http://shelovesny.com/etiquette/home.html

I remember finding this thing *years* ago and  being so incredibly delighted by it: I know I’ve shared it before either on my old version of this blog or on Max. I rediscovered it as I sorting through some bookmarks. It’s so winsome (and, okay, more than a little twee). To be honest, I’m not terribly good at holding up my end of all the time when it comes to etiquette but I am so very impressed when a man can take the lead in that social dance.

Holy Accidental Blogging, Batman! (Y’all should thank him. I am.)

So without further ado, a few words on gags…

Some of the gags in my collection

I have at least three dozen different gags, ranging from traditional hard as well as rubber ball and bit gags to inflatable gags, piss gags, cock gags, O-rings, mouth spreaders, locking gags, head harnesses, MEO’s Silentium (pictured above, in action) and Raskas, the Scott Paul Humiliator system and other SP gags, and more. (I have about half of the gags on this page, if you need further visuals).

All gags aren’t created equal though. I’m often frustrated by how many can be pushed out of the mouth or still allow for just enough garbled speech to be incredibly annoying.(“What?!”) A few in my collection manage to succeed better than others. The Silentium and Raskas are pretty definitive, the former especially for silencing AND being inescapable. Also good are inflatable butterfly gags and my neoprene breather/piss gag. For low tech, an athletic sock or period panties (i.e. not the skimpy, sexy kind. Stubborn stains optional.) and some duct tape does a pretty stand up job. I’m also fond of “expands in water” sponges, especially for public play. I’ll pop a communion wafer-sized piece in a play partner’s mouth at the dinner table, then smile as I instruct he take a drink of his water. “You should be seen and not heard, baby.” Watching his eyes go wide and his jaw fidget as the sponge expands in his mouth is better than dessert.

When I was sessioning in DC last week, I played with a gag lover who reminded me how sexy a simple “hand over mouth gag” can be. A few days later, I enhanced it with a “hand IN mouth” gag, sliding the gloved fingers on my left hand in the space between his cheek and teeth and covering the rest of his mouth with my palm (this move was paired with two fingers on my right hand jammed into his rectum and my thumb digging into the soft space between the root of his cock and his testicles. “You’re a six-pack,” I told him.).

Open mouth gags, such as my preferred variety, the Spider Gag, are my favorite of all gags (piss friendly gags a close, and similar, second) because usually when someone’s gagged, he’s also pretty strictly bound, and that makes me drool and where better for it to go than his mouth? (Not that deposited fluids are at all limited to spit. Or mine.). Another plus for me with the Spider Gag is hearing his teeth click against the metal. It just sounds really uncomfortable and unpleasant there’s something so hot to me about a guy enduring not-sexy pain for my pleasure.

Would love for y’all to reply in the comments about your favorite gags. If you’ve got a recommendation for a great piss gag, please include a link!

I love the physicality expressed in many of these images taken between 1950-1970 for an Asian bondage club. While most of the pictures are of tied up young women, there are also F/m action shots, F/f, FFf and more. Pictures of women tied with rope aren’t de facto “hot” to me, but I found these photographs surprisingly compelling, perhaps because they’re a little imperfect, the women feel more natural rather than the tableaus of lust or distress depicted in many modern images. I dunno. I’m no art expert. I just like ‘em. Hope you do, too.

I don’t remember where I first saw this link, but I love-love-love the artful, fanciful shoes!

Grantland I follow Grantland’s founder Bill Simmons on Twitter. I’ve loved reading his Page 2 column for ESPN.com for a while. His writing is so good, so inviting and uncontrived, it never really matters what the subject is, he has my eyes til the end. So I was pretty psyched when he announced Grantland, a site for sports and pop culture. The writers were handpicked by Simmons — his own all-star team — and every time I go to the site, I want to read *everything*. I read 3,000 words about the NBA draft, for goodness’ sakes! I don’t even follow basketball! I’m especially a fan of Grantland’s You Tube Hall of Fame feature, since it introduced me to this ka-razy interview with a very coked up Richard Pryor during the filming of “Stir Crazy”  and this Stevie Wonder performance of “Overjoyed” on SNL.

If you’ve found anything good lately, please share with me in the comments!

