 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. She continues her amazing tell-all diaries which transport us to her world as a sexual submissive and performance artist.
Visit
Lady
M's portfolio on-line. All Photos by Charles Jennings. Artwork above
by Mia Jennings.
I've just completed my twenty-eighth week at Ground Zero, working as an erotic dancer and separately as a performance Submissive. I'm perpetually wet thinking about the many wild, kinky experiences I've encountered these past few months, and when I cum the intensities are nearly impossible to convey through writing. Nonetheless, I'll try; and here are a few highlights from the past three electric months. On January 25, 2001, two days before my thirty-third birthday, I hit sub-space for the first time at Ground Zero. I dressed innocently, wearing a simple short flannel school girl's skirt, a gleaming white sweater, and matching white thigh-highs with satin bows at the cuffs. I was feeling like such a naughty girl, and I craved a spanking as well as to have the curves of my ass heated by the energies of a hand, firm paddle, or even from the sting of a taught whip. My body trembled with arousal and anticipation when I sat in the dentist chair and waited patiently as Daddy (the nightclub's resident Dom) methodically tied me in. On this night Daddy teased me with his routine procedure of ice, whips, nipple clamps, and his other various kinky devices. From the onset, I sensed his application was more intense than usual, and as my body tightened, I knew I'd secretly wished for his new assertiveness for a long time now. It was in the middle of our session when I felt Daddy apply a different set of clamps upon my straining nipples, ones I had never felt before. The pain caused my eyes to flicker and roll towards the back of my head; my mouth to open and expel loud uncontrolled gasps, moans, and screams; my back to arch high in the chair; and my limbs to shake with the electrifying bliss of a quickened rhythm. At the time my nipples were feeling the rush of the pain and pleasure (I often cum from having my nipples played with); Daddy whipped the tender insides of my upper thighs with his cat o' nine tails. The stinging pain caused my hips and ass to raise high out of the dentist chair, pushing upwards with each swat. As our session progressed, I also felt the unmistakable intense cascade of hot candle wax dripping onto my naked arms, chest, stomach, and inner thighs. My legs and upper body diabolically twitched when I felt the heat penetrate my bare skin. For the first time on stage I needed to find a space that involved neither pain nor pleasure; the sensations were driving me towards the limits of my sanity. I attempted to drift into another world, one less chaotic where my mind could separate the powers of the combined sensations. I was in a dimension where the polarities of pain and pleasure intertwined, but I could no longer differentiate their forces. It felt extreme, yet unexplainably tranquil, to exist in such a surrealistic realm; and I almost didn't want to drift back into reality. Absurdly, for a moment I thought I might not even be able to. When the painful clamps were finally released, the blood rushed back into the tips of my stressed nipples again, and my screams became so loud that the audience below could hear my voice above the blare of music. It was merely instinct on my part. I had little control, if any, and my mind raced to inventory the state of my body. Daddy next released my limbs and instructed me to position myself on my knees. Naturally, I did as I was told, and grasping the restraint bar before me tightly, I arched my quivering ass out as far as I could. The anticipation put a shaky smile on my face, for I knew I'd soon be feeling the sting from my birthday spankings. Thirty-four spankings later (yes, Daddy gave me one extra), I was rubbing the penetrating heat on my cheeks as the crowd cheered, and I smiled like a Cheshire cat from my satisfaction. It was a magnificent night, and a wonderful birthday celebration!
