Me, My Muse and I.

My dungeon has some of the most exquisite light. There are ample mirrors to reflect not only the light, but your pain. This way, I can see you suffering for Me from all angles, and if you are lucky, you might catch a glimpse of Me as well.

As a photographer and a narcissist, I have always been interested in My image. I am typically uninterested in how others view Me, unless I admire their artistic proclivities. Self-portraiture is one of My favorite forms of artistic expression (and foreplay/self-love). The other day I arrived early to My dungeon as Magic Hour was approaching. I caught My reflection in the mirror and was struck with how perfectly the light was caressing Me and My perfect feet. Luckily, I had My camera with Me.


Cultivating a Devotional Yoga Practice.

The most frequent e-mail I get is requesting more information on kinky yoga. Whether it be developing a crush on their bare-foot teacher, focusing their drishti on a particular yoga bum or noticing similarities between sub-space and their yoga practice, it seems that every man who has been to a yoga class has picked up on it’s pervertable potential.

I’ve been incorporating elements of yoga into My slave training since I first got involved in the scene. But it is an exciting thing when I get to incorporate slave training into a slave’s regular yoga practice or help people explore their kinks through a different and potentially unknown modality. I like My slaves to be cognizant of what they do to their bodies and what they put in them, because if they are offering Me their body, it better be cared for. To offer Me an uncared for vessel is an insult.

Practicing yoga, much like submitting to a skilled Domina, can be remarkably therapeutic and cathartic and can have countless benefits. For many, yoga is a deeply spiritual practice based in ideas of devotion and surrender. So, it is only natural that when setting an intention for your practice, it should be to serve Me.

My kinky yoga sessions are held in My private play space in the LES or in a private yoga studio in Midtown. Send Me an e-mail to to start on the path of creating a devotional yoga practice.


Things I love:

-Bramacharya (chastity / orgasm control) Yoga

-Cross Dressing Yoga

-Foot Fetish Yoga

-Public Yoga

-Slave Training Yoga

-Stress Posture Yoga and Forced Fitness

Narcissist / Succubus / Muse

I am a Narcissist. Whether it be inspiring submission from slaves or collaborating on photography projects with talented photographers, the role of Muse comes naturally to Me. I am able to easily get into your head, plant seeds, step back and watch them grow into something devastatingly beautiful. I like having tangible evidence of My devastating effect over others in the form of tears, blood, money or imagery.

In the next few months, I have plans to collaborate with some of my favorite artists, I am sure that you can’t wait to see more.

It’s My birthday. You’ll cry if I want you to.

“Happy birthday, Mistress Blunt! Thank you for helping me check a few things off of my bucket list (#2 & #17) and for filling my ears with custard and my eyes with tears.” <3 Margot.

“2. Bake a cake, frost it, then get fucked with my face in it.

17. Do sexy domestic things in a gag and lucite stripper heels. Be severely punished for my shallow domestic aptitude.”

For My birthday, I decided to help Miss Margot cross a few things off her bucket list. I’m such a giver.

Humiliation isn’t always My favorite thing, but when someone is as terrible at something as Margot is at baking, humiliation comes naturally. Margot told me that she would throw Me a birthday party and make Me gluten-free cakes. Knowing that she couldn’t make a cake to save her life, let alone one that was gluten-free, she attempted to make me a lemon merengue pie. What she created was something that was closer to ‘gak‘, and that is being generous.

I asked Margot how she expected Me to fuck her with her face in a cake if she couldn’t even BAKE me a cake? How was I supposed to help her cross things off of her bucket list? Didn’t Margot know that people who can’t even bake cakes don’t deserve to get fucked with their faces in one? Margot was ruining my birthday! Luckily, I had a box of 100 needles in my purse. I informed Margot that since she can’t bake, she will be getting penetrated over and over again by My little silver needles instead of My cock.

RichBNYC came over to save the day and brought Me a beautiful StrawBerry Pie. We made sure that Margot finished all of it as a first hand lesson in baking. Here is Rich’s written recipe for Margot’s Failure Lemon Meringue Torte.

