Four days after our first session together, I’m still digesting quite the mindfuck from Mistress Madox.

As someone who’s seen his fair share of Mistresses in eight years on the scene, none have been able to delve into my psyche and deliver the type of session I’ve truly desired. I obviously hadn’t met Mistress Madox. She’s sexy, sadistic, beautiful and a cruel Mistress, but overall very professional, safe and extremely passionate about her work. She is certainly what this slave in particular has been searching for.

Mistress used all of her feminine wiles, mixed with sadism, humiliation and tantalisation to bring me to my knees and right where she wanted me. Before meeting her, pain was always a taboo area for me. This was mainly due to having a low threshold.

Mistress slowly coaxed me into pushing my limits, effortlessly mixing sensualism with sadism. Each stroke of her crop, tug of the nipple clamps or slap to the face was expertly administered. My pain was her pleasure and also quickly became mine too.

Unfortunately, the weather dictated that it was too hot for Latex, but the image of Mistress beckoning me in with her long silk gloves will live long in the memory. As hot as it was outside, the temperature definitely soared in the dungeon. The room was dimly lit and Beethoven provided a perfect ambience as we sat and chatted in preparation of the session.

Mistress spotted me eyeing up three gas masks which hung on the wall and teased these for later. She had noted all of my ideas and weaved them all together, while putting her own devilish slant on things. My mane of pubic hair was the first thing she focused on. Strapped down to a bondage bed, Mistress shaved my genitalia bald, smiling down as each warm glide of her Razor tickled my balls.

Bound and helpless to the bench, she teased me with seductive smiles and kinky anecdotes. We were minutes into the session and I was already falling under her spell.

Mistress released me from the bench and brought me back down to earth with a hard slap across the face. I was informed that the real fun was about to start. Collared and shackled, Mistress dressed me in stockings and knickers. A shade of cherry red lipstick and blonde wig made me look like a slutty version of Marilyn Monroe. The humiliation was spelt out even further with the words “Slave” and “Slut” painted onto my chest.

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With my nipples clamped, a lead was attached to my collar and Mistress proceeded to kick me into her cage.  I was ordered to thread the lead through the nipple clamps so that she could give them a good tug. I was effectively her puppet whore on a string. After every pull, I was instructed to act out orgasm screams while Mistress laughed and prodded me with her feet. As a reward, I was allowed to run my hands up and down her long black leather boots. They were unspoilt, smooth and simply divine.

caged slave

Caught looking up Mistress’ skirt brought about a good trampling as my penis and nipples were introduced to the tips of her boots. Mistress turned her attention to the gas masks and informed me it was time for some breath play. As the black rubber gas mask hugged my face, Mistress secured me to her rack and sent me floating into subspace with a dose of poppers. A blindfold took care of my senses and I could feel the faint roll of a pinwheel across my chest and a crop across my sore nipples.  More poppers were administered as Mistress tugged on the nipple clamps some more.  Rather than shout out in discomfort, the pain seemed distant, as I was relaxed and fully in the throes of dreamland. As my body shuddered and convulsed, I was gradually brought back down to earth, where I submitted fully to my Mistress.  With my hood removed, I was released from the rack and I fell to my knees, completely spent, but feeling on top of the world.

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Mistress dissected the session with me after, and offered me another cold drink and a hot shower. Both were duly accepted. We parted with a hug and I left one very satisfied slave. The itch to return for a second session will come back long before my pubic hair has chance to grow again. A session with Mistress Madox doesn’t end in an hour. It stays with you for a lot longer.


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