Queen Kali Rain Dominatrix

Professional Asian Dominatrix in South East Asia

The most beaututiful and powerful professional asian Dominatrix in Hong Kong, Malaysia, Macau & Thailand.  Bondage, Discipline, SM, CBT

My Journey in London and Glasgow.

Travel is my path to Mastery. I can say London is one of the places I used to dream about, that someday I would visit, and I would have a chance to meet other submissive with different fetishes and fantasies. Also my chance to step out of my comfort zone. So it's a dream come true that a certain submissive discovered my talents and invited me to come to London. It's also good that a good friend owns a dungeon in London: Hoxton Dungeon and I was lucky enough to be able to stay there for two weeks.


I loved being in London where I could express who I truly am. I got  a chance to visit LAM (London Alternative Market), a monthly fetish shopping and kinky coimmunity event, and got a chance to play in public, whipping and flogging; it was so natural that I didn't even notice the many people milling around and watching.

I was able to visit Torture Garden, a place that I never imagined existed. Kinksters were wandering around in their favourite fetish outfits, drinking, dancing and playing. They were free to do whatever they liked; there is a dungeon where one can play with a lot of people. A master and submissive were playing in a corner, with a few people watching, and everyone was totally unconcerned. A submissive was walking around holding a flogger, and asking every mistress he came across to flog his butt. Torture Garden is a real paradise!


The World of BDSM is Alive in London! The reason I stayed there for two weeks was to meet and session with various submissives. I am grateful to Saint Laurence. She guided me, especially in one Double Domme session in which I didn't connect with the submissive. This was a new experience for me. All submissive came to experience my expertise. All in all I loved my time on London, and special thanks to my friend Madame Caramel who looked after me, and to Miss Dometria who showed me her amazing dungeon, and enabled me to plan my next visit.


After London I visited Glasgow and stayed at Domina Scarlet's place. She has a great bondage/suspension room which I fell in love with! Sessions were truly amazing, as Scottish submissive were accommodating and respectful. And of course they loved the sessions!

London and Glasgow were superb! Thanks to everyone who helped make my stay so wonderful. I'm so looking forward to seeing you all again!

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Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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 Glasgow session @DominaScarlet Dungeon.

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London session @HoxtonDungeon.

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 London session @HoxtonDungeon.

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 London session @HoxtonDungeon.

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 London session @HoxtonDungeon.

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 London session @HoxtonDungeon.

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 London session @HoxtonDungeon.

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 London session @HoxtonDungeon.

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 London session @HoxtonDungeon.

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London session @HoxtonDungeon.

Immobilized

Queen Kali Rain is a Bondage Queen, without a doubt. I discovered this recently when she gave me a bondage session. She began by making me stand in front of a mirror while starting to tie ropes around my chest and arms. It took quite a while but when she showed me in the mirror what she’d done, I realized why. She had created a beautiful rope pattern on my back. It was wonderful to be used like this as an artist’s canvas! Beautiful, but also effective. My upper body was thoroughly immobilized. Then she put me face down on a bed and finished by binding my legs, then attaching my feet to my back in a kind of hogtie.


Her bonds are tight but not painful. Wound around and around my body, arms, legs and feet, the ropes felt heavy and so strong. I was helpless almost from when she started, but by the time she finished, some time later, I was totally unable to move. I mean, not even an inch.


Being tied up like this is beyond thrilling. Queen Kali Rain is very beautiful, very powerful. To feel her make me totally helpless is so exciting! And to see her artistry with her ropes is a beautiful thing. Soon I was feeling the euphoria that subs feel when being dealt with by a great Dominatrix.  I didn’t know when it would end and I didn’t care. I just surrendered to her process. It continued and continued and although I couldn’t move, and it felt like forever, I felt great. I forgot about release and in my deep sub space I just let go and put all my trust in her.


I don’t know how long it lasted but eventually she released me. In my mind and emotions, I was  somewhere close to heaven! After a while I came back to myself. I was deeply relaxed and happy, and  left with the greatest respect and admiration for this Queen and her skills. I hope I can have it again some time. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life. Absolutely precious!

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Gratitude

 

My Queen, I am profoundly grateful for the extraordinary changes you have wrought in me and my life over the past eighteen months.

 

I am grateful because you chose me to serve you as personal slave, to serve a gloriously beautiful powerful totally dominant Woman.

 

I am grateful for the wisdom and perceptiveness you showed in instantly recognizing my true nature when we first met.