Dear Diary, I had secretly wished for a spanking from Santa Claus before leaving for Ground Zero and hoped Daddy could accommodate my fantasy. On this night I craved to be bent over Santa's knee and feel his wrath for being naughty, so I dressed in a red and black plaid school girl's outfit just in case. Approximately ninety minutes after arriving at the club I finally saw Daddy, but I almost didn't recognize him. He was dressed as Santa, but instead of the traditional red he wore only a black leather outfit trimmed with white fuzz. When I strolled past him on the way to the restroom I couldn't resist saying, "Hey Santa, I've been sooooo bad." I tried my best to focus on his reply, but I couldn't hear him over the loud music. I did, though, see his upturned smile. When I exited the restroom and returned to my table, I witnessed Daddy inside the cage near the steps. He sat in a black leather, high-back office chair, and he resembled a Mall Santa patiently waiting to take pictures with the excited masses in queue. I did my best to contain my exhilaration and the incessant urges to dash to the cage, and instead, I remained near the stage, dancing as my eyes stayed fixed on Santa. Rachel was the first to visit Santa in the cage, and as I gazed at them, a broad smile crept over my face, lingering with the anticipation of a voyeur. I could almost feel the heat baking my own ass as I saw Santa spank Rachel, her beautiful body bent over his sturdy knees. Finally, Rachel gingerly exited the cage, and knowing this was my chance, I anxiously departed the dance platform and fled towards Santa's lap. That's when he told me: he was Anti-Claus NOT Santa Claus. Making sense of the possible extremes of his meaning, the thought of an Anti-Claus made me wet with need, because I really hate Christmas. We talked for awhile before I told him I'd been wanting a spanking from Santa Claus, and trying my best to hide the eagerness that I surely showed, I said I would settle for one from Anti-Claus instead. He gladly accommodated and, motioning downwards told me to bend over his knees. The charged heat from his black leather paddle felt so good. I quivered with repeated tight orgasms that were seemingly timed to the peaks of the burning pleasure. As he continued slapping the paddle against my throbbing ass, Anti-Claus told me that he should've had a candy cane for me to suck on while being punished. Mmmmm - he's so kinky! A little while later I saw Rachel at the bar, and she told me that she was going to be a "Who Girl" in Ground Zero's annual Grinch Christmas show. Grinning, we looked over to see the Anti-Claus roaming the club with a bottle of whisky in his hands, still portraying his part as a dark, pathetic Santa. It was after eleven o' clock when the old movie screen finally scrolled towards the ceiling, revealing a Christmas scene to the audience. Towards the right of the stage was a sign that read, "Cindy Lou Who's Whorehouse." The skit had no words. Instead, the story line and emotions were choreographed to the music, and it began with Daddy coming down the chimney, wearing a mask that looked identical to the villainous Dr. Seuss character, The Grinch. When he entered the house (actually the stage), Grinch started to steal the presents under the tree and rummaged through the Christmas stockings. In the stockings he discovered sexual toys such as handcuffs and whips. Eventually the scenes from the skit culminated when Cindy Lou Who (also known as Jean, the resident Dominatrix) heard Grinch and entered the stage wearing a wonderfully sexy, lavender teddy. Her hands were placed sternly on her hips, and she didn't appear to be too happy given the Grinch was stealing her presents! Immediately thereafter, the round blue bed - positioned in the right-hand corner of the stage with its high back towards the audience and the words "Merry Christmas" printed on it - began to spin; and Rachel and Jenny (another gorgeous dancer) appeared in view. They were playing most seductively and pretended to kiss and caress each other. I loved watching Cindy Lou whip Grinch's green ass for being so cruel! At one point in the skit, Grinch's large, over-stuffed, orange and peach-stripped fuzzy penis popped out from his costume. I could hardly keep from laughing my ass off. The skit ended with Cindy Lou smacking the Grinch again with the whip as Rachel and Jenny played with each other on the spinning the bed. When Daddy finished changing back into his Anti-Claus outfit it was my turn to be spanked again, only it wasn't over his lap in the cage. It was in the dentist chair. The prior events of the evening had me feeling immeasurably horny, which only made every touch, drip of candle wax, and whipping that much more intense. Anti-Claus must've been feeling selfish that night because he blocked the view to the audience by sitting on my legs while teasing and torturing my breasts. I didn't mind because given the firm way he straddled my legs he made me orgasm that much harder. I went home wearing a big smile because my fantasy had been fulfilled.
Dear Diary, The club was simply cool. Decorated with the Halloween spirit, the air stirred with a perfect spookiness, and just as I entered, there was a coffin inside the large iron cage, surrounded with numerous lit candles. On this night I was wearing a shiny, black PVC dress with matching thigh-high boots. Under my dress I had on a small, matching thong and bikini set. I looked like a twentieth century bad girl from the movie the Matrix, and nothing could save me from sin that night. Not even the Pope! I mentioned the Pope because Daddy was dressed like one. I just about came in my panties when I saw him as the Pontiff, because I honestly have a fantasy of seducing a religious man. (Granted, the Pope is kind of high up the ladder.) In the cage, the Pope (Daddy) was trying to save Rachel's soul, and she was positioned seductively upon the coffin with Daddy praying or playing (or maybe even both) between her long beautiful legs. I was dancing on a stage platform near the dentist chair when Daddy approached and began teasing a young man dancing on an opposite platform near the catwalks. (It's too bad the dancer wasn't dressed like an altar boy.) Daydreaming, I suddenly felt Daddy dance behind me. Later, Chuck, my husband, had told me he was pretending to want to touch me when my back was turned but couldn't find it in his soul to sin. When I finally felt his presence and turned around, I flicked my pretty, pink tongue at him as if I was the Devil in disguise. My hips oscillated to the beat of the music as I unsnapped my dress to reveal my mostly naked body to his eyes. During those rapidly whirling moments, I instinctively got down on my knees and attempted to repent for my sins, and the Pope was giving into his sexual desires. Apparently from what I was told after our short impromptu skit, the erotic movements of our bodies appeared as if I was sucking on his hard cock, and both of us were enjoying every bit of it. When our impulsive performance had ended, my face was flushed and I could barely walk to my table due to my excitement and exhaustion. I'm unsure of where Daddy went for a short time, but when he reappeared, he had changed into his Dom attire and motioning with his finger that it was my time on stage. As usual, I eagerly strolled up the stage steps, and once again Daddy restrained me into the dentist chair, going about his routine of teasing, taunting, and punishing me with ice, feathers, and whips. The prior events that evening had me extremely horny once more, and every sensation I felt increased my need to be fucked so bad. When Daddy finally placed the vibrator between my legs and onto my stiff clit, I grabbed hold of it with my thighs and rubbed my aching pussy on the toy until my legs climbed the fence separating the stage and dance floor. Lost in my own world, the metal links shook fiercely as the pulses from my trembling legs reacted to the powerful release of my burning orgasm It was such a wild night - one that will burn in my memory for years!
