Victoria Cayne

Tag: #bostonmistress

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Slave-a-versary

slave a and I recently commemorated two years since Our/our first session! I wanted to share some of his thoughts below:

A short while ago, MVC and I celebrated Our/our two-year “slave-a-versary”. Reflecting on the two years since We/we first met, I was reminded how grateful I am to be Her slave. I feel like I’ve run out of superlatives and accolades to describe what an incredible Mistress MVC is. Each and every boundary-pushing session has been more thrilling, hot, and mind-blowing than the last.

To serve MVC is to feel purpose. To stare into Her beautiful eyes is to be known. To be beneath Her is to know peace.

The tortured anticipation of waiting for Our/our session was almost too much to bear; The knots in my stomach, the sleepless nights, and the erotic charge of longing to serve again. I even felt forced to lock myself back into chastity a few days before We/we played—not trusting my basest of instincts—and wanting to ensure I arrived at the dungeon in as a helpless, submissive frenzy as I could. As I heard the familiar click of the lock and felt the confining snugness of the steel cage, I realized I had been on borrowed time. “This is where I belong,” as MVC would say.

The session was of course incredible! A brilliantly orchestrated barrage of impact play and scratching, electrics, heavy bondage, foot worship, and overall total domination—all perfectly executed as only MVC can.

In a recent tweet, MVC described a photo of the marks left on a sub as how She paints. It’s an appropriate sentiment that only deepens the more consideration is given. Not only do the marks reveal themselves to be art through the simple visual contrast against the skin—but the entire process in how they are rendered is nothing short of art.

Like the greatest artisan, MVC, is capable of eliciting the desired results using Her tools and me, Her canvas. Having played dozens of times now, She knows not only the limits of pain I can take mentally—but the exact amount of pressure and force required to leave her imprint upon me without drawing blood. The result is art, as is the process. A beautiful power exchange between Mistress & sub.

I am so honored to be Hers.

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My True Boston Slut

My true Boston slut…he has evolved from being My toy, to completely being My slut. Used, owned, Mine. My “slut” has played with many well renowned Mistresses, who have led him down this special hole. However, it has taken yours truly, to exploit, twist, and morph him into My creation. Slut, to me, encompasses the urge to completely surrender and succumb to their Owner. Moment by moment, breath by breath, their needs become My desires. That is the transformation I exploit, I create, and I nurture. He is now Mine. My slut. Please read below:

A session with the truly creative Mistress Victoria Cayne always has the feeling of being subtly led into a new level of kink and submission. Every now and then there’s absolutely nothing subtle about it.

My most recent session started as usual; with late in the day directions to arrive with MVC’s cock and balls bound and nipples clamped. It’s great to mentally start a session a few hours early but it can lead to not properly satisfying MVC. This time, the binding wasn’t up to MVC’s standards so things ended up extra tight and with a bit of dangling cord. I was unable to find any suitable nipple clamps on short notice so Mistress pulled out a special purchase…a set of four pronged clamps designed to stay in place while various types of other clamps are used on the now increasingly sensitive exposed tips. It was clear nipple torment was high on her list and even though those little clamps eventually came loose (which of course means they will be tighter the next time) MVC was undeterred. She introduced a very intimate and erotic NT scene complete with a long countdown before she moved to the next phase…which found me bound with my face in a pillow and completely exposed to a set of electrics. It was also clear why MVC lead cords dangling from her cock and balls. She tied them off and then had me push and pull against her. Every movement resulted in a wave of conflicting sensations as the electrics pulsed, the cords tightened and MVC whispered, “who’s bitch are you now?” This went on until MVC had me begging, less for what I may have wanted but more of what else would please her.

Days later, reflecting back on this wild ride of a session:
Nipples sore………check
Cock sore…………..check
Mind blown……….check
MVC’s bitch……….check

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Bound & Helpless

Kneeling on the dungeon floor, collared, and locked, Our/our session began with the privilege of kissing Miss Victoria Cayne’s thigh high boots. It was the perfect start to a perfect session as time slowed and any thoughts of the outside world were abandoned. My entire focus rightfully devoted to MVC.