Recently I played with someone whom I knew to be a fairly experienced corporal bottom (he’d even appeared in several videos) but was seeing me specifically for bondage. Since we had time to explore, I wanted to be sure not to miss an opportunity to throw my whips, promising all the bondage he could handle after. (Thanks again to Bart for the lovely review. I lovelovelove corporal play and don’t get to do it nearly enough.)

For his corporal “warmup,” I bound his arms, wrists, and chest in a wide leather belt from Mr. S. Then I affixed his head to theAnchor Point and spread his legs shoulder width apart with a rigid bar.

Then I started flogging him. Shoulders, ass. A thuddy cow flogger. A stingy Flipcat. Some hand spanking. Nothing terribly intense. This was a warmup, after all. Yet less than 10 minutes into it, he was melting down and his body was giving off telltale “I’m gonna pass out” signs.

I took him out of the bondage and he sunk into a child’s pose (knees folded, bowed forward). “I don’t know what happened,” he said. I didn’t either. He’d eaten recently, was hydrated. And it definitely wasn’t the pain: I’d seen the “handiwork” other dommes had left on him from stunningly bad corporal before. He can take a LOT. What I’d done wasn’t even close by anyone’s measure.

“Are you comfortable like that?” I asked once he’d collected himself and declared he was ready to continue. “Great!” I responded to his ‘Yes, Mistress.’ “I’ll just beat you there!” So I did. More flogging, spanking, crops. Whatever. Sensational. Sometimes intense, but nothing too jarring. I wasn’t nearly ready to be done.

After a while of that, I stood him up against the A-Frame, facing the wall, ankles tethered to the inside of the frame, arms lightly cuffed at shoulder height. Showtime! Out came the dragon tail, the single tail. Mmmm. Happy Troy.

After working over his backside to a nice warmth (and no marks), I turned him to face me. He was blindfolded. I teased his nipples and cock+balls with swooping vertical strokes: butterfly kisses from my singletail. He flinched and contorted and wailed. “Oh, come on!” I was a little exasperated. “You’re too much in your head. You’re overanticipating. Breathe! I’m not hitting you hard at all. FEEL the stroke. Don’t anticipate it.” We kept going. At one point I paused and stepped back to select another single tail. “Please don’t kick me in the balls!” he begged.

Dear lord! I thought. Where on Earth did THAT come from!?!?

I removed his blindfold and resumed with the same strokes that caused him to flinch before. “That’s how you were hitting me before,” he asked, bewildered. “That’s nothing!”

“Yup,” I said. “Told ya.”

I kept it up for a few more minutes, but my whippin’ woody had gone limp. When I put him in bondage, rather than layer multiple elements (e.g. electric butt plug, spiked cock sheath, spiked nipple pads, ball stretchers, other electrics, etc.), I limited it to a leather sleepsack and basic leather hood (wide mouth opening, no gag, no inflation, no sensedep padding/earplugs). Pretty simple/basic for me.

Well. Ok, so I DID pin down the sleepsack by screwing it to the board underneath with metal strips and a power drill … but only at strategic points, just enough that he was aware of the additional restriction, but not so much that I couldn’t get him out fast if he started to melt down again. But, really, it wasn’t much. 

*****

Afterwards we talked at length about the corporal segment of our scene. We were both surprised at how little he was able to take, particularly given his history/experience. He observed, “I’ve never been in uncomfortable bondage before and I’ve never been so strictly restrained for corporal. I mean, maybe cuffs to the cross but never anything I couldn’t at least get out of.”

I chuckled at this. When I’m binding someone, there’s no getting out. I’d no sooner springclip a cuff to a frame than I would …. I dunno. I can’t even imagine. (For the record, I use padlocks. On just about everything. Nearly all my bondage gear — belts, cuffs, bags, gags, even hoods — are lockable. When I do use a springclip, it’s a superfluous stay at best. Or I think you’re a pussy.)

When I stopped giggling, I thought about what he said. It’s really rare that I do any scene without layering different elements. If you’re in bondage, there’ll be some CBT/NT. And vice versa. If I’m spanking you, there’ll be some restraint, even if it’s just my body pressed against or twined into yours, keeping you still. If I’m piercing your cock, you’re probably gagged, too. If I’m caning your feet, your nipples may be pinched and stretched with clover clamps. I like layers. It’s just how I play.

