"The art of life lies in taking pleasures as they pass,
and the keenest pleasures are not intellectual, nor are they always moral."

~ Aristippus  (c. 435-356 BC)

Mind Caviar, Vol. 3 Spring Issue, 2002

Dear Diary
March 29, 2002

Oh My God! Last night's Ground Zero Rubber Ball was so incredible. This year’s annual Rubber Ball was a tribute to Mistress Jean, the Queen of Pain. She looked beautiful, powerful, and radiant for the occasion with her slave boy in tow. 

I'm still extremely high from the excitement and energy from the large crowd. I had an amazing time. I didn't think that I'd even make it to Ground Zero due to having pneumonia. My energy was so low before I left my home that I felt like a worn-out rag doll, barely able to maintain my balance on my weak, wobbly legs.

Last night I was dressed in a very cute, tiny red and black rubber outfit, and tall black boots. I didn't have any silicone spray so my outfit wasn't as shiny as I would've preferred.

Lovely Lady Mia and Mistress Jean
I arrived a little after nine. There was already a line of people, dressed in sexy fetish wear, which was such a surprise because normally the club doesn't fill up until after eleven. Immediately I was distracted by the boutique full of fetish clothing near the front entrance. This was the first time Ground Zero featured such vendors. Oh, how I wanted to ogle the sexy outfits, but knew I didn't have time, so I steered myself toward the dressing room instead.

Masses of people were already gathered by the bar, pool tables, and dance floor, drinking, chatting, and smoking cigarettes, when I ascended the cat walk steps. Last night I was dressed in a very cute, tiny red and black rubber outfit, and tall black boots. I didn't have any silicone spray so my outfit wasn't as shiny as I would've preferred. At first my body felt so weak dancing that I felt out of synch with the music and wasn't sure that I'd make it until three a.m. 

"Just breathe," I chanted a quiet mantra in my head, attempting to forget all about how awful I felt. Eventually I slipped away into sub-space, moving hypnotically with the music. The cat walk has been my savior for the past two years. It's where I've escaped from stress, worry, anger, pain, and illness on so many nights. It even has my blood, sweat, and tears stained into the smooth, worn down, concrete floor. 

It was near midnight when I took a short break. When I returned, the crowd was huddled around the stage, which as decorated with a silvery high-tech appearance. Mistress Jean had already begun her performance with her slave boy and a cute Asian female submissive, whose arms were restrained high above her to a trapeze bar. I watched from a distance, over by the dancing platform with the long silver pole, which puffs exotic smoke, by the main bar. 

Unexpectedly, Mark (known by his scene name as "Daddy"), the owner of the club, who was dressed outrageously approached me, holding out his hand.  He was wearing a tall, black top hat, a sparkly, black outfit, extremely large, rubber nose, and really ugly looking teeth, With complete surprise I placed my hand in his and was escorted to the stage. Up until then, I had no idea I was even a part of the show. No one had said anything to me. I was completely naïve to what was forthcoming. 

After I was on stage, I was placed in the old dentist chair, the one in which I used to perform when I first began at Ground Zero. It was sheathed with a silver, plastic cover. Mistress Jean gently removed my tiny, red, bikini top, exposing my breasts to the crowd. My nipples were covered with Band-Aids®, of course. Next, my arms were placed in Mistress Jean's leather mitts, and then restrained above me. Thereafter, my eyes were blindfolded. 

Tonight it felt as if magic was in the air. I found myself easily slipping away, surrendering my will, and accepting whatever was to come. I slipped deeper into a relaxing realm when I felt Mistress Jean's hands softly caress the skin on my chest and my arms. Softly I sighed. It felt so good to be sitting down, relaxing, and falling under someone else's care and control. 

I immediately wrinkled up my nose when I smelled the strong odor of ammonia waft beneath it. I shivered when I felt a cold liquid on my skin and a paint brush sensuously sweep over it as if I were a piece of canvas. My smile was so large, completely thrilled, and amused, when I realized that my body was being transformed into art with a latex paint. As the paint brush continued to sweep over the skin on my chest, my body writhed in pleasure. I purred with gratification and moaned softly from the eroticism of this scene. The softness felt so comforting, as if a warm, thick quilt was wrapped tightly around me, causing me to slip even further into a world which rests between the dark and the light. The audience no longer existed in my mind as I permitted a tranquil and sublime sensation to wash over me. 