 

I am grateful because you took full ownership of me, body, mind, emotions, soul, and told me that I had no choice, that it was my fate.

 

I am grateful because you have encouraged me to explore and express my kinky nature to the fullest extent.

 

I am grateful because you have authenticated me at the deepest level.

 

I am grateful that you have improved me with the power of your personality and your whip.

 

I am grateful for the consistency with which you have always treated me.

 

I am grateful because you don’t accept my failures and mistakes.

 

I am grateful that you have pushed me far beyond my assumed limits.

 

I am grateful because you allow me to contribute to your success as professional Dominatrix.

 

I am grateful because you subdue my stubborn nature.

 

I am grateful that you are in my life on a daily basis, no matter where you are or where I am.

 

I am grateful that you control this bodymind day and night and day again.

 

I am grateful for the love and care you have shown me, and for the gift of accepting my love and caring.

 

I am grateful that you have assured me that you will own me for the rest of my life.

 

 

For all of these things and others that are too deep for expression, I am profoundly grateful.

 

 

Your slave David

 

January 2018

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She's Breathtaking

After brunch she orders me to clean up then go to her play bed. As I clean, I wonder what is coming. I start to get a little nervous, which is usual. I have no idea what she has in mind, so I have no expectation. Her creativity seems to be endless.

 

I go to the bed, sit and wait. She soon comes in and tells me to lie down on my stomach. I obey. She ties my ankles with a scarf, and orders me to put my hands behind my back. They are quickly tied. Then my ankles and wrists are pulled together and I am held helplessly in a hog tie. Nothing happens for a minute then a big gag is stuffed in my mouth and tightly secured. Then she gets onto the bed and I feel her weight on me as she stands on my back. Her feet are soft but strong. She walks on me, then gets off. Then she laughs, and says “Stay like that. I will have my shower.” 

 

I lie there for quite a while. Then she comes in and releases me from the hog tie, and frees my hands. My ankles stay tied. She tells me to turn over. She is wearing a favourite outfit, black and simple. She is astonishingly beautiful and powerful.

 

Then she gets on to my chest and sits there while she pulls a scarf tight around my neck. And she closes my nose with her fingers. I am soon short of breath but nowhere near my limit. She releases me, and I breathe again. She repeats and repeats this. I repeat over and over again “Oh my Queen; oh my Queen.” She is excited, sighing and laughing. I am loving it. It is real, but not threatening.

 

She orders me to play with myself, and I begin. She wants to see me cum. I play with my cock, she plays with my breath. She changes position and captures my neck with her thighs. I am surprised. I have never experienced this before, though I have fantasized about it. She squeezes and I feel the power of her legs. What a feeling! My breath is slowed. I love what she is doing. She alternately squeezes and releases. She holds my eyes with hers, the whole time. We are connected.

 

Then I feel my eyes widen into a stare. I have no feeling or thought. I just know I am staring into her eyes. After a minute unwraps her legs and says “Stand. I’m going to whip you!”  I am shocked and surprised. Why does she want to whip me at this moment?  Ten or twelve quick heavy lashes fall on my back and shoulders. I gasp at the pain. It stops. She says “You are challenging me. Don’t do it. Don’t challenge my limitation. Lie down.”  I don’t understand. But I obey, and the play starts again.

 

She uses the scarf and her hands to slow my breath, while I keep playing. She changes position and sits on my face, facing forwards. My breath is mostly stopped. It is tremendously exciting. She lifts off and I breathe fully. She sits again. She lifts, and turns around to face my feet. I feel her weight on my face, my nose. I can breathe, but not fully. She lifts again. Repeats. Sitting on me she makes small alterations in her position. She knows how to let me breathe a little, and how to refuse me completely. Which she does, and it brings me near to orgasm. She lifts and I breathe in two deep breaths before she comes down again. Again she moves slightly till I can get no air at all. I cum, a big spurt over my belly. I am in total ecstasy, the orgasm seemingly lasting forever. When it’s finished she gets off me, tells me to clean myself. For a few minutes I rest, gathering the bits of my mind and emotions, and soon head for the shower.

 

Once dressed, she calls me to come; she wants to talk to me. I kneel on the floor in front of her. She talks about my stare. To her it was a red flag. She interpreted it as a challenge, egging her on to go further. For me, there was no challenge, no desire to let her go further. In that moment I had no thought or emotion. It meant nothing. But her understanding was different.