Interestingly enough, a few weeks later, after an overnight scene, my play partner wrote me:

The way you layer a scene one piece at a time is a complete thrill. I think that’s a piece that was missing from those recent Reviews. Whether it’s the buildup or the wind down there is always something going on. It’s never just okay I’ll tie you up and beat you; or okay the beating is over so now I’ll quickly untie you. Each level and layer are unique and special. Even sleeping is not just sleeping but the layers of being tied in the sleep sack, having the chastity cage pulled tightly through the opening, adding the ear plugs to muffle a lot (but not all) of the sound, putting on the mask and then hearing the cage door locking shut all add to a wonderful night and enhance feelings of your control that I (for one) seek out.

I would love to hear your thoughts on layered play. Please share them in the comments. Thank you .

So here’s why I haven’t been working on my site or blogging in the last few weeks. A lot of it had to do with my vision still not being 100% post eye surgery. Reading backlit text, such as one might see on a computer screen, has been particularly challenging. After working through my initial site changes, I had such stabbing eye strain pains I was nearly bedridden. So I’ve been laying off the computer. (This is also why you may not have gotten a timely reply to your email.)

I had the tremendous pleasure of hosting Mistress Crimson of Chicago at Salon d’Orleans. We had a blast doubling up and dining down during her stay. I can’t wait for her to come back.

Susina Vespa

Then I bought a Vespa. In Long Island. Suffice to say, the logistics involved were…substantial. I won’t even mention my DMV adventures lest I get all huffy all over again. But all my efforts paid off and I’m now the very, very happy owner of Susina, a beautiful LX150 Vespa two-seater with a matching top case. Isn’t she … a peach? Teehee.

Last week, I completed a grueling two day safety course which also allowed me to fulfill the road test requirements for my motorcycle license. On Thursday, I went back to the DMV and now Susina and I are legal!

Bart gets suspended in rope

Memorial Day Weekend was spent in Chicago for Shibaricon, the annual rope bondage conference. This was my fifth time attending this incredible event, a combination of classes dedicated to rope bondage and evening play parties where everyone gets to show off their skills. This year featured hands-on classes and demos by some of my favorite Shibaricon presenters, including Scott Smith, Suzanne SxySadist, Greydancer, Leon Monkeyfetish, and Sir C as well as renowned educators such as Midori, Lochai Stine, and Mark Yu.  I learned some terrific new ties, reinforced some riggings I already knew, and wore my hands rough with rope. Since I’m on a rope high right now, I thought I’d share the love. For the rest of June, you can book a rope bondage visit with me and save $150 on the two hour Tribute. So if you’ve always wanted to explore classic Shibari bondage, rope suspension, ass hooks, nose hooks, hogties, predicament bondage and more: now is your chance.

Since I started this post (it’s been nearly a week now that I’ve been trying to finish it), I happened to reply to a thread on Max Fisch started by Mistress Alex about Top 10 Favorite Things to Do . Just for fun, I’ll also throw in a 10% discount on any of the scenes on my list for the rest of June as well. You have to ask for this discount when scheduling the session to receive it.

During the Fetish Marathon June 3-5, I also had the pleasure of hosting Bart of Syren Productions. Apparently Bart knows how to sweet talk me, because not only did he convince me to go to the SMack! party with him that weekend, he also got me to let him shoot a video clip! of me! dressed in latex! singletailing someone! That’s like way too much shock for one sentence, isn’t it?! Look for the clip exclusively on www.TroyOrleans.com later this month.

MTO in latex hood

While I was hanging out with Bart, we made a visit to Purple Passion after a walk along the Highline. As we wandered around (he was looking to buy a pair of latex pants), Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl” came on the store sound system. I grabbed Bart’s hand and commanded him to dance with me. It’s a perfect song for shagging, after all. I tweeted about it and was  surprised at how many of my followers thought when I said “shagging,” they thought the appropriate response was, “Oh, BEHAVE!!” But no.