When my torso was completely covered in latex paint, the chair was turned around while the paint dried, giving Mistress Jean time to check on the other submissive,  who was still restrained-- I believe to the trapeze bar. This would apparently give her slave boy time to rest. I just rested, hands still restrained above my head, attempting to capture these moments forever, hoping that time would stand still, at least for me. Every once in a while I'd feel Mistress Jean's soft hands touch my skin or the paint, checking to see if I was okay, or if the paint was dry. 

While I waited I concentrated on my breathing pattern. Soon everything felt surreal. I felt like an observer to this scene, watching from afar as if a spirit removed from its body. It seemed like forever before I felt the chair turn again toward the crowd. I heard Mistress Jean ask her slave boy for something, then felt a cold mist of what I knew to be silicone spray being applied, shining up the latex paint. I didn't know it at the time, but Mistress Jean even shined my rubber outfit for me, as well. 

Mistress Jean hastily ripped the latex paint off with her long, slender hands, causing me to wince a bit from the startling sensation. Thereafter, my hands were released, my top was placed back on, and my blindfold was removed. I gasped with surprise when I saw how hundreds of people had been watching with awe as Mistress Jean carefully helped me from the chair. Next, I kissed her hand with gratitude and said, "Thank you!" with big, wide eyes. 

Mark led me back down the stage steps. The show onstage continued on with other wonderful, sexy, performance submissives. Soon after, I was dancing on the cat walk again, euphoric and full of energy, doing all I could to maintain that sublime feeling I'd just felt on stage -- which wasn't that difficult. It felt very natural to maintain that beautiful, tranquil feeling last night. My body moved to the music like water flows downhill. 

I can hardly believe that I danced until 3 a.m. My feet hurt so badly by the end of the night. I thought I'd be hospitalized by today, but I actually feel a bit better. The exercise from dancing seemed to help my lungs immensely. I'm sure I'll be feeling the exhaustion tomorrow. I'm still very high from the scintillating scene last night, as well as still feeling the rush of energy due to the extremely large crowd. 

I've been dancing/performing at Ground Zero for almost two years now. I've grown so much as a person. My mind has opened so much wider. My self-confidence has increased and my friendships with others have grown. I cannot tell you how much this club has done for me. When I first began there, I couldn't even last an entire evening due to feeling fatigue from my kidney disease and rheumatoid arthritis. I used to leave for home at about midnight and I'd be in bed for two days, resting. Now I find myself dancing almost six hours, with few breaks, even with my ongoing health issues and pneumonia. 

It's been an extremely difficult winter for me. I've had many obstacles to overcome. If it wasn't for the staff and customers at Ground Zero, who I consider family, I don't think I would've made it through my hardships. The music, the dancing, the scenes, the skits, and the people have been a light within my darkness. 

I want to thank you all so much for making me a part of everything! 

Submissively Yours,

Lady M

Copyright © 2002 Lady M. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post in whole or in part. 
"Collective Soul" Graphic Illustration Copyright © 2001-2002 Lady M. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or post in whole or in part.

Lady M. is Mind Caviar's exclusive real-life sexual submissive, performer, columnist and pin-up. The chronicles of her sexual adventures, as well as her performances at Ground Zero, a fetish club in Minnesota, will be posted here for your titillation and voyeuristic amusement on a quarterly basis. Lady M. continues her amazing tell-all diaries which transport us to her world as a sexual submissive and performance artist for Mistress Jean and as a loving slave to her lifemate and husband, Sir Charles.

If you'd like to read more adventures and diary entries, visit Lady M's Web site at LadyMErotica.com. While you are there visit Lady M's portfolio on-line for photos modeled by Mia Jennings, our delicious Lady M, and taken by Charles Jennings.

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