Sensory Stimulation

"So you just like beating the crap out of guys?"

"Well... yes, but there is more to it that I enjoy"

"Such as?"

"The sensory stimulation."

"What?"

The Sensory Stimulation! What a treat for the senses! The smells... leather... ohhhh the smell of leather. You know the smell I mean. When you walk by a leather store in the mall, or when you go into a western store or horse and tack shop. Mmmm leather! 
The smell of sweat, fear, and anticipation. It's not regular "sweaty" sweat. It's different. 
Incense burning. Candle wax. Vinyl. Rubber. 
Plus the smell of sheer sexuality. Pheromones. So many different scents that combine and tease.

The sounds! The music I play is often not even heard. It is overtaken by the crack of a whip, the stroke of a crop, the thud of a paddle, the soft whining and moaning and the crying out of a submissive who has been bound and spanked. The sound of my heels clicking as I walk slowly around my sub. The sound of kisses being planted on my feet. All are music to my ears.

The visual stimulation! A Mistress in a tight laced corset, thigh highs, a rich velvet skirt... a submissive in chains, or wrapped in rope, his body trembling, his forehead glistening with sweat. The red lights. The deep woodgrains of the paddles. And oh, ohhhh the visuals of impact play. His body, my canvas. The crisscrossed welts across his back, the reddening of his ass, the dotted pattern of the pinwheel across his skin. What a joy to watch the colors change from peach to pink to red to purple as I paddle him over and over, to see him arch his back erotically in response to the whip. I enjoy trying different items for impact play to see what kind of marks they make. It is truly art.

Taste- what a delight to kiss his lips, face and eyes... tasting the salty combination of sweat and occasional tears. Unmistakable, and undeniably delicious.

Lastly, my favorite, touch. The feeling of my cool hand on his hot ass after a spanking, or to languidly run my fingers along the welts, feeling them raise up. The cold ice, the hot wax. The textures of the ropes, the straps, the paddles. To stroke a piece of fur across him, to wear felt or satin gloves and run my hands along his body. The feeling of a massage from my submissive, who puts more love and soul and energy into it than any professional masseur would even dream of. Mmmm, the sense of touch. Yes.

The sensory stimulation is truly one of my favorite aspects of bdsm playtime. I am willing to bet any Dominant or submissive would agree.

Harder Than It Looks

Some of my vanilla friends have said things to me along the lines of "Oh, wow, you must have it so easy!" and "Awesome, you have slaves, you never have to do anything!"

Excuse me? Are you fucking kidding me?

Okay, sure I haven't washed a dish in as long as I can remember. Yes, I can get a foot/back/body rub whenever I want. It's just that there is SO much more to it than that. There is interviewing, background checks, references, inspection, training, punishment, play, nurturing, scheduling. Do you have any idea how hard it is to nurture several relationships at the same time? It's quite a challenge. I have to look out for my subs. I have to ensure their safety when they are in service to me. I have to read their bodies during playtime. My live-in slave, it's almost like having a child. Not in a bad way like he drives me crazy, but I have to look out for his health, his safety, make sure he has the things he needs, make sure he eats right. I have to work with them and grow with on a physical, emotional, and spiritual level to truly help them grow both as a submissive and a person in general.

I have files. I have to keep FILES on my submissives so I can keep track of who is who and what is what. Each one has his own limits, his own dreams, his own feelings, his own place in my little puzzle that I call life. What's good for one is not good for another. I have to remember that so-and-so likes this but so-and-so vetoes it. I have to keep track of when so-and-so's last release was, how long so-and-so has been in chastity and so on and so on and so on. I have to update their files regularly as their limits change. I have to make out chore schedules, play schedules, find quality time to spend with each of them.

Here they say, "But you are the Mistress, what they want doesn't matter." Ha. HAHAHA! Ohhh but it DOES. So much. I try my slaves' limits, I push their limits, but I would never, EVER cross their limits. It is my DUTY as a Dominant to respect and care for each submissive as an individual. They aren't animals (though sometimes I like to pretend they are). Happy slaves want to serve. They want to come back to Me. If I have a submissive over for service and play, and I treat him like total crap, he isn't going to want to come back. Then what kind of Mistress would I be? Not a very good one, I'd say. 