Also, please note that I’ll be traveling a bit this summer. I’m away June 17-20 and I’ll be in Washington, DC June 22-23 (where I’m looking forward to crossing off another ball park from my list). I am also going to be in the south of France, near Cannes, for two weeks beginning July 25. This is a personal trip I’ve been wanting to do for a looong time and I’m so excited about it I could just pop! (a bottle of Champagne?). If you’ve spent any time around there and have suggestions for day trips, places to eat, etc. please drop me a note in the comments or via email.

And, finally, I appreciate everyone’s patience with my ever so slow site update. It is a work in progress, to be sure. When it’s done, it’s gonna be awful pretty…and useful. Promise.

“Could you, just one day, send me a story that actually has some possibility of happening?” I asked him.

The next day I get a tantalizing description of a scene where he’s tightly bound and I tease and torture his cock and balls while forcing him to watch Madison Young clips on Hogtied. “She obviously knew that I found her to be incredibly arousing in such situations,” he wrote. “Instantly, my cock was rock hard and I was doubled over in pain. Even without looking at the screen, the sound of her cries were continuing to arouse me. God it hurt.”

The CBT continues, intensifying until he’s alternately begging for release and begging me to stop. “Sure enough, as the video was finishing (and I was crying with desire to explode) the doorbell rang…apparently what I was going to have to watch was not going to be on a video….”

That’s where it ended. It could have gone anywhere from there but what came up was this idea of contrasting the experience of watching a video with what it’d be like to see a similar thing in person. Would it be as arousing in real life?

The part that troubled me, though, was having to torture a woman. Logistically it was a problem because I don’t know many pro femsubs. But, more significantly, whenever I’ve hired them in the past, I’ve found it difficult to really push the scene. There’s something … perverse? to me about taking someone to a place of surrender as a voyeuristic, commercial experience. Genuine submission…surrender…subspace…whatever you want to call it…is just so intensely personal, so intimate. I worried about taking someone to that very vulnerable place and having that rawness on display for a stranger’s benefit. Worse, what if I got her waaaay out on the edge and my client needed attention? Who is my priority?

Elle came recommended to me by a mutual friend after my initial choice didn’t respond. I’d met Elle a week or two before and liked her tart wit but had no idea she subbed professionally on occasion. When I met her to discuss the session, we talked about how challenging it is to get your needs met in a pro scene. She explained the motivation of her masochism, which I strongly identified with (less submission and more a test of personal will). I promised I’d start with some of her favorite types of play as a warm up but warned her about my trouble doing intense play with women. “So I don’t know if you’re really gonna ‘get’ anywhere, but if you could just moan and whimper a bunch and fake an orgasm or two, we should be great.”

But that’s not what happened. At all.

When I finally removed Writer’s blindfold, he saw Elle in a lacy bra and panty set, gagged with a bright red ball and suspended by her wrists, stretched above her head. He, meanwhile, was sitting upright on the bondage table, wrists and ankles cuffed, spread, and locked in place. A metal spike KTB dug mercilessly into his hard cock. His head was in slight traction stretch of a tautly held leather head harness and, as he took in the spectacle before him, I snapped his balls into a spiky parachute and stretched a lead from the terminal ring to a pair of nipple clamps I attached to Elle’s now exposed breasts.

I started with my favorite flogger, a sensuously thuddy elk mop from Heartwood. “Mmmmphhhh!” noised Elle.

“Good girl,” I thought to myself, smiling.

Honestly, I don’t know what happened next or what pushed me to go there. Maybe it was the sheen of sweat I noticed on her skin, dampening her hair. Or the perfect pitch and urgency of her cries when I landed a particularly heavy strike. I worked my way through the increasingly more intense implements — a beefy cowhide flogger, a toughened bison then, inspired, a pair of thick, heavy rubber sticks. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and jerked her head back to look her in the eye, searching for confirmation of what I was feeling. I gave her a wink. She stared straight back at me, like a dare. Oh, yes.

Off came the nipple clamps and on went a leather bondage belt with a strategically placed D-ring that I reconnected to Writer’s parachute. “This will keep you in place,” I told Elle. Then I rigged the Hitachi at her crotch level, forcing its irresistible buzz against the growing wet spot in her panties.