She reminds me that she has no limits, and nor do I. We are both extreme. She poses the question; what would happen if we both lost control, and lost all sense of limitation. Of course it could very likely end in total disaster. The end of my life and the end of all her hopes and dreams for the future. I tell her that I was nowhere near my limit in this session. She carries on, reminding me that I have to be just as responsible as she is. I must communicate. I have a safe word and I must use it. She is right; I have only ever used it once. And it is true that I can get lost in these extreme moments. So I promise her that in future I will communicate with her, not only in case of needing to use the safe word, but also telling her what’s happening with me minute to minute.

 

It is another lesson, an extremely important one. Wild as we both are, I need to keep myself safe, and she needs to know that I am safe.

 

Lesson learned.

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A Noble Profession

Many people are ignorant about the role of the Dominatrix. They don’t know what she does, and they are too lazy and narrow minded to do some research and learn the truth.

 

The Dominatrix is not a prostitute nor is she any kind of escort. She does not offer herself for sex. The true Dominatrix makes this very clear from the outset. Yet still many people ignore this reality.

 

The Dominatrix exists to serve the needs of submissive men, and sometimes women, who have a need to submit themselves to a strong, beautiful, intelligent, dominant woman. In their submission they may crave bondage, or various kinds of punishment. They not only want to submit to the Dominatrix, they want to please her by offering themselves to her for her own pleasure. The Dominatrix often, though not always, enjoys inflicting pain. This gives her pleasure. The submissive man or woman gains pleasure from the giving of themselves for the pleasure of the Dominatrix. They want and crave this.

 

In her ordinary day to day life the Dominatrix is no different to any other woman. She has her loves, her losses, her family, her joys, her challenges, her friends, her ordinary pleasures. She is a woman.

 

She is not a prostitute. The roles are totally different. As Dominatrix she doesn’t engage in sex with any client. Clients and Dominatrices have different purposes. They are there to satisfy their respective needs. The best Dominatrices help their clients to gain the deepest fulfillment. A prostitute cannot serve this purpose. Only a Dominatrix can fulfill the needs of those who want and need to submit. That is what she does, and it is all that she does.

Queen Kali Rain is a Dominatrix.   

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​Hard Bondage

 

This evening we go back to the dungeon. We sit with a drink while a group of subs and Dommes perform a little play for us. It is almost the same as the previous time. My Queen seems interested. I find it boring.

 

She had previously decided she wanted to tie me in a hard position; she had showed me a photo, and I had said that I might be able to do that. On the day of the dungeon visit, I practiced the position in our living room; it was definitely going to be hard. But I had no idea just how hard until I was actually tied and held in the position.

 

After our drink she asked another Domme to join us. We proceeded to the big cage room with the strong iron bars. I went through the usual procedure of being told to strip, then acknowledging the Domme, then my Queen, by kissing and licking their boots until they were satisfied. My Queen gave the other permission to punish me as much as she liked. The Domme stood in front of me, and gave me a safe word.

 

Then I was told to stand, and my Queen began her rope play, her very favourite among all her activities. First several coils of rope above my hips. While she worked, the Domme played with me, using a small cane, hot wax, and a flogger. It hurt, but her punishment was mild. My Queen applied more ropes at my upper thighs.  As she proceeded, one phrase played and played through my mind: “I’m a sacrifice.”  And I knew I had to give myself to this process without reservation. In any case, I had no choice. Ropes were tied around my neck. She spread my feet wide and tied my ankles, then my wrists behind me. She carried on with her ropes behind me, out of sight. Then she was ready.

 

“Bend over.”  I obeyed, bending as far as I could. “Go on, go right over.”  “Can I fall?”  “Yes!” In an act of total trust I let myself fall head first towards the stone floor; my fall was stopped a few inches short by the ropes attaching me to the bars. I immediately felt the strain on my legs, and my wrists tightly constricted by the ropes. Very soon my legs began to burn.

 

My Queen and the Domme were laughing, happy at the sight of my total helplessness. Soon after I watched from my upside down position as my Queen brought a silver plug and electrical wires and started to prepare my ass for penetration. Soon the plug was in, and began to vibrate inside me. It was pleasurable, but the strain on my legs and the blood congesting in my head drowned out the sense of pleasure. I was suffering, and that was that.

 

I heard her say “Twenty minutes like that.” I groan, inwardly or outwardly I don’t know. Twenty seconds would be too long. I don’t know how I will endure this, but I have no choice. I know I must.