Once it was clear that I firmly knew my place, MVC led me by the leash to the bondage table. Mistress’s new custom leather arm and leg binders had just arrived in the mail, and I was going to get to be the lucky test subject for their first use.

Sprawled across the table, the scent of new leather gear in the air, Mistress secured my arms and legs in the series of concentric cuffs. The red accents of the gear matching the collar She’d selected for me during a trip to San Francisco nearly a year ago.

Content that I was entrapped to Her satisfaction, my chastity cage was removed. I had been locked for over a month–but instead of being able to enjoy this respite–I was blindfolded and gagged. My world consisting only of the sounds of the elaborate rope bondage being added to further secure the arm and legbinders already on me.

A master of devising sweetly sadistic predicaments, an electric probe was added to keep me on edge. MVC was then free to sit back, relax, and shove Her sweaty feet into my gagged and blind face.

Soon I was worked into a complete submissive frenzy; shaking, and quivering in frustration. Time slipped away with the minutes seeming to both rush by and languish endlessly all at once.

Each and every encounter somehow redefines the meaning of the word “helpless” in MVC’s presence. A sensory deprivation machine was swapped out with the blindfold filling my head with blasts of light and disorienting patterns of sound.

Finally, after endless teasing and denial: I was granted release following a countdown. I lay helplessly bound on the table, entirely spent physically and emotionally, as I drifted down from the ceiling.

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Fun with J in Boston

This is a brief recap of some fun that was had a couple months ago in Boston, with a sub I have developed a deep connection with. This toy had previously served different Mistresses, and upon our first meeting everything instantly clicked. My how far we have come! Thank you for everything, My dear Boston J. I can’t wait to continue further and deeper down this path. Chemistry is such a beautiful thing.

Without further ado, as told by my dear sub, slut, toy, J:

While I wasn’t scheduled to see Miss Victoria until the evening, the process of preparing began much earlier.  I could feel the nerves start at the beginning of the day, and the anticipation building as each hour dragged along.  The chastity device I had locked into place seemed to grow tighter as the day passed.  For a final touch, a butt plug was added mid-afternoon so that my ‘pussy’ would be nicely stretched out.  While I have used these toys before, I had never shown up to a session already locked and plugged.  
Finally, the time to meet arrived.  Feeling nervous and jumpy, I was led into her room and ordered to get rid of my clothes.  I confessed my nerves, which she appreciated knowing as we began.  Still, she immediately investigated my chastity device, wondering how my clitty was doing after being locked up.  
The next half hour was a delicious descent into femininity.  All my male clothing was set aside, and I was gradually dressed and made up to be Miss Victoria’s slut.  A pink satin corset trimmed with black lace.  Sheer black stockings clipped onto the matching garter.  Black ruffle panties framed my ass.  Four inch heels added to my feet.  Foundation and blush, eyeliner and mascara, bright red lipstick too.  A wig to top it off in a cute bob cut.  The final item – breast forms to fill out that corset and add some cleavage.
Miss Victoria hooked a chain to my chastity device and led me to the mirror to see for myself – I was now her transformed slut, ready to serve her in the way she saw fit.  Ordered to my knees, a blindfold was added, and I had to wait for what came next.  A few jingling sounds kept my mind racing until the surprise was pushing into my mouth.  Miss Victoria told me she would face-fuck me hard, just the way she wanted.  Indeed, she had me gulping down her cock until I felt the balls slapping against my painted lips. 
Next, it was time for some fun and games.  Miss Victoria presented me with five small pieces of paper, numbered one through five, each with their own activity lying in wait on the other side.  “Number four” I said with some trepidation.  “200 spankings” Miss Victoria read, with some glee in her voice.  I was quickly put over her knee, and told to count.  Knowing this would push me though, she dealt them out in batches, allowing me to catch my breath when the pain began to build.
I was never put in bondage once the entire evening, and yet Miss Victoria’s hold on me may be stronger than any ropes or cuffs around.  As I lay there for a few minutes coming back to my senses, I knew: this is where I belonged.  And I also knew: I would be back again…
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How Time Flies! (Part II)

Here’s another “blast from the past” review from John J:

I was dressed in pink panties and a pink bra. While on all fours, my balls were tied up tight with rope and pulled back under my legs up toward my ass to eliminate any unsightly bulge in my panties. The end of the rope was also pulled back and was laid across my back then over my head.

