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Have you ever fantasized about being subtly but surely dominated by your Mistress in public? Wearing a chastity device, a butt-plug, maybe a remote control dildo while attending an event, theatre, or dinner at a restaurant with your Mistress?
Being in awe, in public, of a woman of the world who is in her element at a restaurant or cocktail bar and at a theatre or art exhibition? Who will know how to treat her minion in public, bonded by an invisible chain of dominance and servitude invisible to the naked eye of the ususpecting world, but demanding, exacting, firm and strong between you and her?
Ms Tytania will order your food and drinks at her discretion, expect you to read her mind, iopen doors for her, and ill probably not be too happy with your lacking obsequiousness, all without exchanging an incriminationg word or deed that may anyone suspect of your anject devotion and servitude to her. What ‘s not to like?
More details on Ms Tytania’s Contact & Tribute page.
Dinner, drinks, art exhibition, theatre or club tickets not included and at your expense. Ms Tytania has an MA in Fine Art and Cultural Studies and a life long passion for reading and high culture, so rest assured that you can take her to the most demanding event and feel dwarved by her knowledge.
Last October I arrived in South London with slave Severin on tow, to film some videos and do a Photoshoot for Femme Fatale Films, run by the gorgeous, extremely dominant, Lady Eleise de Lacy.
I hadn’t filmed for a while and even play with my subs had taken a back seat for afew weeks. A relaity, who cares for you, and how you dare interrupt the flow of my fantasy world? But on the upside, I was inspired and rearing to go when the lights, camera and action were go!
The results, Cindy’s Palace, about a bordello girl who turns the tables on her mysoginist client, and Storm The Office!, can be seen respectively on Femme Fatale Films embers’ site and on my own members’ site, The Urban Chick Supremacy Cell.
Femdom is what you make of it, and I like what I do of Femdom. I hope you enjoy it too!
I’ve just received an invitation to a private party on Saturday, a “Wild & Wanton Watersports Spectacular” and I can wait, The only problem is my cock. I have a wonderful Shenis that I like using in public (it’s what they wre designed for, apparently), since I’ve a tendency to be a tad bladder shy when I’m feeling enthusiastic. It’s funny, the more into it I am, the harder it can get sometimes.
My Shenis, which I think I should have several of, not just one, has the problem of not being, let’s, say, an inbuilt cock. So I left it behind at some party months, ago, I think it was at the First Inaugural Strapon Party. Well, wild parties, you have to lose something or it won’t be wild at all, it would be far too civilized if I went back home with my arsenal intact.
So a few days after the party, I receive this email from the friend whose venue e used: “you left your cock in my apartment.” Fine, he’d left his gas mask and N20 inhaler at mine, so fair do’s. That’s the thing about being a Domme in London, running around from place to place, to make horribly, delightful things to people, always perfectly heeled and fully equipped. And London is a big city!
So I mourned the temporary loss of my Shenis and carried on with my life, feeling ever so slightly emasculated, but with my head in other bits of kit, other experiments to perform on willing specimens.
Bestowing my golden blessings upon my subjects.
Until this invitation arrived, and I decided that yes, I did need my Shenis now, it would be the most fun piece of kit at a party that promises – aherm! fountains of golden youth. I giggled at the footnote in the invitation: “BYO – This is a bring your own drinks event.” Snigger.
But the giggles soon died out. Switched my mobile on to this message from the person who was supposed to have found it, and kept it safe for me: “sorry, I can’t find your cock, I must have put it somewhere, but I can’ remember where”, (not the first time a gentleman makes such a claim, by the way). So it’s missing. One of my favourite cocks is missing. As a fully prepared, fully armed Mistress, I have many cocks to choose from, but only one shenis. Or one ex-Shenis. Oh, woe!
This is a Shenis, perhaps one of womankind’s finest inventions.
“What does Dominance mean to you, Mistress?” I used to hear this question a lot, and I used to hear it discussed years ago. Maybe because now most of my friends in the scene are people who have been exploring their sexuality for a while, and have answers, we don’t need to ask these types of questions anymore. We know who we are in our kink.
I do. For me, being dominant means being independent and self-reliant, accepting a challenge and taking matters in my own hands. Being my own Mistress, choosing to be served because I want to, not because I can’t fend by myself. Many advocates of Femdom imagine a stylized, fantasy world where women are capricious, idle ladies tottering on high heels, lounging lazily on a chaise longe in expensive lingerie, being fed peeled grapes or else their delicate throats might choke in a pip. I always found this images oddly sexist. Far from empowering women, they perpetuated an image of the “fairer sex”, the one that needs to be assisted, helped, coached, protected from that ugly real world they aren’t ready for. These men see themselves as knights in shining armour, but a helpless Rapunzel, playing the harp in a luxurious castle to while away her useless life, has never been my idea of Femdom.
That’s not my idea of a powerful dominant woman. High heels are fun, and having minions doing my bidding is great. But I don’t need them. I want them. I can do very well without them, and I can do so many things better than them, that they’d have a hard time trying to catch up with me.
That’s why I put those pictures of me, at the climbing wall earlier this afternoon. They represent my idea of what makes me dominant: powerful, independent, up for a challenge and overcoming it. Disciplined.
After spending the last two weeks planning, organizing, and finally, having the CFNM, Strapon, WS & Forced-Bi party, and keeping our guests happy and entertained for four hours, I needed some me time. But not of the languidly sipping champagne from a carved crystal glass. I needed to put on my climbing boots, my climbing lycras and hot pants, feel those muscles tensing. Sweat and pant. So here are the pics that my loyal slave, forest, took this afternoon. He still hasn’t caught up with me, but he reckons that his position, strategically located underneath my bum, gave him “a most admirable view”.
Bumshots. The lucky, lucky boy!