Hello my little empire, I’m back in my heart’s home, London, for a few days in May. I can’t WAIT to show you how sadistic I’ve been feeling lately. Mercury only goes out of retrograde the day I arrive, so I will be doing lots of caning, whipping, paddling, flogging, spanking, tormenting, crushing and trampling. It’s been that kind of month.

If you’re ready to take a vacation for a day, book your time with me. I’m not in town all that often, and I know some of you are utterly desperate to see me again. And for you new faces, I’m completely thrilled to beat you. I mean meet you. Cheers!

Hello slaves! In London for a few days and looking to intimidate a few gentlemen in my free time. Please apply to serve at mistressdarcy.com/booking. I’ll be conducting sessions out of a private rental dungeon in Bloomsbury. My best dates right now are May 3 and May 7-9. Get in touch ASAP, I’m already booking up!

Hello slaves! A flying journey into LA for a few days. Looking forward to seeing all of you again. Book IN ADVANCE as I have a packed vanilla schedule while I’m in town. I’ll be seeing slaves at a domestic apartment in Hollywood.

I’ll be packing for CBT and heavy NT, humiliation, cross-dressing and feminization, toilet training, roleplay, latex and leather fetishes and a LOT of corporal punishment! Whips, canes, floggers, and more. Spoil yourself with a few hours under my control.

Miracles CAN happen. I have an opening for a new personal slave in New York City. You must be able to serve in person at least once a week. Duties include cleaning, organization, errands, and general assistance at my studio.

This is NOT by definition an opportunity for “play.” Service slavery is service slavery, and I take both of those words very seriously. If you are confused about the intricacies of a high protocol, service-based D/s relationship then you need to do a bit of research before applying.

All inadequate or unsuitable applications will be rejected. You may receive a response letting you know you have not been accepted if you are eager and make a good effort in the application. Suitable candidates will be contacted within one to five weeks.

Submit your application at www.mistressdarcy.com/apply.

The lovely ladies at Coco de Mer have invited me to teach a very exclusive roleplay salon once again June 22nd in the UK. Their flagship store is located in gorgeous Covent Garden, London and is a veritable garden of luxurious sex accessories, lingerie, kink accoutrements and all sorts of bondage finery.

My salon, The Marvels of Roleplay, will cover everything from how to try your first sexy roleplay ever to some advanced techniques for transporting your imagination and sex drive into an altogether new plane of consciousness. With powerful techniques for mind control and a few handy tips for integrating physical tools, my roleplay class sets a new standard for cultivating creative scenarios in the bedroom (and, if you do it right, outside the bedroom too).

I’ll have a gorgeous accomplice or two while I’m teaching, but you’re welcome to bring your lover or spouse along with you if your love life needs a pick-me-up. It’s also an ideal setting to ask me anything and everything you’ve wanted to know about kink: I’ll be available for questions during and after the salon.

Sign up now to guarantee your spot for June 22. They’re already taking orders for tickets and space is limited! Store location: Seven Dials London, 23 Monmouth St, London WC2H 9DD

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So incredibly excited to be coming back to Boston for a few days. I’ve missed you! I’ll be packing enough equipment to do some serious damage when I arrive. Make sure you get all your bad behavior out of the way now, because when I get there you’ll be getting slapped into shape. If you can handle it, you get to massage me when it’s over.

I’m in the mood for spanking, paddling, singletail, humiliation, verbal degradation, forced bi, toilet training, public scenes, CBT to make your head spin, and caning, caning, caning.

Come kiss my boots in person and beg for mercy. Just kidding, I don’t use safewords.

Cuckolding Mistress

I crashed a recent fashion shoot Robert was doing and convinced him to take some pics with me.

As some of you may already know, I tear through male models faster than a lion in a gazelle convention. This month is no different; I’ve been incredibly stressed out which means I need some extra hands on deck (read: my vagina) when I’m trying to cut loose.

Cuckolds, meet Robert. Robert is six foot four. He could probably benchpress you.

