I found Ms. Justine while searching for a dominatrix in the Los Angeles area. I was vacationing in early November and I wanted to try a new experience. I sent her an email and she responded. Her response was bright, cheery and encouraging. She explained how to set up an appointment when I arrived and asked for more detail about what I wanted to do. I made the appointment and called her two hours before to confirm as she asked. She gave me the address at that time.
She is tall and slender just like the pictures on her website. She is very attractive. She tried to get me to describe what I wanted to do and I could not. She said that was ok since I was a beginner and left the room to get some things she uses to hit people.
My first session with Ms. Justine was very tame. She talked with me for a little while and then started with what I thought were some standard routine things. She pulled me off the chair by my hair and pushed me onto the floor. She cuffed my hands behind my back and pinched my nipples. She hit my butt with a paddle. The paddle hurt and she said that she was barely touching me. I wondered what she did to other guys if that was barely touching. She talked about the fetish life at the end and recommended some reading material and websites.
Justine is a very nice girl. I can tell that she was nurtured in her childhood. She acts and speaks like someone who was studious in high school and college. She is cultured and can speak with people she has just met easily. I could picture her as a lawyer in a law office, if she wore different clothes.
I thought that she was holding herself back a lot. She talked about being a dominatrix as a full time lifestyle not just a job. She said that she did a lot of very mean things to guys. But none of this seemed to be what she and I did together. I told her that I was from Kansas and she thought that explained a lot about me. Her comment about where I lived made me wonder a few days later. Why would where I lived make such a difference to her? What would need to be explained about me? I wondered if she withheld her talents from me because there is a myth about Midwestern people being very conservative. She seemed to be challenging me to find a way to unlock her. So I tried a couple of things.
My first try was to send her an email thanking her for the nice visit and suggesting we get together again. A couple of stupid jokes were included in the email. I hoped to provoke her with them. But she replied without even mentioning the jokes. I really thought these jokes would make her mad and make her reply with some kind of angry attack on me. I decided to write an angry attack email on her behalf. I sent it to her and asked her if she could have written it herself. She just replied confirming the appointment time.
I was a little nervous about this second appointment. The email I ghost wrote for Ms. Justine was mean. It warned me that things would be very different the next time. I wondered if I had created a monster when I waked in the door. I think I did create a monster.
She dragged me by the collar through the hallway to the back of the building right away. She had me spend an agonizing amount of time folding my clothes neatly on a chair and then kicked the chair over and had me do it again because it was not good enough the first time. Then, after she was tired of me folding and refolding my clothes wrong, she decided to move on to punishing me for calling to confirm my appointment nine minutes late.
Punishing a grown man is way beyond any standards of propriety on the face of it. Then to consider nine minutes after six PM to be enough to qualify as lateness is wholly unreasonable. Also, I actually called her at eight minutes after six, not nine. She was making up the nine minutes part. She had me bend over a saw horse kind of thing so my ass was right in front of her. I didn't want to do this. But I was there for a dominatrix session so I needed to go with the flow in order to participate. I did this and she explained what she wanted me to do. I had to count each hit and say "Thank you Mistress Justine."
She hit me so hard with her paddle the first time that I could not speak "Mistress Justine" correctly. She said that I fucked up and that didn't count as part of my 9 hits, one for each minute of lateness. She kept giving me orders to put my ass back up where she could hit it easier. Toward the end, she was hitting me on the same areas bruised by previous hits. So it hurt more than in the beginning. She is stronger than she looks. I thought I was done after the nine. But she said I called at the front gate two minutes after eight PM instead of eight. She wanted to hit me two more times. She made this up because I called right at 8. But she insisted on two more hits to "settle accounts." So I took them just to make her satisfied. I checked my cell phone records later that night. I called exactly at 8 PM. She was wrong, not me.
Mistress Justine was surprisingly calm and cool throughout this punishment process. Every time I drew away from the thing I bent over, she carefully told me to get back on it so she could hit me again. She seemed completely at ease with herself while I was sweating and groaning. I got the idea that she was happy or proud of herself. She liked to hear my groans, liked to see me wither away from the sawhorse in pain. But it is hard to tell for sure because I was in pain the whole time. She was hitting so hard. I wonder if she was using a two hand grip. She didn't have any sympathy either. During the first visit a few days before she said, "aw is he scared" like she was talking to a puppy. She didn't say anything like that this time.
She would talk about how men are inferior to women throughout the whole hour. I don't know if she really believed this stuff. But she said a lot of it. The first draft of the email I ghost wrote for her had a lot of female supremacist bullshit in it. I let it ramble on until it imploded on its own stupidity. I deleted most of it from the final draft because it sounded so silly. I am glad I did because rattling her cage any more could have been dangerous. As it was, the bruises on my ass took two days to disappear. Who knows what would have happened if I had encouraged her any more.
Next she cuffed my hands to this wooden rack. So I was standing up on my feet with my hands held above my head. She did some pinching and then she told me to do something that is hard for me to write down. It was very humiliating. I told her I did not want to do it. But she said the consequences for not doing it would be much worse. She just finished hitting me very hard with her paddle and I didn't want any more of that. So I did it. It was very mean for her to make me do this. It was not necessary. She just wanted to prove that she could make me do anything she wanted.