Playtime is a whole separate issue. "How hard is it to swing a paddle?" my vanilla friends ask. Let me tell you, I have come out of play sessions where I wonder who is in more pain, my sub or myself. No, it's not hard to swing a paddle. It IS, however, hard to swing a paddle for an hour and a half. Not to mention strutting around in stilettos all day. Good lord. Plus, scenes can get stale. We can't have the same thing over and over. I have to be creative and clever to think of new and exciting activities for a play scene.I have to watch them closely for signs of trauma too. I have to make sure they don't lose circulation during bondage, make sure I don't accidentally break their skin with my whip, make sure, make sure, make sure.

Ultimately, a Domme's work is NEVER done. 

But I will tell you, I love every minute of it. 

Making My Mark

I thought for a while and played around with a pencil and some paper, and have finally came up with my emblem. It's simple, pretty, and exclusively mine. It is nothing more than my handwritten initial (the letter J) with a heart around it, in a circle. It's crisp and neat. Not too fancy. Very nice.

It will be burned or painted on my throne, my paddles, maybe on a collar or two. More intriguingly, it will be branded on the ass of my slaves. Aside from it being beautiful body art, it will be delightfully sadistic, and it will prove my slaves' service and devotion to me indefinitely. It carries a psychological impact on a slave, as it reminds him that he is no longer a free person, but the property of the Mistress that he loves, and who loves and cherishes him as well.

My search for a branding iron seemed easy when I searched "custom branding irons" and yielded over 70,000 results, but the choices made my head spin. There are the kind for branding steak, and there is another kind for branding wood, and yet another kind for branding cattle. There are electric, fire-heated, and freeze branding types available. I would think the best choice would be the steak branding kind, because steak is "fleshier" than wood and not covered in hair and thick skin like cattle.

The branding will be ceremonial, exchanging a vow to one another. His a vow of devotion, service and obedience, mine a vow of love, protection and care. 

Note: ALWAYS attend a workshop or demo of some kind before attempting this kind of play. Serious problems can occur if attempted by an inexperienced or unknowledgable person.

I Feel Pretty (or "Operation: Remove Lost Buttplug")

This actually happened a couple months ago, and I have posted it in other locations, but for the sake of sharing it (it's pretty damn amusing), I figured I may as well go ahead and share it here also. Enjoy!