Whoosh! went the floggers, the rubber sticks. I pulled up close to her so she could feel my heat and breath on her skin, then unleashed a torrent of hard punches on her back and shoulders until her knees buckled. I went and stood next to Writer, taking in the view with him. Drool hung from her chin, her hair was wet and matted against her face. Her breathing was ragged, her skin shining with sweat. “Look at the tremble in her hip,” I whispered to him.

“I know,” he said, awed. “It’s amazing.”

“I’ve never seen this side of you,” he said, looking at me. Then he said something about “teeth” or “glee.” I was riding so high in top space, I could barely understand him.

Releasing her arms from overhead, I braced them, crucifix-style, along a bamboo pole. Then came the canes. Thick birch. Rattan. Polyurethane. A sjambok. The skin on her ass ashed and hardened. I showed her the short metal rod, a gift to me from a somewhat infamous lifestyle player, first. “I know you know where this came from,” I teased. Then I struck her with it six times. The ball gag did nothing to muffle her very real screams.

When I finally unbound her, Elle crumpled, sodden and sobbing, against the foot of the bondage bed. I wrapped her in a towel and held her tight. “Good girl,” I murmured. “Look what you did. Look what you did, my good girl.” She shook in my arms. When it seemed she’d collected herself enough, I wrapped her in a robe and tucked her in the bedroom. I went back out to unlock Writer and got as far as his right wrist when I shuddered and gasped my own cathartic tears.

It’s taken me a while to write this. Elle, who also writes, told me that she’d been trying herself and every time ended up making gestures at her screen and getting nowhere. What happened that day was so unexpected and so honest, that I think it resists articulation. Even Writer had trouble expressing himself: “I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would, but it was so real, and so intense, and she and you both were getting so much out of it that it was really gripping.”

I suppose the lesson here is one of surpassing limitations, be they Elle’s physical capacity or my preconceived notions of what I think is possible.

Maybe it’s all just an excuse to post this picture of Elle’s bottom. When she sent them, she told me, “I got a standing ovation for the bruises on my ass tonight [at an event she attended]. I feel like that standing ovation totally belongs to you.”

No, darlin. To us.

TOSU by MEO

“You’d have to tease your ass with the cold tip while your legs trembled and you’d be looking at me, begging with your eyes for permission to sit down on the plug. Eventually, I’d say ‘Yes’ and gratefully, you’d sit, filling your ass with cold, unyielding metal.

“Then I’d uncuff you and re-bind your arms so that your hands are on your shoulders, like wings, and I’d tip you over onto your knees, so that your elbows are now the stumps you’re resting on. The plug is firmly embedded. You’re gagged. And then …

“Either I’d lean over you from behind pressing my naked body into yours and rock you slowly back and forth while I pumped your cock with my hand. Or I’d change your gag, lasso your cock and balls tightly, plant my pussy in front of your face and repeatedly jerk you back and forth by the balls until one of us comes.”

Coincidentally, earlier this morning, another play partner commented, “Some of your best techniques involve just telling me what might happen. Unlike with most people, it’s really effective with you, because I know from repeated experience that you are always sincere and could well do it.”

I wish I could explain why this makes me so happy. Maybe it’s because, despite being in the “dominatrix fantasy business,” I don’t spend very much time at all pretending and, apparently, it shows. Fantasies, I’ve always felt, are best regarded as blueprints for what’s actually going to happen. Maybe it pleases the journalist in me that understands that truth holds more power than fiction.  Maybe I just like it cause it shows they trust me — and with trust, we can go anywhere.

It should make YOU happy because it actually inspired me to post a new blog. Now that I’ve broken my unintentional silence, maybe there’s a flood to follow.

This birthday was probably my best ever. I’ve been utterly humbled and blown away by all the love and enthusiasm and positivity and support sent my way during this celebration. Thank you so much to all of you who directly contributed to making my birthday AMAZING: Cards, flowers, emails, texts, and gifts. While I did put a lot of thought into my wishlist, I did not at all anticipate the overwhelming response it generated. The sense of validation and appreciation I felt was … just… Holy Shit! You guys like me! You really, really like me!

I am the luckiest domme ever. Thank you.

Now here’s to lots of great play, inspiring connections, and kink for all in 2011!

