The Madness of Crowds

I have always been interested by human behaviour. By the inner workings of our minds, which we all feel to be so individual, and yet are so frighteningly alike. I have, since my early teens, been fascinated by the propaganda and art and stirring speeches of revolutionaries, tyrants and dictators, of artists and musicians and secret political groups.

When I was sixteen, I joined a local political group, the Socialist Worker Party. Not because I felt any particular affiliation to them, but because of their post-punk, anti-authoritarian ways. I went flyposting, sprayed graffiti under bridges, attended rowdy meetings in the back-rooms of dingy bars, and I watched. The cult-like behaviour of the group was utterly absorbing. From the posters and placards to the weekly newspaper, all of it was designed to appeal to a certain person, and I wanted to figure that person out.

Years later, I was walking home from my IT job, about nineteen, maybe twenty years old. In the middle of the city square, the Scientologists had set up a marquee. I took careful inventory of the bright colours, the clever design-work of the leaflets and posters, the way the terribly friendly and loving members would engage passers by and draw them in. I sat down in the tent and listened to a speech, watched the reactions of those around me, made mental notes of the subtle hypnotic techniques they employed. I wanted to figure them out.

There have been many such occasions. I’ve sat in on dozens of group meetings since then, everything from the local council to the reptile society, and watched and listened and taken things in. I’ve learned to recognize and understand the truly indescribable power of propaganda, and the desperation of humans to be a part of something. To feel understood. To feel heard. To feel that they alone are in possession of some secret wisdom that the masses fail to understand. It is genuinely fascinating, the lengths we go to as a species, to convince ourselves that we are special.

Here in hypno-land, things are somewhat different. Here, the overwhelming desire is to be rendered mindless. To become consumed by another, their will overtaking your own. The ultimate pleasure is to succumb to the hive mentality, to lose your identity, to be weak and empty and blank, I Love Leader, I Am Slave. It fascinates in an entirely different way, and yet… is it different really? If being weak makes you desirable to a woman, if losing your senses makes you feel pleasure, if joining her stable and losing your sense of self enthrals you… Is it that you are consumed by her propaganda, or is it that you are smart enough to recognize that this is the better option?

To willingly give up your control. Give up your power. Give up yourself. Not because you were tricked or drawn in against your wishes, or didn’t know what you’d gotten yourself into, but because you actively chose to do so, it’s better than the alternative. Better than falling prey to a hundred blaring messages from every organization in existence. Better to open your mind to one bright, beautiful, glowing message that brings you pleasure, than wallow in the muddy waters of social construct, advertising and false belief. Better to be nothing, to be nobody, if it is for her pleasure. It gives you a curious freedom in a world of constraints.

Vintage Vixen

I love the way satin feels against my skin. More than any other clothing, satin makes me feel sexy and powerful! Perhaps you’ve seen a few pictures of me, scattered hither and yon, dressed (or undressed) in that luxuriously decadent fabric. Perhaps you’ve noticed a particular gleam of wicked mischief in my eye whenever I’m wearing it. 😉

I’m going to be real with y’all for a minute here, so brace yourself. Years ago I had major body issues. I hated my body and punished it for not being ‘perfect’ with way over-the-top diet and fitness regimes. I didn’t eat a custard tart in ten years, and I love custard tarts with a deep and visceral passion! I tied up a lot of my self-worth in the slenderness of my thighs. This is not unique to me, a lot of women are (or have been) in similar states of never-ending battle with their bodies.  It took me a long goddamn time to reach a state of peace with my physical imperfections, and even longer to actually embrace all my wiggly, jiggly bits, and acknowledge the power that actual feminine curves have over men.

If it wasn’t obvious, I’ve loosened up considerably.

But what does that have to do with my love of satin? I’m so glad you asked! It occurred to me that I’d not really taken many body shots (ooh-er!) in the last couple of years, and that just won’t do, darlings. So to celebrate my twin loves of bouncy-soft curves and sexy satin, here’s a brand new picture just for you boys.

Want to see the other three from this set?

Now, where are the custard tarts? 😉


Hello darlings. I have a VERY special treat for you! Read on…

I have a lovely, sexy new mp3 in the works. One which is certain to become a firm favourite. This new session plants a special trigger in your brain, to turn you instantly into a helpless, befuddled, horny little mess when you hear it. I’ll be using a delicious fractionation induction to drop you deep into trance, where I can bypass all your critical and analytical functions, to fuck with your subconscious mind and your instinctive reactions.

What’s so special about this trigger, you ask? Well that’s the fun part, sweetness. The trigger is whatever you want it to be! When you pre-order this session, you get to choose the word or phrase that screws with your head. I will record a very special version of it just for you, including your name and trigger of choice!