Miss Victoria positioned herself and her cock in front of my face. I then began sucking her strap-on, which was continually shoved down my throat past the point of choking. I was gagging and there were a number of times when the gag reflex was so strong that I almost vomited. Miss Victoria seems to relish any sound that might reflect pain, humiliation or discomfort, and this time was not any different. My gagging was usually accompanied by a little chuckle as Miss Victoria voiced her amusement at my predicament.

As I sucked, Mistress Victoria grabbed and pulled the end of the rope tightly, forcing my balls to stretch further up my ass cheeks. This in turn forced my body and head forward, which also forced the dildo further down my throat. The rope trick, accompanied by a firm hand on the back of my head made for an intense strap-on sucking session. My eyes were tearing up from the gagging and choking, but I was in heaven.

Miss Victoria has a great body (and I am picky), and I really enjoyed the sight of her firm and creamy inner thigh where skin met the satin of her stocking, then down to just below her knee where her black leather boots began. I focused on this visual as the dildo hit the back of my throat. It was my salvation, and I was deep under her spell.

As I lay there feeling tingly and content, I heard Miss Victoria moving about. I could hear pieces of furniture being moved around. Finally my blindfold was removed. I turned my head and saw that she had pieced together the mechanism of my next torture. I saw a horse of some sort that sat very low to the floor. There was a narrow pad at a higher level, with two other narrow pads beneath it and to either side (much like a boat with two outriggers). This device was positioned adjacent to a side wall, up against a vertical piece of wood that ran up the same wall. Secured to this piece of wood via a suction cup at the end of it, was a very large dildo placed at knee level. I was led to the horse, which I straddled. My knees rested on the two lower pads. Behind me was Miss Victoria, and in front of me was a large dildo secured to the wall, extending out into the room. It was long, and its length caused it to droop just a bit as its tip hovered near my lips.

I was told to get the dildo in my mouth. I inched my knees forward, and as I did so, the dildo began filling my mouth.  Gentle pushing became forceful shoving. The dildo was going further and further in my mouth. The more it went down my throat, the closer my head got to the piece of wood that ran up the wall.  It was extremely humiliating and I loved it. Miss Victoria seemed to be enjoying it as well. As my head banged into the piece of wood, I felt extremely submissive, and truth be told, I probably would have let Miss Victoria do whatever she wanted to me at that point without question. Even retelling the story makes me feel so submissive that I just want to go to her right now and kneel in front of her while she slaps my face back and forth repeatedly.

I knew that was where I belonged at that very moment.

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How Time Flies!

This review came back around and it is from 2005! This is the first of many reviews with this heavy player, and I figured I would share. It is crazy how quickly time flies when you do something you love.

Enjoy and thank you John J!

As I walked through the door, a very attractive and very fit woman greeted me with a punch to my balls. She followed this up by hurling a wad of spit upon my face. I had asked Miss Victoria Cayne to degrade me, and that was exactly what she was going to do. I was naked before I even left the front hallway, then found myself crawling like a crab down a flight of stairs while spit rolled down the bridge of my nose into my eyes.

I soon found myself lying on my back looking up at Miss Cayne, who was about to light a cigarette. It was at that point that I first laid eyes on the soles of her boots, and especially the heels. They were not just dirty. They were an awful mess. The heels were literally encased in a thick layer of dried up dirt and mud, and I knew that my mouth would soon be sucking away at them. I told her that boot cleaning was an interest when we exchanged e-mail, but I had never dreamed of this sort of filth. 