Failure Lemon Meringue Torte

Lemon Curd

-2 large eggs

-Plus 2 egg yolks

-1 Cup sugar

-½ Cup lemon juice

-Grated rind of 2 lemons

-8 oz. butter, sliced thinly


Place all the above ingredients in the bowl of a double boiler, in which the water is simmering.  Stir constantly until thickened.  Cool & refrigerate in a covered container.  Best if made 3-4 days ahead and doused with tears.

Meringue Shell

-6 large egg whites, room temperature

-2 tsp. plain vinegar

-¼ tsp. Salt

-1 tsp. Vanilla

-1 ½ Cups sugar


Preheat oven to 250°.

Whip all ingredients (except sugar) in mixer until soft peaks form.

You are supposed to very slowly add the 1 ½ Cups sugar until stiff peaks form, but in this case, get impatient and add all the sugar at once, ruining the recipe and making “fail meringue.”

Cover a cookie sheet with parchment paper.  Mound the fail meringue into a solid 10-inch circle, or rather let it pool into an egg concoction at the bottom of a pan.

Bake at 250° for 1 hour.  Shut off oven & leave the fail meringue in the oven for 1 more hour.  Remove from oven & cool. Cry.

To assemble the torte:

Place the fail meringue circle on a serving platter. Hang your head in shame with a Tupperware of lemon curd as you are ridiculed for making fail meringue. Decorate with fresh fruit or your own blood, cry, and eat.

* The meringue will be more of an egg custard doused in tears, but the curd will taste delicious!

Hour Five.

In November, Margot asked Me to participate in her 12 hour BDSM Endurance Test, I took hour five. When she asked Me, I immediately began thinking of how to torture a little girl whose idea of a good time involves a cattle prod and a gallon of urine. She told Me about the other people who were participating, and I could tell that by the end of it, she would be laying on the ground in a puddle with every inch of her flesh marked.

Master R, who trained me at La Domaine, named me Blunt, advertising on the La Domaine Website that I had, ‘the subtlety of a metaphorical sledge-hammer’. The ‘sledge-hammer’, arguably one of Margot’s favorite toys, has no place in a 12 hour endurance test, or at least not in hour five. As I adore Margot, I wanted to make sure that no part of her was left unscathed. I didn’t want her to feel cheated. I asked my friend Mistress Mae to join me and we worked our way in through Margot’s stomach and up into her head.

Hour 5: Mistress Blunt and Mistress Mae 

Words by Miss Margot  (@Slitsville).

‘Each time I’ve visited La Domaine, I’ve resisted their slave protocol. Not wanting to feel obligated to behave like a Mistress, either, I’ve always used the excuse, But I’m a puppy  and promptly trotted to the vast backyard to find a patch of grass worth marking. Still, the members of the house, as well as its philosophies, have a way of creeping into your mind and manners.

No one realized that Mistress Blunt had even began until well after I was on my knees with palms upturned, neck straining to balance Mistress Mae’s pastry on my face. Mistress Blunt’s bondage is not restrictive, it’s mental. Have you told her about the interview? Mae asked. I study girls who like to be hurt.

I never could masturbate, I admitted. It felt like sticking my fingers in a jello mold…As soon as I started eating again all I could think about was sex. I don’t ever want to deprive myself…

You want to be used, Blunt said.

The two women barely touched me, but I felt as if every inch of my flesh had been scrubbed with steel wool. I felt vulnerable and embarrassed, but for all the exposure, I also felt safe. In the end, Mistress Blunt allowed me to curl up on her lap.’


**It is my suggestion that for her next endurance test, she be tied up in a corner and watch a pretty girl be tortured the entire time. But hey, that is just me.

Playing with Mistress Margot Rose and fifi.

Miss Margot is a friend of mine whom I usually have the pleasure of beating, however it is a rare pleasure to be able to dole out a beating WITH Miss Margot. Especially a beating near as hard as I can beat Miss Margot herself.

I invited Miss Margot to Bryant Park to view Saturday Night Fever this past week with  explicit promises exchanged that I would braid her hair and that she would seductively feed me kiwis. She teasingly told her slave, fifi, who had been wanting to meet me that we were hanging out. He begged her to see him later that night. After our movie, we made our way to Miss Margot’s private dungeon space. With the film still in our head, we had fifi strip to the sound track to get undressed. It took him a few times to get it right, and he eventually learned how to take his shirt off in one fell swoop.