After this, she walks over to her purse and comes back with a new toy she just acquired. It was a knife with a double edge, razor sharp. She came very close to me so I could not use my legs to kick her away. She grabbed my right thigh between her thighs and held it still. It looked like razor sharp stainless steel. She held the point to my neck right under my Adam's apple and looked at me. I asked her what she thought she was doing and she kept looking at me. Then she started to pull strands of my body hair tight and use the knife to cut it. She cut hair from several places including my pubic area. She said she was demonstrating how sharp the knife was. I wanted to take the knife away from her and give her a spanking. But she had my hands tied and she had already held the knife very close to my neck once. I didn't want to make her mad.
Mistress Justine told me that no one would know if she killed me that night. Police could trace cell phone records. But she would say I was a no-show. She said that for all I know, we were completely alone and there would be no witnesses if she murdered me. It was by her good graces that she let me live. Mistress Justine asked me what I learned before unchaining me. I had to think for a minute and said, "call on time and you are smarter than me." She said that I also learned that she is in charge not me. I also learned that Mistress Justine is a little twisted. But I didn't tell her that since she had the razor sharp knife and my hands were tied above my head.
I can't blame her for making assumptions about me living in Kansas. I made assumptions about her based on where she lived. I thought any dominatrix living in Los Angeles must be the best in the business. She really gives an exciting experience. I told her the paddle really hurt. She said it was supposed to hurt. She hit me very hard and she was not going to apologize for it. But a few were a little less hard than some of the others. I guess that is her distorted way of showing kindness. I now know what to expect from her and it will be difficult to see her again. I know I will be much more nervous walking up to her door next time because she might hit me like that again. I wish I could find some one like her in Kansas.
She did compliment me on the email I wrote pretending to be her. It was not much of a compliment. She did not tell me that I described her thoughts perfectly. She did not say that I had an extraordinary ability to see things from a dominatrix point of view. But she did say that she would refer to it in the future. At least she thought it had some value to her. I should be happy with that. Compliments from Ms. Justine must be very rare. I have a feeling that she doesn't like to compliment men just as a general principle. It is contrary to her view of the universe.
I left wondering how my ghost email affected Justine's approach to our second visit. Did it give her a blueprint for what I wanted her to do when we were together? Did it just give her permission to be herself and do what she wanted without trying to predict if it was something I would like? I prefer to think that she was just doing what she wanted during the second visit. I feel that her entertainment is more important than mine.
It is hard to imagine other guys liking this like I did. It was exciting when she was completely in charge of everything I did. Putting a knife to my throat really added to the excitement because she was showing me she had the power of life and death over me. It does not bother her to hurt people. In fact she likes to hurt them. Their hurting gives her pleasure.
It is fun to imagine living under her rules where there is no way to escape and no safe words. Living in a situation where her authority cannot be questioned sounds very exciting because it would be impossible to stop things when the pain got unbearable. This would be a type of total surrender that is probably not possible in the modern world. This kind of environment did exist when the statues like those at the Getty Villa were carved in ancient Rome.
Men are usually thought of as rulers back then. But maybe there were a few Mistress Justines too. They may have been making their servants fold their clothes in some detailed way, beat them for unfair reasons and threatened their lives for the fun of it. Maybe these guys were the ones who walked up to big blocks of stone and started chiseling beautiful statues.
On the first day of Christmas, my collared sub gave to me . . .
Spent the day with close friends eating exquisitely lovely things like caviar and Oysters Rockefeller.
Halloween was particularly amazing this year. My supersexyshiny friends and I threw a party, a force to be reckoned with! There were strippers, space brew, and of course the latex Unicorn!
Happy Rocktober! Home to Halloween and Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Need a weekend in the desert, so I will be going out to Palm Springs 10/14-10/17.
I only caught part of this episode of Bored to Death, because, ironically I had to escape TO the dungeon.
Perhaps you've been wanting something personal from the Mistress? I have created an 
Read the complete text here. 
I met up with my good friend D. for some wine and food at a happy hour. Just a casual seaside bar, nothing special. We were being our jolly cackling selves, oblivious to anything other than each other's fine lady company. A man comes up to us and says, "I just had to come up and say hello to you ladies. You're drinking wine in a bar in the middle of the afternoon. You really know what you want." It's true, we do, we do know what you want.
I showed up at LAX wearing my tall black leather boots as requested by a client--to make sure my feet get all leathery and sweaty. I decided it would be a good idea to get them shined and low and behold there was a station right by my gate! I step up to get those beauties properly shined. This guy was a shoe shiner/fortune teller. He took one look at me and said, "You are very well-read, aren't you?" Why yes, I am. A few minutes later, he said, "You do something very interesting for a living don't you?" He had me pegged and did an excellent job, I tend to overtip.
I was always impressed with $pread magazine, not only for what it sought to do by sharing information about sex workers to other sex workers, but also that it was a volunteer run non-profit. I even got a feature in it, as photographed by Jenny Demilo of Dulce de Ojo.