Before I could fully contemplate what was about to happen, Miss Cayne ordered me to start cleaning her muddy boots with my tongue. I hesitated, not really sure if I was up to the task. This hesitation earned me a multitude of hard slaps to the balls. Not wanting the slaps to continue, I knew I had no choice – so I wrapped my mouth around her heels and started sucking. It was disgusting and awful, and of course, I had an erection. I could feel the dirt crunching between my back molars, like when you eat sandy clams. 

I continued to clean her boots, stopping only to swallow her ashes, or her spit. After she was satisfied, she went and strapped on a dildo. A rather large one I might add. It was time for me to suck her off, and she was brutal. I could barely manage to get it all down my throat, but that wasn’t enough for her. As I sucked down to the hilt, already choking, she grabbed the back of my head firmly and shoved the dildo even further down my throat. Further than I thought possible in fact. I was gagging, and came close to vomiting each time she shoved my head down the shaft. My nose was running all over the place, my eyes were tearing, and I was hoping that she would quickly tire of this game. 

Instead, she told me that I had to swallow the entire dildo 20 times. When I got to 5, I was already in serious discomfort. She was continually shoving my head down, further than it wanted to go. When my gag reflex kicked in (and it did each and every time), she would simply push harder, and wouldn’t let my head retreat. My head would remain impaled on the dildo. I was a slobbering mess. Mucous was pouring out of my nose and down my chin. My throat was sore from the dildo being shoved down it like a battering ram. Somehow I got through the 20, with the last few being very intense as she used even more force than she had before. As I saw the dildo being put away, I was quite relieved. However, I would soon find out that the worst had yet to come.

When Miss Cayne re-appeared, she had a small plastic container. When I found out what was in the container, I was horrified and dejected. More dirt. Apparently, she had a slave sweep up her dungeon, and instead of dumping the mess into a garbage pail, it was all in this small plastic container. Apparently I was to become the garbage pail. Miss Cayne opened the container and started spreading the dirt and dust across the floor. I was then told to lie on my back. I was nervous, and to be quite honest, not looking forward to what was to come.

Miss Cayne started rubbing the soles of her boots in the pile of dirt, then walked over to me and sat down. The boots were hovering over my face, and the sight of the soles was horrible. They were a mess of dirt, dust, hair and god knows what. The thought that I was going to be cleaning them off and ingesting all that was beginning to turn my stomach, and I was close to using my safe word. However, I didn’t want to disappoint her. When she told me to clean them, I again hesitated. Instead of slaps, I got a few knees to the balls. I soon found myself lapping the bottom of those disgusting boots.

My tongue was lit up with the taste of salt. Just as I began methodically cleaning the soles, hoping to scoop much of the dirt off while swallowing as little of it as possible, she told me I had 10 seconds left to get her left sole spotless. I picked up the pace, but her sole was still dirty after the count of 10. She allowed me a little extra time, and I thought they would be clean to her satisfaction. As I looked up for her reaction, the inside of my mouth covered with a sheet of filth, she calmly told me that while I did an OK job, I had taken more than 10 seconds. Therefore we would have to start over again. 

Miss Cayne once again walked over and rubbed the bottom of the same boot sole into the pile of dirt. She walked back to me, once again sat down on the bench, and positioned her left boot over my face. I wanted to run and hide at the sight of it. My saliva had acted like a coat of glue, and the sole of her boot now had even more dirt on it than before. The safe word crept even closer. I wanted to say it, but I also wanted to prove myself to her. I didn’t know what to do. Before I could figure it out, she started gently rubbing the bottom of her sole on my lips, then firmly said “10 seconds” . I decided that if I was going to go for it, I might as well get it done so I wouldn’t have to start over again. 

So I licked like I had never licked before, my mouth piling up with disgusting filth. She appreciated the effort, and I got most of the dirt off. I was hoping that she would take pity on me after that. Most Mistresses I have seen in the past certainly would have. After all, I had eaten more dirt and mud than I probably had in all my sessions in the past combined. Surely I was done for the day. As I contemplated my fate, I heard the words “10 seconds” and was presented with her other boot. Again, I didn’t want to have to clean it twice, so I licked with all the fervor I could muster. My entire mouth was layered with a grit and grime. 