 

The minutes go by. They are talking and laughing; they are happy to see my suffering. My Queen informs me of time passing. “Fifteen minutes.”  Later, “Ten minutes.” Sweat is rolling off me, and tears are falling. The pain is intense, centred in my legs. I am not counting, but wait for each count. “Five minutes.”  I am at the end of my endurance, but it is not time yet. My whole world is pain. I will endure it for my Queen. I won’t give up.

 

 

After the longest twenty minutes of my life, I hear her say “Ok.” She moves behind me, removes the plug, and begins untying me part by part. I cannot come up yet. My legs are in a furnace of pain. After several more minutes she tells me to stand up. I try to bring my legs together and fail. I keep trying, and movement comes back and I bring them together. “Come up!”  I try, and see blackness and stars. I am about to faint so I let my head fall down. She orders me to stand. I try again. Same effect. I gasp and pant with pain and faintness and confusion. I feel terrible. She slaps me, three times, and it helps to bring my mind back. “Do you want me to slap you with all my force?”  “No my Queen.”  I keep trying and soon I am able to stand straight. I feel exhausted but calm. My legs are not hurting now, nor my wrists. She tells me to relax for ten minutes, and to drink some beer. I am grateful. I am in the moment, deeply relieved to be free of the pain. I relax.

 

Ten minutes later she says “Now the next one.”  I hear the words and am surprised. She had given no indication of more bondage but this is what is coming. I am calm and accepting. I must bear whatever I must bear.

 

She stands and pushes me back against the bars. I am to stand erect, my body firm against the bars behind me. “Hold out your hands.”  I obey, and watch her wrap my wrists with white rope, coil after coil. I am curious, yet detached. I am not in my normal frame of mind. I am not high and happy. I am calm and still. Soon my wrists are heavily bound. They might as well be encased in concrete. She steps high and pulls my arms up and attaches them at the top of the cage. Straight away my triceps are held in a stretch, and start hurting. She steps down. The Domme hands her more rope.

 

My Queen starts encircling me, starting at my ankles. She quickly progresses up my body, pulling each loop tight and fastening me to points I cannot see. She reaches my waist, then my chest. She comes very close to me as she moves higher. I feel her body heat. My arms hurt more and more. My lower body is rigid, held tight by her ropes. She moves higher. Soon a rope is passed in front of my face. As she pulls it tight I open my mouth and receive it like a gag. She laughs. “That’s right.”  The Domme is laughing and exclaiming over my Queen’s expertise.

 

She continues up my arms, then is finished. Fire is consuming my upper arms, my wrists are so constricted I cannot feel them, and I am completely still, mind and body, unable to move at all. The pain intensifies. I start to feel desperate. She announces “Ten minutes.”  The Domme laughs. My Queen is radiant with a broad happy smile. She and the Domme chat, laugh, make fun of my predicament. I feel the sour taste of humiliation in my mouth, but the pain and desperation far outweigh it. I am covered in sweat from head to feet. I try to move a little to relieve the pressure on my arms, but cannot, not at all. Her bonds force me to stand still and erect, and I must experience the totality of my pain.

 

Minutes go by. She says “Five minutes.”  Tears mingle with the sweat on my face. My Queen poses with her bound and suffering slave while the Domme takes photos. My Queen is beside herself with happiness. She sits again, and they happily chat and laugh and make fun of me. I am in such pain that the memory of my safe word comes. I wonder for a second if I should use it, and decide I won’t. I must and can bear this, for the sake of my Queen.

 

It continues and I am far past the limits of my endurance. But soon it is over. The Domme and my Queen start to release me. My arms are still high, still in the white heat of pain. But soon they are released, and my tied hands fall down. My Queen releases my wrists. I try to move my hands and cannot. They feel like blocks of frozen beef. My body is stiff as a board. She tells me to go and sit and relax. I move very slowly and sit.

 

As I relax and finish the last of my beer my hands come back to life with sharp tingles and the pain in my arms recedes. They feel weak, as if I have just been in an intensive gym session. After a few minutes my Queen orders me to get ready to leave. I stand and dress and pack the few ropes we brought with us. As I do so, I marvel at the way my Queen can tie me and cause such pain, yet cause no injury at all. In fact, as we leave, the pain has left my body. I only feel a little weak. I am not high, but I’m not in my normal mind either. If anything, I am in a state of awe, and I wonder at the fate that brought me to this great Dominatrix. I also wonder about the future, because I know with certainty that she can bring much more pain to my body than on this night. I wonder if I can ever bear more. But this is not up to me; she will decide what she does with my body, even my mind and emotions. This is what it is to be a slave. Service, obedience, acceptance, of all that she requires. There is no more.