 

I’m doing cuckolding sessions with Robert for the rest of January and, I’m guessing, February as well. Fill out my online booking form to inquire. He’s got a great, um, set of assets and is eager to explore more of the kink scene with desperate, lonely cucks like yourself.

Cuckolding Session

Goofing around behind the scenes at another shoot. Pic by 2G Photography.

So far, our chemistry is unprecedented (I’ve never had anyone pick me up and fuck me *in the air*), and if you’ve always wanted to try cuckolding this is a fairytale opportunity. I’m one of the top cuckolding Dommes in the business because I really, deeply understand it and, just as important, I love it.

There’s nothing quite so relaxing as feeling your environment in deep agreement with who you really are at your core. I see through you; there’s no fooling me. Now get on your knees and kiss the ground we walk on. Time for you to meet a real man.

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When my good friend Karley Sciortino, a.k.a. Slutever, asked me to weigh in on golden showers (what are they? who likes them? why?) for Vogue Magazine after the #GoldenShowers scandal with the president elect, I of course said yes. I was delighted to have such an esteemed publication ask for my thoughts, and immediately took the opportunity to demystify kink and offer a pro-golden shower stance.

As I said in the article, this is the first redeeming thing I’ve heard about @realDonaldTrump, and I refuse to kink-shame over something like this. What I did think was strange, however, was that so far in the memos, the alleged incident involved him watching several prostitutes urinate on a bed–not urinate on him. First of all, what a waste of a scene! Second of all, this is not a submissive act: watching women urinate themselves is far more dominant. I’m left wondering, as usual, just what was his agenda? Was he attempting to be submissive to the women in that Moscow hotel room, or was he hoping they would debase themselves with their “performance”? Either way, I’m intrigued.

(Now if only Mike Pence would follow suit! #DoubleEnder)

Full article at Vogue.com.

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Darcy told me that, generally speaking, people who enjoy golden showers can be broken down into three main categories:

1) People who have an association with urine either from an early sexual memory, or from an early love bonding memory—for instance, during potty training—that later became sexualized.

2) People who have created a bond with their partner through urination play. Darcy told me, “Doing this for the first time with someone who you’re dating is very intense—it’s a bonding experience, and creates intimacy. It’s a way to have an exciting or maybe scary experience with someone, and come out the other side closer than you were before.”

3) People who are drawn to the “filth” aspect of golden showers. These are usually submissives who already have an interest in sexual humiliation and degradation, and being pissed on becomes an extension of that. This category also includes “human toilets”—so people whose fantasy is specifically to be a toilet for a dominant.

According to Darcy, “Golden showers are an aquired taste. It’s kind of like calamari: You might think it’s disgusting, but have you ever tried it? Golden showers are basically the calamari of the kink community.” For a lot of people, golden showers are just an alternative way of being intimate with someone. Darcy told me, “I’m a dominant, which means I’m usually the one doing the peeing, but if Channing Tatum wanted to pee on me, I’d be like, Yeah, go.”

Darcy also noted that it’s rare to meet someone who has a kink only for golden showers, meaning that someone who is into piss play will likely have other kinks as well. “You can sexualize anything,” she said. “It’s just about building a bridge in the brain that wraps a certain activity or object in a cloak of eroticism.” The more you know.

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Thanks Nicholas. I don’t disagree. (Originally posted on Fetlife).

I have know Mistress Darcy for over six years. Having met many women both professionally and personally in this community, I feel compelled to acknowledge my incredible admiration for Mistress Darcy and what she has been able to accomplish since our first meeting.

To be sure, she is a beautiful woman, and she has continued to maintain her fit and youthful appearance. A dominant woman’s ability to capture and control the spirit of a man is in large part a function of her physical presence, and here she excels. Mistress Darcy, however, is so much more than this. Her physical beauty channels a powerful mind, and this is her greatest appeal.

She is a genuine lifestyle dominant. This is real for her, and sincerity is enormously important. Her grace and poise have formed over a lifetime and in the company of educated, thoughtful people. I do not know her background, but grace, elegance and (at least) emotional intelligence are never accidents and seldom learned late in life. She is an alpha in every respect, and this too matters.

