Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm truly grateful this morning for an incredible experience I recently had that I would like to share with you. I love writing about my sessions and always do, usually in my journal that nobody ever reads. Every so often though, I experience a session so amazing, so unbelievably great, that I feel inspired to share my experience with like-minded folks. My last session with MVC was a session like that. This isn't a review, because her reputation already proceeds her and she is very well known. I'm just sharing the joy I experience being her sub and her toy. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy my account of a wonderful weekend in November.

In Chastity For Mistress Victoria Cayne

Sessions with Mistress Victoria Cayne are an incredibly beautiful sensory overload that I never want to end. So much is happening, often simultaneously, that I sometimes have trouble remembering the sequence of events. Writing in my journal is the closest thing I have. That said, I will now try to describe one of the most incredible weekends of my life.

We agreed afterward that this session brought us to a new level. It deepened the intimacy between us. I was sincerely contrite for not being outside in front of the hotel when she needed me to be. I also made a few other mistakes born mostly from anxiety and over-eagerness that I won’t go into here. My repentant state of mind put me in a very submissive headspace. When I humbled myself before Mistress Victoria, I wasn’t just playing a role, I felt it in my heart. I wanted her to forgive me, but of course she already had.

When I knocked and she opened the door, she was wearing a beautiful black lace top, the black leather gloves I adore, panties and nothing else. She wasn’t wearing stockings or her beautiful lace up boots yet, because she allowed me the honor of putting those on myself.

She told me everything would be alright—allowing me to rest my head on her leg while she tenderly stroked my hair. She ran her fingers all over my body, the electric warmth of her touch making every nerve ending spring vibrantly to life. Soon, my clothes were off and she was teasing me with her feet, rubbing them all over me and pushing them in my face so I could worship. She was spanking my ass, biting my nipples and teasing me unmercifully. I felt every bit of resistance melt away as I became totally and completely hers.

Donning a garter belt, she allowed me to put on her stockings, patiently reminding me to smooth out the nylon as I rolled them down her beautiful legs, so they didn't get crinkled or bunched up. When I finally reached the top of her thigh, she’d pull the suspender strap down and help me push the button through the stocking top. My reward was being allowed to worship her stockinged feet, passionately sniffing and kissing the bottoms as she pressed them to my nose and lips, an act of devotion that never fails to deepen my submission and bind me to her inexorably.

“These stockings have no seams,” I observed.

“I decided to have mercy on you this time,” she replied, laughing.

Next, Goddess allowed me to put on her lace up, black leather boots. I’d requested this pair specifically, and she’d sent them ahead to the hotel, so they were waiting for me at the front desk when I arrived. I slid them onto her feet as I sat beneath her on the carpet, meticulously lacing them up while she dug her stilettos into my flesh. Finally, she allowed me to worship them, kissing and licking the soft leather to my heart’s content as she whispered words of encouragement from above. This is a sacred ritual for me—another act of Goddess worship I adore and never tire of.

After some delightful and much-needed boot worship, she had me bend over the bed and began flogging me. I’d been worried about being too sensitive to take corporal punishment, but her whip warmed me like a roaring fire on a cold winter’s day.

“Good doggie,” she purred as her whip rose and fell, “you’re taking this very well.”

Next, she gave me 10 cane strokes, delivered with force and precision while I squealed and moaned. I was out of practice and they were difficult to take, but I wanted to take them for her.

“It’s alright, doggie. Breathe…”

By the time she was done, I was floating on a cloud of endorphins. Her cane left beautiful purple welts on my ass that I’m still gazing at with pride and fascination three days later.

Goddess said she’d had her fingernails done just for me. To prove it, she raked them across my back, making me cry out time and time again. At one point she had me kneel up and scratched her initials into my back. Later, she scratched MVC into my belly and chest, so I could see her initials better.

I was deep in subspace when she asked me if I wanted to be her guinea pig. Of course I said yes. She attached me to an electro-stim box and brought the current up slowly, boring into my soul with her hazel eyes.

“Can you take more for me, doggie? Breathe and relax. That’s a good boy.”

I really felt like Mistress Victoria’s slave this weekend. She opened me up in a whole new way. I’d purchased a chastity device for the session, in hopes that she’d lock me up in it and tease me unmercifully. Mistress helped me with the cage. She's a genius with kinky gadgets, nevertheless it was no easy task getting it on. She used plenty of lube, but even so, I winced and yelped plenty. She pulled and tugged, fiddled and pinched, until somehow, miraculously, she managed to get it on. I was finally in chastity for Mistress Victoria Cayne! I adored the feeling of belonging to her in such an intimate way. It felt meaningful and deeply sexy to surrender to her completely and give her that kind of control over me. Once the cage was on, I felt my submission to her deepen.

With my cage finally on, Mistress Victoria took me into the bathroom and baptized me.

“Open wide, doggie. I hope you’re thirsty!”

After tormenting me for her pleasure, MVC sent me home all locked up. The chastity device felt strange, but not uncomfortable beneath my jeans. I passed people on the street and thought, “if they only knew.”

She summoned me in the morning. When I knocked on the door and she allowed me to enter, I saw she was wearing panties and a t-shirt. Within seconds, I was kneeling beneath her while she sat on the bed above, pushing her wonderfully fragrant feet in my face. Her aroma acted like an aphrodisiac, stimulating the canine synapses of my brain.

Mistress had me climb on the bed and attached electrodes to me. I whimpered as she turned up the current.

“You want me to turn it up higher, don’t you?” She smiled, probing my eyes. “Ask me to turn it up more.”

“P-please turn it up, Ma’am,” I begged.

She turned the dial and the intensity of the waves increased, surging through me like an electric tsunami and setting my nerve endings ablaze.

“Take it for me, doggie. Trust me completely. Breathe and relax.”

Here I begin losing the sequence of events. So many things were happening at once. MVC became a dynamo—whipping, biting, pinching, scratching, all the while continuing my electric stimulation. It was total sensory overload. She seemed to take sincere delight in hurting me. Her sadism was joyful and her enthusiasm contagious, spreading to me and allowing me to take more pain for her. Watching her, I was momentarily reminded of a little girl at play. I felt very fortunate to be her toy. It’s amazing how intuitive she is. She pushed me hard, but never quite over the edge. How does she know where the line is? I feel more deeply bonded to her than ever. I love belonging to Mistress Victoria Cayne. Any doggie would.