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Comfortable on my cushion

I want to get more comfortable about being uncomfortable. I want to be more confident about being uncertain. I don't want to shrink back just because something isn't easy. I want to push back and make more space in the gap between I can't and I can.

 

But I am very comfortable sitting on my favorite human cushion.

 

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What is a Dominatrix?

She is in many ways the same as any other woman. She loves, laughs, grieves, wonders, thinks and plays like any other woman. But her mind is different. The Dominatrix is richly creative. She is artistic and intelligent. All of her actions emanate from her deep interior. She can and does become the commanding presence that some men, in the secrecy of their minds, are afraid of, and that other men are attracted to. The Domme revels in this power. She can easily command them to obey her. It is her natural ability as dominant woman. But the true Domme does not misuse her power. She is in control of herself as well as the men at her feet.

 

The Domme is a psychologist. She studies the mind and emotions of her submissive or slave before she physically interacts with them. She seeks to understand the deep, often hidden fantasies and fetishes of the submissive, then create scenarios which fulfill their deepest desires. Thus she satisfies not only the submissive, but attains deep satisfaction and fulfillment herself.

 

She is also compassionate. The men who come to her may feel shame or guilt about their secret desires. Few people can understand the motivations of such men. If the submissive man were to disclose his secrets he would be roundly judged, perhaps labeled “crazy”. But the Domme does not judge. On the contrary, she accepts and approves and encourages the sub to explore themselves with her, to go deeper, and to finally accept who they are.  They may discover more about themselves than they ever dreamed possible. In this way she helps the submissive to mend the split inside themselves, to become whole. The Domme is healer.

 

The professional Dominatrix earns money, but money is the least of her motivations. Much more important is how well she studies and understands the submissive, and how satisfying and fulfilling the session is for the submissive and herself.  The money she earns is a byproduct of what she most deeply enjoys, what she is born to do. It is not unusual for a happy and fulfilled submissive to offer more money than she requests, but she has the ethics of a true professional. She may accept a small gift, but she won’t accept more than the previously agreed fee. Her professionalism is paramount.

 

Psychologist, artist, professional, wise woman, healer; she is all of these as well as an ordinary person. This is the true Dominatrix.

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Play and Punish

 

It was Friday afternoon. My Queen had had a session earlier in the afternoon, and still wore her outfit, a simple black body suit and tall slim black boots. I wore my secretary outfit. My small collar was still locked on; the blouse ties covered it. I came into the living room, my Queen nodded approval, and I started preparing for dinner. I had soon cooked an excellent spaghetti bolognese and we enjoyed it with a little wine. On finishing I cleaned up, washed and dried the dishes and started to relax, I assumed for the rest of the evening, but I was wrong.

 

“Where are your scarves?”  I was surprised, but quietly pointed out the bag: “Over there my Queen.”  She then pointed to a spot on the floor, and said “Lie, face down.”  I obeyed. In a second she was beside me, though I couldn’t see her. “Hands behind.”  My wrists were quickly bound, then she repeated the process with my ankles. Then I felt her tying something else, and suddenly my wrists were firmly pulled back to my ankles and in a second I was hog-tied. I felt he strain on the front of my thighs and I couldn’t move; I didn’t even dare try, as she busied herself. Next something was passed over my eyes:  “Open your mouth.”  I obeyed. In a second it was stuffed full and she was tying the scarf tight at the back of my head. She sighed and laughed a little. She wasn’t finished. She was still preparing. In a minute something else was passed over my head. I felt it encircle my neck and pulled tight, but not tight enough to hurt. She continued, and next moment my breath was suddenly restricted to the point where I was struggling to breathe. She laughed and sighed, and released. Then she repeated, several times. Each time she pulled on the rope, I felt my face go red, and I could hardly breathed at all, as I gasped into my gag. After she had had her fun, she released the rope, untied the gag, and freed my wrists and ankles.

 

She sat on the sofa, booted legs crossed, ordered me to come to her, and to start licking. I obeyed, up and down the legs and on the soles as she indicated. After a minute she said “Stand up. Stand there.” She had ordered me to a position a metre and a half from her. “Turn around.”  “Yes my Queen.”  “Now you will be punished. Do you know why?”   My mind was blank, totally vacant after the hog-tie, gag and strangling, brief though it was. “No my Queen, I don’t know why.”  “You don’t know?”   “No I don’t know at all.”  “You let your cock cage fall off. I told you that that would be disrespectful. Yet you let it happen. Ten lashes for that.”   “Yes my Queen.”   Next, you have failed to give me the budget and all the money that I told you to give me, many days ago.”   I thought for a moment. She’s right. How could I have not done that?  I cursed myself, and said “Yes my Queen.”  “Ten for that.”  “Ok my Queen.”