When I finished, she forced my head up and ordered me to look in the mirror. It looked like there was a black hole in the middle of my face. My cheeks, lips and tongue were pure black, covered with soil and gunk. It was a shocking sight. I was both aghast and amazed at what this woman had turned me into. I had crossed a line. In the past, I had licked some dirt, but never like this. I was truly Miss Cayne’s garbage pail. And the most frightening thing was the fact that she seemed to genuinely enjoy it.

This was one of those sessions that I enjoyed more after the fact. I was truly disgusted when I left her dungeon, but I get excited when I think about it now. Usually I don’t go back to see a Mistress when I have these types of experiences, because I don’t want to repeat it. While that is essentially true in this case, I really can’t wait to go back and see Miss Cayne. I have different types of sessions I would like to explore, and I think she would be great to explore with. We talked after the session, and I found her to be a great, down-to-earth person. I am already dreaming up new scenarios for when I go back. One thing is for sure. I am done eating dirt for a while. Maybe a softer and more sensual slut training session is in order!

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Birthday Spankings

A recap of My recent birthday session with slave a:

Collared, naked, and locked-up in chastity: I eagerly awaited MVC to descend the stairs into the dungeon; waiting on my knees; my head lowered until commanded otherwise.

Those moments of anticipation have grown to become some of my favorite. Over time, I’ve found that’s all it takes for me to begin drifting into sub space. A triggered response to being in the presence of my Owner—like Pavlov’s helpless puppy.

Mistress descended looking absolutely stunning as always in Her tall leather boots and new catsuit. I was commanded to worship Misress’s boots and was careful to follow Her every command as I made my way from the toe box across the vamp to the heel and up the shaft of each one.

The next part of the scene entailed being meticulously bound, hooded, and standing against a padded wall of the dungeon. Mistress describes Her play-style as sweetly sadistic—and I can think of no better description. Even as She expertly applied and controlled electrodes to my most vulnerable parts and set the electrical current to newly painful heights, MVC was always checking-in to make sure I wasn’t feeling lightheaded or faint and that I felt safe in the web of rope, chain, and leather She had masterfully ensnared me in. The fact that I could feel so safe and as at ease (akin to putty to be molded however She wished) and in complete agony at the same time from the tortures She was inflicting is a testament to how skilled and capable MVC is as a Domme in composing and executing a mind-blowing session.

With MVC’s birthday days away, I was next secured to the spanking bench for corporal torments for Her amusement and pleasure. I’d be receiving Her birthday spankings and even a few dreaded strokes of the cane—Her name is Miss Victoria CAYNE for a reason after all! All this culminated with MVC scratching Her initials into my back. I’m not into pain, but I take it for MVC. It feels like a true act of submission that I can offer Her: something I fear and dislike, but brings MVC joy. And as much agony as I was in, as Mistress administered Her spanks, strokes, and scratches: I found it all worth it just to have my head caressed and told I did a good job.

Each session is better than the last; each an encounter a chance to go deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole!

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The Journey Continues

Here’s another post of slave a and I’s latest adventures:

“Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays this slave from the swift completion of his appointed session.”

I’m not a postman—but this is an apt description of my feelings as I dealt with trains, cabs, and buses on the way to Philadelphia to serve the singular Miss Victoria Cayne after a major Northeaster. Travel cancellations and power outages meant little sleep the night before as I sought every means of ulterior passage to Her dungeon. By the time I arrived, I was already physically and emotionally exhausted and the session hadn’t even begun yet!

Miss Victoria Cayne’s devious, sadistic mind and striking good looks are only matched by Her professionalism and care for safety. So though I was to be shown little mercy that afternoon for recent transgressions, the predicaments I was placed in took into account the ordeal I had faced that day in getting there, and I always felt safely ensconced in Her bondage.

The session began rightfully with me collared, naked, and on my knees as I waited for MVC to descend into the dungeon. All the stress of travel began to melt away as I took comfort in once again being where I belonged.

