feels like something very brave for her to do. For me there was a feeling of profound wellbeing in that time. As we lay there a police siren rang out, bringing me back through the portal to a Friday night in North London.
That connection though also leaves me with my own challenge, in that I know I fall in love too easily, and I could very easily fall into a very unhappy kind of love with Claire. I want to know her, to continue to be intimate with her. Because as with our bodies, our spirits are held in the same way, she can touch wherever she wants, but I cannot reach out for her, she will always be a spiral of smoke in the sunlight.
Doesn’t that sound like so much fun! I really did have a wonderful time and laughed a lot.
One of the interesting things for me in this session was realising I couldn’t be the cold detached dominatrix he had initially requested. I tried, but it just didn’t happen. I could be quite mean, but with a smile on my face and with encouragement and care mixed in with it. I also had so much fun using almost exclusively my mind and my words, with a tiny bit of physical contact, to create such an intense experience for someone. I’m itching to try new humiliating and degrading ideas and wiggle my way into the psyches of more subby men!
Book a session with me to find out for yourself the true pleasure in being humiliated and degraded. Contact Sir Claire.