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

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.


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.


My Whip

My whip has a dual nature.

One: it is a potent symbol of my authority and status. I am Queen of my Realm. I choose not to have a traditional sceptre, like historical queens. No; my Whip is my sceptre.

Two: my whip is the tool with which I discipline my subs, and my slave, when they need it.

Some of you are afraid of my whip. You should be. It is my favourite instrument of punishment and discipline. My subs and slave tell me that it hurts. A lot. This pleases me. It should hurt a lot. I have a purpose when I whip these ones. I whip them because they need it. Sometimes they have disobeyed me.   I whip them so they will change their ways, so they will improve. I will whip my slave until he reaches perfection. He will soon receive a severe whipping because not only is he far from perfection, he has disobeyed me in many ways. My whip will cure him of his disobedient ways.

As a symbol of my power and authority, my Whip is unparalleled.  You know that I can subdue you with my whip. I can bring you to tears and submission. I can break you with my whip. But this is not for everyone. Each of you has his own limits, his own fantasies. Whipping is not for everyone. So if you are one of these, don’t be afraid. You will not feel my whip on your back. But when you see my whip you will know its potential, and you will respect me as your Queen.


Take a break from reality

Sometimes you just like to take a break from reality and go to my own little place. Here we can imagine everything we want.  Escape from everyone you know including everything and just let go... Welcome to your new world.

Copyright QueenKaliRain.com 2016