This session is an open design, meaning that it does not demand submission to me or assume a submissive nature in general. It is pure eroticism, focusing solely on the mindless pleasure and intense arousal you feel when your trigger is spoken.

Once recording is complete, I will not be offering any further personalizations of this mp3, so order now to avoid disappointment!! Fill out the form below to order your personal copy of Bubble Brain, which will be ready for download by the end of this month.

You know you NEED it!

Fixed Price: $75

Pre-ordering works on a First Come First Served basis. I may end this promotion early if too many orders are received.

And we’re DONE.

But don’t worry, you can still find the generic version of this mp3 in my store. 🙂

For the attention of…

The past few years have been incredibly busy for me. Aside from being a full time lifestyle Domme with several boys to rule over, I’ve also been working to set up my vanilla hypnotherapy business, completing educational courses in psychotherapy and advanced clinical hypnosis, working with a local dance school and designing perfume blends for an online retailer. To sum up: Good Lord I’ve been busy!

Busy is not a bad thing though, for women like myself. Busy is control and accomplishment. Two things I very much enjoy, as you probably already know.

It’s a strange thing. The more I do, the more I want to do. The more I achieve, the more I feel at peace with my world. And what I most want to do right now, is take a little break from scholarly pursuits, and relax into the warmth and comfort of my beautiful world here, in the wonderful erotic hypnosis community. You may have noticed my presence has become more frequent of late, and more demanding. Get used to it, sweetness. My creativity is at an all-time high, and my need to dominate and control is rapidly shooting off the scale!

I am effervescent with desire, exuberant with possibilities and positively ebullient at the thought of where I might go next. Where I might take you, when you inevitably surrender to my voice and pledge your mind to my superior feminine wishes.

Tell me sweetness, don’t you want to be taken? 😉



It’s a long time since I first discovered my own power. My unique, personal power, that belonged only to me and which nobody could take from me. You have it too, of course. Everybody does. But mine? Mine is special. It’s special because I choose to use it in very direct and targetted ways, which the vast majority of women do not. I don’t understand that choice, frankly. In my perfect world, women are always in charge; but that’s a whole other story.

My power is soft. It’s curved. My power is in delicacy and charm, in an artistic flair and in the ability to wield a riding crop and a sentence with the same pointed and stinging intent. My power is in making you want to say yes.

But here’s the thing about power that so many people don’t understand. Acknowledging someone else’s power, absolutely does not deplete your own supply. It doesn’t diminish you. It doesn’t make you somehow less. In fact, I don’t want you to be less. When you submit to me, I want it to be from a place of personal empowerment. I want to empower you to kneel. I want your adoration, and yes, even your love, to add to your life, not to subtract from it. This is how I use my power: To heal and nourish the submissive soul.

My power is infinite, because I know who and what I am. I feel no confusion, shame or regret when it comes to indulging my fetishes or giving free reign to my desires. This is what it is to be a dominant woman. It is the casting off of the veil that little girls are draped in, that says you must always be sweet and accommodating and inoffensive. It’s a beautiful, liberating thing to do, and I have never stopped being glad that I had the conviction to do it. And I have never stopped being glad, my sweet, that you are here to share in the experience.



Man Down!

I’ve been playing a lot with erotic humiliation recently. It’s a subject I never outwardly displayed too much interest in previously, and there is a reason for that. The adult entertainment scene is awash in humiliation. It’s everywhere. It’s wildly popular! And yet to me it’s lacking something. Some element of joy. Or some sweetness, perhaps.

To me, humiliating somebody is a very delicate thing. A very finely crafted act of tenderness. I want to see you open and raw, your very heart exposed to be stepped upon. Naked and infinitely vulnerable. I want to hurt you just enough… Juuuust enough to sting. And I want you to know, no matter what I make you do, no matter the names I call you or the deep embarrassment I cause you; it’s ok. It’s ok to allow yourself to be vulnerable with me. It’s safe. I won’t hate you for it. I won’t think less of you, though of course you’re going to have to take my word on that, since my words alone (in-session) imply the opposite.

And having sorted out that tangled web in my own heart, and having shared my conclusion with you in this blog post, I feel more free. Lighter. Happier. More inclined to share my love of all things sticky and sweaty and occasionally gross. 😉

And today I’m sharing something more than just thoughts. I’m sharing a brand new session. Shots Fired.  You can go read about it, and if you feel the urge to open up more deeply than ever for me, you can purchase and listen. And know that I’m watching, sweetness. Watching with a beady eye, and smiling.