 

She began. The first ten lashes were heavy, striking me high on the back and shoulders. It was very painful, as usual.  After ten she stopped. “Turn around.”  I turned to face her.  “Turn.” I turned a little to my right. “More.”  I obeyed.  “More.”  Ok.  “Stop.”  Now it seemed that I was in the perfect position. She started again, and it hurt even more. Moans and gasps escaped me, and tears rose in my eyes. After ten she stopped.

 

For the next fifteen minutes she questioned me about why I hadfailed to deliver the budget and money, and I did my best to answer. But I had no real explanation. I was in a sorry state, my mouth full of the sour taste of failure.  I hate being whipped, but more than that I hate failing and disappointing my Queen.

 

Later though as I thought about it, I wondered if I had been unconsciously trying to sabotage my Queen’s effort to make me dependent on her, and in fact my own desire for that. Loss of freedom is easy to think about, much less easy to give oneself up to. Perhaps this was the root cause of my failure. Whatever the reason, I will continue doing my best to keep listening, remembering and acting on her orders.

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A punishment

Second Training: The Dungeon. July 2017.


I have been slightly unwell. I ask my Queen if I can rest; she agrees. I don my sleeping dress, and doze. After an hour or so she comes into the room. I turn in the bed and see her before she speaks. She wears shiny skin tight pants, tight high heeled boots and a purple singlet. The expression on her face is formidable. She is the most intense I have ever seen her. She carries her black whip. “Get up” comes the command. I obey. “Turn around.”  “Yes my Queen.”  Then her whip fall on my back, the first time in many months, and the weight and sting of the lashes penetrate my dress as if it isn’t there. I gasp with each stroke. After eight she finishes. “Get dressed. We are going to the dungeon now.” She had told me of this earlier, as I had disclosed several transgressions over the months, and she had made promises of punishment. 


We take a taxi to the dungeon. As usual I feel out of place and apprehensive. I know I am going to receive a whipping, a substantial one. We greet a Domme whom we know from previous visits. I know what is expected of me and drop to my knees and kiss her boots. We carry on and sit down, and order drinks. It is quite busy. Three men sit at the bar talking loudly in a different language. A woman is tied with her back to me; she is being paddled by another Domme. I sip my drink and we chat. I am on edge.


After a while my Queen stands and tells me to get naked. In a second it is done. She attaches my leash to my collar, orders me to my knees, and demands that I kiss her boots, using my tongue. I obey. After a while she asks our Domme friend to lead me around the dungeon. We set off, and parade until we stop at a group of Dommes sitting at the bar having a drink. I am ordered to kiss their shoes and boots, one by one. I obey. The Domme then leads me back to where my Queen waits. She takes off the leash and orders me to the diagonal cross. She and the Domme attach me, hands and feet spread wide. My Queen comes before me.  “How many lashes do you owe me?”  “Eighty, my Queen.”  “Tell me why.”  I recite the several occasions where I have displeased her, as she listens and nods.  Then, “You will receive one hundred.”  She describes a recent failure to put her first in everything. I acknowledge my mistake. She moves behind me, and I hear her tell the Domme to video the whipping. The first lash falls. It is painful as always. Then she says “Count. If you make a mistake it will start over again.”  “Yes my Queen.”  I gasp as the second lash falls and I start the count. Several strokes fall across my back and shoulders, then she directs the whip to my sides. I groan and writhe in a futile attempt to ease the pain of the lashes. It is extreme. I keep counting. We get to fifty and my back and sides are on fire. At eighty she stops and speaks with the Domme. I am in a world of pain and I don’t hear what they are saying. After a short minute the lashes and counting continue, and I know that it is near the end. It is overwhelming. But it finishes. Presently I am released from the cross, and I am told to get dressed. My Queen pays the bill, and we leave. A taxi quickly takes us to our hotel. Soon she is talking to me about my failure to serve her at this early point of my second training. It is true. I am relating to her more as a friend than my Mistress. I have forgotten to offer her coffee in the morning, and ask if she wants breakfast. I have failed to put her first. I feel sad and diminished. I vow to myself that I will do better from now on.

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Copyright QueenKaliRain.com 2016