After a bit of foot worship to greet Her, I was placed in very tight cock and ball bondage. I had been granted a reprieve from chastity after Our/our last session, but I needed to be reminded who my cock belonged to after a few weeks of freedom.

I was led by the taught twine encircling my prized parts to a bondage chair where layer after layer of bondage was applied. Chain, cuff, band, and rope all rendering me completely affixed to the spot and completely helpless.

MVC is masterful with electric play. She played me like a musical instrument as the electric currents alternated and pulsed between tingly pleasure and pure, painful agony. Ebbing and flowing between sensuality and sadism, increasing in intensity until my brain couldn’t even say what day of the week it was.

After enduring these electrical torments until Mistress was satisfied, I was unbound and told to crawl to the nearby spanking horse. Once again, inescapable bondage was expertly applied–except this time my ass was fully exposed for corporal punishment.

I’m not really into pain or corporal play, but as my relationship with MVC has deepened, I’ve left the activities of Our/our scenes entirely in her capable hands. In total power exchange, She gets to decide how best to handle my transgressions and what I need and deserve. In this case, I was dealt a thorough and harsh spanking. I’m sure more seasoned players could and would have taken much more, but for me it was absolutely agonizing and easily had me in tears and my entire body trembling.

Satisfied that I had learned my lesson, I was untied from the spanking horse only to be fitted into a leather straight jacket and secured to Mistress’s bondage table. Still shaking, I was then teased and vibrated with Mistress’s feet planted firmly in my face.

As always: it was an incredibly intense experience, but this time also particularly emotional in its catharsis. MVC was of course there to make sure I was all right and administer aftercare. It was another amazing encounter in a journey that continues to surprise, challenge, punish, and reward. I’m ever so grateful to be Hers!

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New Review: Smiling while I have my way with you…

A dear Boston toy wrote these words about me after our second time together. He originally told me his interests were spanking, and after a few moments during our first time, I had a way of finding other things that he was too shy to mention. I love figuring out what makes someone tick, and using that to my full advantage! As told by him:

I decided to go for the 2 hour session with Miss Victoria Cayne for my second session with her.  My first time seeing her was only for 1 hour and while a great session, I wanted her to take me further into her world.

Her description of “We’re going down the Rabbit Hole this time ” set the tone for this extended time.

Her professionalism is very impressive and she works hard during the session!  Constantly in action, she didn’t waste a minute in restraining me to the bed, tying me up with straps and zip-ties and using her toys on me.

She literally turned the atmosphere electric with a device that provided a current of electricity to my body. She controlled the level of current and immediately adapted it to my request to lower it.

She is the only dominatrix I will see. She is friendly, keeps up a great conversation and her eyes are mesmerizing.

When she has me flat on my back, telling me what she is going to do next, I’m captivated by looking at her… soft, pretty hair framing her face as she leans over me, a hint of a smile and her intent gaze transports  me to another place in my mind, making me willing and grateful to experience her breadth of knowledge and skills in the realm of BDSM play.

Fortunately, she visits Boston for a few days each month.

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HAPPY CHASTITY-VERSARY!

This is a continuation of slave a’s trip down the rabbit hole of devotion to Me. To celebrate this…I had him go through TSA with his chastity device on… among many other things.  It has been pure bliss watching slave a evolve. What once was never thought of, has now become his reality. Enjoy:

Celebrating One Year of Sweetly Sadistic Bliss

Miss Victoria Cayne has pushed and stretched me as a submissive further than I’d ever imagined. For each new torment She’s inflicted upon me, I’ve felt the rewards in my service to Her tenfold.

It had been nearly one year since I first began serving MVC, and my life had already been transformed in so many ways.

One year ago, I could never have predicted that I’d be granted the honor of serving such an amazing Domme. Or that I would find my cock locked in a steel cage with the keys safely in her care on the opposite side of the country.

The last time we had played together was in San Francisco. MVC had left me completely denied, and I had left Her with the keys to my cage along with a self-addressed envelope to do with as She pleased.