Once he was naked Miss Margot and I blindfolded him, tied up his balls and connected them to his nipple clamps. His nipples and elevated balls made a perfect target for my whip. Once our canvas was primed, we laid him on his back, and secured his limbs to the bench, ceiling and wall. Miss Margot stood on top of her slave and spat in his mouth, while fifi moaned, “I want to be perfect for you.” Her flogger landed full force on his balls and with a thud, he begged for mercy. She asked slave fifi if he could take one more for her. He gathered himself and offered. After, he had told her that he had taken one more for her because he had thought the first one had been from Me. I didn’t even get to flog his balls, but I suppose that there is always next time…

Foot Fetish with Samir

Samir is the documentary photographer I have been letting follow me around for the last few months. On top of documenting the ins and outs of my life, I also made sure that he immortalized my dirty, dirty feet.

How Yoga Porn Changed My Life.

My first weekend of yoga teacher training, I think it was fair to say that I spent equal parts of My time training in the yoga studio and in independent study (aka searching for and watching yoga related pornography). A particular favorite of mine was of Daisy Marie and Laly’s hot private session. I sent a link to Mistress Margot Rose, and she created a handful of drawings for Me based on the video. I framed one of Daisy Marie inspecting Laly’s body in down dog. The quote, “You’ve got such a great body for this” accompanies the figures on the page.

It was this video that solidified My interest in the overlap of sexuality, BDSM and yoga. Throughout my instruction in yoga, I heard and found countless overlaps with My training as a Dominatrix. For the past few years I have been unknowingly incorporating aspects of yoga into My sessions through breath work (pranayama), certain poses (asanas) and mantra work. I frequently use these elements to help bring slaves into sub space, especially when slaves can’t be physically marked or do not necessarily identify as masochists.

Spending full days learning about getting in touch with our bodies in a room full of like-minded women (my class was all female) was every bit as arousing as it sounds. It was an experience that stimulated Me both sexually AND intellectually.

My yoga teacher was caring, devoted and strict. At times, I had to remind myself to call her by her name, and not, “Mistress.” It was amazing hearing her get a class full of students into the right postures with minimal use of words, and watching the class get silent when she looked as if she might have something to say.

Practicing yoga, much like submitting to a skilled Domina, can be remarkably therapeutic and cathartic. People have been known to cry and even spontaneously orgasm in a yoga classes. The overlap between SM, sensuality and yoga is mind blowing. Learning about meditation and asanas (postures), and mudras (hand postures) of submission and devotion were uncannily similar to what I learned as a Mistress in training at La Domaine.

I recently began incorporating yoga more consciously into My sessions by helping slaves and submissives cultivate a devotional yoga practice. I did a kinky yoga session the other day with a crossdresser. I helped him attach his footless stockings to his garter belt and we began an hour and a half yogic practice in my private yoga studio. With an emphasis on offering, devotion and surrender, I directed my slave through a series of devotional poses. I excitedly gave him adjustments that were handsy and sensual and in a way that I have to refrain from doing while teaching a normal yoga class. I also enjoyed incorporating my interpretation of Brahmacharya (celibacy of sorts) through orgasm control training.

Through the incorporation of yoga into My slave training I am able to impart the importance of both physical and mental well-being to My submissives. I like my slaves to be in shape and to be healthy, and I like to tell them what to do, so the role of assertive yoga teacher is win-win. My slaves should be cognizant of what they do to their bodies and what they put in them, because if they are offering Me their body, it better be cared for. To offer Me an uncared for vessel is an insult. Kinky yoga allows Me to take a hands on approach to My slaves physical and mental health while providing an erotic and exciting experience for both of us. In this manner, My slaves are able to explore their submission from a perhaps unfamiliar modality.

One of the most erotic experiences I have had in a yoga class – apart from one crazy shavasana orgasm- was taking a yoga class with a lover. Offering our practice to each other helped us bond off of the mat as well. In Shavasana, as we lay like corpses next to each other, with our palms facing up, I took my pointer finger and gently traced the life line on his palm. As we focused on our breath, inhaled ‘let’ and exhaled ‘go’, I could feel his relaxed and controlled excitement mount, as he squeezed My hand, letting me know, “Mistress, please stop or I will cum.”