So there I was, minding my own business, just finished sucking off the hubby when my slave Bacon text messages to me from the front room these weird cryptic messages like " We need to put a chain on this thing " and such. Hmmm. Well I ignore him because, well, he isn't making any sense... again... and finally he comes out and says it.
He has lost his butt plug.
In his ass.
Yeah.
giggle
I have heard of such things happening but have never had the experience. So I ask my fellow pervs for advice. Needless to say there are many jokes made (poor Bacon) and some advice being tossed around. Well I was a labor coach in the past and my first instinct to tell him to squat and push. No luck.
I am still in the bedroom, asking my husband "Should I go help him?" and poor hubby... shakes head poor, poor hubby.... has to be up in four hours to go to work.
Great.
I am now disturbing my husband with my kinky slave adventures.
I tell the slave to just reach up in there and dig it out. I offered ideas... i have an enema. I have a speculum. I have rubber gloves... oh wait, no I don't... I am NOT digging that toy out of your ass without a glove. sigh Squat and push some more.
Sooooo after a few minutes I hear him flitting around in the bathroom, so I go to check on him, and there he is, squatting in the bathtub with a jar of Vaseline, finger in his ass, singing "I Feel Pretty."
Ha!
HAHAHA!
Awesome.
Well I am a little worried now, it's about an hour into it, and no luck yet. He, OF COURSE, just cannot relax, which I decided was the cause of the problem... so I leave the bathroom and come back with a valium and a shot of tequila. Of course I don't want him touching my good shot glass with his vaseline-y ass hands, so i drop the pill in his mouth and pour in the tequila. Down the hatch it goes. I sit there for a bit, googling what to do if you lose a toy in your ass. All the while, I am really thinking about what he is gonna say to the ER doctor when we get there. "Hey I was walking around the sex toy store when I tripped and fell on this buttplug." Hmmm....
Ok, to hell with it, let's try the enema. I will try anything at this point. So now here is my slave, buzzed on tequila, with his face on the bathtub floor, ass in the air, humming "I Feel Pretty" while I pump half a quart of water up his ass. Wait, what's this? It's not going in? OF COURSE the enema tip got clogged, there is also half a jar of vaseline up his ass. Grrr. Fine. Clean the tip. Refill. Try again. In goes the water. Now he sits up, pale and sweaty, he looks like he is gonna puke. Damn tequila. Now everyone knows that you have to keep your ass in the air when using an enema. "Ass up" I say, and off I go to check on my husband, who is now laying in bed, face red, tears in his eyes from laughter. "It's not funny," I say. "Ohhh yes it is," he says "but can you get the damn thing out so I can go to sleep?"
I holler to slave from the bedroom, asking is he is ready to try. He is. I lay on the bed and watch across the hall, my poor naked slave on the toilet, all pale and sweating, pushing and grunting, when I finally hear the "pissing" sound of the enema water.
"Is it working?"
"...No, Ma'am"
"Just water, no plug?"
"... Yes, Ma'am."
FUCK. And then, wait... wait.. he looks... inquisitive.... then pensive... then very very serious... and finally I hear "plooop."
SUCCESS!!!!
I tell him to fish it out of the toilet. Now mind you, after seeing all of what I just described with my own eyes, administering the enema myself, etc, the slave CLOSES THE DOOR to fish the toy out of the toilet. Um... ok? A little privacy to reach in the loo but none needed to reach in his ass? Hmmmm.
Anyway he came into the bedroom and sat on the floor a bit while the three of us enjoyed the laughter and even moreso, the RELIEF! Scary, scary stuff. I feel bad, but I assume no responsibility. This is specifically why he is not allowed to masturbate unsupervised.
Anyway, that's my story. Hopefully it will bring a few chuckles and a little wisdom too. Be oh-so-careful with anal play, my friends.... or you might end up face down in the bathtub with a jar of vaseline singing Sondheim and Bernstein's "West Side Story." I feel prettyyyyy, oh so prettyyyyyy, I feel pretty and witty and gayyyyyyy......

Step Into My Chambers

Hello, my name is Lady Julianna and I am a BDSM Dominant. Just kidding. This isn't a support group, though sometimes writing can have the same benefits as one. That's why I am here. That and, apparently, through no fault of my own, people find my life fascinating. They tell me all the time. So I figured it might be fun to let any interested folks take a look inside and see what goes on in my world. So to answer my most commonly asked questions...

My name is Lady Julianna.
I am a lifestyle Dominant. 
I don't do it for money, I do it for pleasure.
I am not a prostitute, a porn star, a webcam girl, or a sex fiend. In fact, all of my D/s relationships are for the most part, non-sexual. I don't have sex with my submissives. I only have sex with my husband, and an occasional romp with a female.

I am a sadist. That means I enjoy inflicting pain on willing participants. I love the feel of the paddle in my hand, the sound it makes when I lay it across a trembling ass, and the beautiful shades of red and purple that it creates on it's target. I get frustrated, I get stressed, like everyone does, and let's face it, there is no better way to blow off some steam than beating the crap out of someone. Especially if they want you to!


I am Dominant, which means I am a person who likes to be in control. I like having a submissive at my feet. The service, the worship, the obedience... it's all very very good. I love being in control. I can satisfy that need through bdsm, which I must add, is quite a bonus for my husband, because we can run our life together as a team, side-by-side, with no power struggles. 

I am a LOVING Mistress, which means I develop a personal relationships with my submissives. I care about them, I look out for them, and I really do love them. I coo to them, pet and kiss them, and treat them like a cherished pet, all the while administering the intense and passionate pain and control that they crave. I respect their limits. I give them what they need. They give me what I need. It is an exchange of energy and a combining of spirits, just like any relationship. It's a beautiful balance. 

I have submissives of all kinds, from part time play-only subs, to part-time service slaves, to a full-time collared live in slave.  I live the lifestyle 24/7. It's not what I do, it's who I am.