When it came time to fly from LA to New York for a two-month gig, I found myself inside a TSA screening room haplessly explaining to the two officers that I couldn’t remove what had set off the body scan. After being forced to show them the offending metal object, it was hard to tell who was more embarrassed: them or me.

After arriving in New York, I still had no idea how long MVC planned to keep me locked. Until then the longest I’d ever been caged had been a little over a week. Surely she’d release me before our next planned session over four weeks away! But alas, days quickly turned to weeks, then torturously to over a month!

The cage ensured that I woke up each and every morning frustrated and straining and with my submission to MVC on the forefront of my mind.

When would the key arrive?! I checked the mail daily, but who knew if Mistress had even sent it.

At a certain point, I was so mind fucked that I almost wanted to stay locked. It had been so long that it seemed like it would almost be unceremonious to be let out before the next time I saw Mistress.

As our one-year anniversary approached, I finally caught sight of the envelope in my mailbox. The key once again in my possession, I frantically emailed: “Is it ok if I unlock?” Her quick reply left me completely crestfallen: “Absolutely NOT!”

I’d never felt so desperate in my entire life…

The evening of our anniversary, I got another email from MVC:

“Happy year. What are you doing tonight?”

Quick segue to me collared at home with a Bluetooth butt plug filling my ass. I logged into the app for the wearable toy, and before I knew it I was being totally anally dominated by MVC from across state lines.

MVC: “Every time you get excited you know you are to lick it up for Me.”

me: “Yes, Mistress. I can already tell this is going to be more intense than usual after all this time locked.

It’s not the first time MVC has controlled me this way. Over time, I’ve begun to learn the names of Her favorite patterns to torture me with when she isn’t assuming direct control of Her toy. Names like: ’10 Minutes of Hell’ and ‘Moan. Scream. Repeat.’ Each one more torturous than the last—leaving me breathless and panting.

me: “I’m so hard, Mistress. I’m completely pressed against the bars of my cage.”

MVC: “It’s only going to get worse. But it is all for me.”

For over two hours, MVC expertly worked my ass over with the toy. I was so desperate for release, but Mistress was unrelenting. Instructing me to edge with two fingers with what little stimulation I could muster between the bars of my custom steel chastity cage.

MVC: “Now at 2am on the dot, while you remain locked, you are to bring yourself to orgasm. Clean it up. Then when you have finished and are still locked let Me know”

me: “Yes, Mistress. I will do my best. I’m so close—but I’ve never managed to cum while locked before”

MVC: ”There’s a first time for everything. If it doesn’t happen at 2am on the dot, no orgasm and you will remain locked. You can’t cum, you are denied. And if you cum at an inappropriate time, you will remain locked.”

I feverously tried to bring myself to orgasm as instructed.  I was so wonderfully edged and so desperately close! It had been over five weeks and I wanted to cum more than anything.  But the cage was too restrictive. If only the plug stimulated my prostate a little more directly or I was able to get more direct vibration on the cage.

I lay defeated on the bed in a pool of my own sweat as I meekishly confessed to MVC my failure. As punishment, Mistress continued to dominate me with the plug with some of the most torturous of the vibration patterns in her arsenal.

After all the weeks in chastity and the hours of generous attention and brutal torment, I was granted mercy.

me: “I’m sorry if I disappointed You”

MVC: “You are to get on your knees.”

me: “I am so grateful to be Your toy.”

MVC: “Take the key and unlock.”

me: “Thank You, Mistress.”

MVC: “Take the cage off.”

me: “Yes, Mistress”

MVC: “you will cum now.”

It felt like the cum had been ripped out of me. Intense pleasure gave way to painful sensations I’d never felt before as parts of my anatomy went into shock after not having been used for so long. It felt only fitting that my pleasure should come at a price.

MVC: “Happy anniversary!”

me: “Thank You!!!! Happy Anniversary, Mistress!”

I feel asleep with a smile on my face, Mistress’s collar on my neck, and endorphins buzzing through my blood. I was completely used and totally owned and so very grateful to be Miss Victoria Cayne’s slave.

It wouldn’t be long at all before I was locked back in chastity—completely helpless, and right where I belong.

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