There’s nothing like a milestone birthday to prompt a taking stock of life: what you’ve done, what you’re doing, what’s ahead. I’ve been exploring the BDSM scene for nearly ten years, most of those years as a professional dominant. It’s been an incredibly fulfilling experience being able to play and connect so positively with so many exceptional people. I’m tremendously proud of the practice I’ve built, the reputation I’ve earned, and the relationships I have with my play partners.

There are no shortcuts in this business though — well, not MY business. Over the years, I’ve devoted myself to learning as much as possible about the craft of BDSM from some of the most well-regarded practitioners. I’ve attended numerous conferences, workshops, and public classes, and hosted private tutorials for myself as well as the prodomme community. When I started Salon d’Orleans in 2007, I made sure to invest in a space that would afford my play partners’ convenience, safety, and privacy as well as an environment that reflected the commitment, sophistication, and sanctity of what took place inside. I also made a point to devote my practice to a select few so that I could give each play partner a connected, personal, meaningful experience rather than a by-the-numbers routine that merely scratches an itch instead of satisfying a very real need.

In the “taking stock,” however, one of the things I’m increasingly aware of is how costly it is to maintain my business. I can’t really “work harder” — I’m at near-capacity already. I’ve stopped buying equipment (though some may argue I could have done that a year or two ago) and found other ways to reduce some of my expenses. Since my previous renter retired the past Spring, I’ve been looking for a domme to share my studio with and have even tried taking on an apprentice but neither option has come to fruition.

I’ve always said that part of why I’ve been able to create the practice I have is because I’ve had other options. I had an active, successful career in another field when I started domming and have maintained a sideline gig all along that will be my career once I retire. In other words, I do this because I want to. But it’s hard to keep making the choice to continue doing this work if it means sacrificing my own needs and desires so that I can fulfill yours.

Writing this wish list is much harder than you might have expected. It’s really hard for me to ask for anything — especially when it’s just for me.  In the past, when I’ve posted wishlists for my birthday, I’ve always listed gear or suggested you book a session because you’d get something out of it, too. But this is a big birthday, it means a LOT to me, and it’s only happening once. So I knew I wanted to ask strictly for personal gifts and as I started to think about the things I wanted, I felt frustrated that there were so many things I really, really want that I can’t afford to get for myself.

So here’s your big chance to not just say “anything” but mean it.  If there’s something on it that you’d like me to have but you can’t quite foot the entire bill, you’re more than welcome to make a discreet donation via PayPal to (MTO at TroyOrleans dotcom) for an amount that’s accessible to you. Needless to say, those of you who step up will benefit in a multitude of ways from my appreciation. (And if you opt for #1 or #2, I’ll give you two free ONEs in 2011. Ask me about the fine print.)

Thank you for your thoughtful consideration. I’m counting on y’all.

1) Lasik Surgery. You want to literally change my life? I’ve worn glasses or contacts since I was 8 years old. Technology has caught up with my special needs eyes and I’ve finally been approved for the procedure. I will send you a profound and heartfelt “Thank you” every time I open my eyes to see my bedside clock without putting on my glasses first. Please contact me directly for details.

2) A New Vespa LX150ie with Top Case. In Bronze. (That’s the idea, though I’d be quite happy with a pre-owned model with the right specs) One of my ‘things’ when I travel is to rent a Vespa to see the city and I’ve been wanting to own one in NYC for years. Since I blew out my knee, it appears my skiing days may be over. A girl has to get her thrills, and what better way than a Vespa. It’s sexy, transporting, and useful!

3) A 12- or 24-pack of sessions with an Equinox Tier I personal trainer. Give to Troy Orleans. My membership at Equinox began as a gift but now it’s a part of my life. I love going to the gym and could really use a trainer to help me fine-tune my workouts so that they’re more effective. Who doesn’t want a stronger, fitter, hotter MTO?

4) Frequent Flier miles or flight certificate. You know I love to travel. My preferred airline is USAir, but I’ll take anything that flies out of LGA or JFK. I’ve been itching to get back to London for another visit to my friends at Fetters. Other wishtrips: Barcelona, Morocco, Vietnam.

5) Anything from my Amazon Birthday Wish List.