Dear Diary, It was after eleven when Daddy approached me from behind as I danced, and he instructed me to go to the highest catwalk with Rachel. Looking up, I smiled at the sight of the metal "house" frame which Rachel and I had previously played on. Only this time it remained still on the catwalk, and we were instructed to get on the two circular disks, facing each other. Daddy cuffed our hands submissively to the top and restricted our sight with two soft, red velvet blindfolds; but our legs remained unrestrained and free, enabling us to wrap them around each other. Below, the crowd buzzed with excitement. Daddy began our session by using his usual kinky tools, such as his soft feather, ice, pinching tongs, and stinging/spanking utensils. He removed my blindfold, but not Rachel's for some reason, and I surveyed her shocked reactions when he lost the piece of ice he was gliding over her skin. Spontaneously, I retrieved it, and using my tongue I cradled the cold chip between her tensing breasts. I continued, and holding the melting ice in my tongue, seductively graced a trail over her body, hoping to cool her down a bit. It was extremely hot on that catwalk, and under the spotlights our sweat glistened like diamonds on our skin. When the ice was almost completely gone, I past it from my mouth to hers, hoping to quench her thirst. Until this night, I didn't know that the metal "house" had iron pegs on the outside of its frame. Daddy told Rachel to put her right leg up on the post, which at waist level, and I was to do the same with my left. I'm sure this was quite the visual for our audience below. Rachel and I moved our hips in synch to the music as Daddy pleased and punished us in our provocative stance. Afterwards, I put both of my legs down as per Daddy's request, and Rachel was instructed to place her legs on each of the posts, spreading them wide before me. It appeared to the crowd that I was licking her pussy, which looked admittedly so sweet gyrating to the music and pumping just inches from my face, and I found myself tempted to secretly seek her most private scent. During our kinky escapade, Daddy left us and returned with an exquisitely sexy petite female, who wore her dark brown hair in tight pigtails. Daddy had given her free reign with the toys, and she played with the two of us, regardless if we wanted her to or not. Understandably, this turned me on even more. The little Dominatrix teased us with the vibrators, feather, and ice, and punished us with a spanking stick that had a small black leather hand attached to the end. Without warning, I felt Daddy place one of his legs between my thighs, and immediately my body shook with arousal, sensing his leather pants beneath my hot pussy. I grinded hard against his leg, trying to create the friction that would satisfy me. It appeared as if I was riding a stallion, and while grinding my aching pussy on his leg, I heard him say to me, "Rachel likes her nipples bitten." With his comment I extended my body towards Rachel's nipples and bit lightly through the thin material of her bikini top. Her moans sliced through the booming waves of techno music, and I felt her nipples fill to meet my pressures. I don't recall how many orgasms
I had that evening as I rode Daddy's leg and played with Rachel on that
catwalk. There were many, but that's about all I can claim confidently.
However, I'm certain that when Daddy
Believe it or not, I became strangely ill afterwards, and I can only assume it was due to my worn-out state. I had so many orgasms, too many I guess, that my husband had to pull over on the way home and wait for me to recover. I don't drink alcohol, so it wasn't from intoxication; but still it perplexed me. Regardless, the memory of that night still makes my panties wet. I wish I could transport you, my readers, into my mind and enable you to experience what I have over these past three months. I can't even begin to describe all of the succulent, orgasmic details. Ground Zero has been incredible, and throughout these three months, Daddy's creativity has stirred me to even a higher level. He's been featuring more erotic skits that have been so stimulating to observe. Some of the little plays have involved both beautiful Greek and exotic Egyptian scenes. He also created a timely tale of the presidential election, another called "The Hating Game," and even a few involving the Catholic religion. Someday I'd love to perform in one; however, for now I enjoy the thrill of watching. Ground Zero is definitely the place where I feel at home, and my adventures there just continue to get better and better! I can hardly wait to discover what's ahead in my upcoming weeks. Until then... "The Diaries of Lady M" Copyright © 2001 Lady M. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.
Join Adult Friend Finders-- World's Largest FREE Personals Site |