I make this next observation with great respect, intense humility, and a certainty that I am less then her. That said, being older than her, and I believe more experienced at the time that we first me, I can say that she has grown immensely as a dominant woman. This was not a chance development or merely a function of her time in the community, this was the result of a conscious and successful effort to perfect herself. She has done this not only by spending time with great dominant women in the States, but also in London. For anyone who has spent time in the London femdom scene, the non-pro community in particular is very different than what we have in the States, and her time spent in the UK has contributed to shaping her.

She has received many accolades including honorariums at Domcons. Her visual aesthetic is seldom-matched, and as a result her website is one of the best in the industry. I am excited about her new release of femdom fiction on Amazon. It should prove to be a peak into her mind from which any submissive could benefit.

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HONEYMOON

SCENE 1: THE ROAD

 

He laughed into the wind, sucking in mouthful after mouthful of joyous, salty air as the rocky cliff flanking the road suddenly parted and dropped, revealing an astonishing expanse of blue that stretched away from the cliff sides and into oblivion. Allen blinked through wind-tears, wiping at his blue-gray eyes—Thames gray, to be exact: the gray of fog and smog, of all those soggy English women he had dated over the years, and of the dreary vacations he’d taken with them to the sad crags of the English shores, which now, in comparison, seemed like ghost-cliffs and shadow-waters. This was real ocean, ocean as it was intended: a sparkling sapphire carpet that caught the light of the afternoon with a thousand tiny, dancing facets and made you think, just for a moment, that maybe you could fly.

Was this his life? The beauty of the Baja Sebastien Vizcainzo Bay was only the latest in a string of perfections that filled his heart with a fireworks display of satisfaction. He had just sold his second screenplay in Hollywood and was, according to his agent, “hot” right now. Very hot. With that paycheck he had promptly bought a black convertible Mercedes, in which he now sat proudly. Next to him was the gorgeous, brilliant, essentially perfect woman he married a mere 18 hours ago. The wedding had been a Herculean task to organize but was an enormous success. The ceremony in England to please his parents, the reception in LA to please hers, and three dozen of their closest friends who had used the word “perfect” themselves more times than Allen could count. She—his wife—had looked better in her dress than he had ever imagined, gliding over to him at the ceremony with a power and grace that prompted him, unexpectedly, to drop to his knees when he gave his vows. She was nestled behind the wheel of his convertible now, the wind tossing her long, dark hair around her shoulders and neck, occasionally nipping at her cleavage, which  was shamelessly on display in a tight white tank top…no bra. He smiled to himself, knowing that those breasts would soon be in his mouth. His wife’s breasts, and his wife’s thighs, gently spreading for him as he laid her back gently onto the hotel bed for the first time as his own, his woman, his fingers drifting up to the warm crease between her—

“Allen—look!” She pointed at the sky in front of them. An eagle was hovering in the air about 200 feet above the cliffs, perfectly still as it balanced on the gentle Gulf breeze.

“Ah, he’s just showing off for you,” Allen yelled above the wind, shifting against the swelling in his crotch.

Why had he waited so long to come to this glorious land? Darcy, his beloved wife, had been telling him for years that he needed to see Mexico, that no country was so relaxed and pleasant and sensual all at the same time. She had summered here as a child and knew the Southern tip of Baja intimately, and so when it came time to plan their honeymoon, she naturally insisted on making arrangements on her favorite strip of Mexican coastline. Allen hadn’t lifted a finger to plan any of it, except to lift his credit card from his wallet from time to time. He liked it that way: it was sexy and easy and all of their holidays together seemed to fall into the same natural rhythm: Darcy would give him a choice of three destinations, usually in three different countries, and he would select his favorite. Then she would set about masterminding the ideal itinerary, carefully plotting every detail, every meal and every outfit, barking threats down the phone to the travel agents and concierges when things didn’t go her way. Allen was usually seated at his desk, typing away while she worked the phones, his credit card primed nearby, ready for the moment she needed it. Some part of him did like that feeling, the idea that he was being used for his money to satisfy her decadence. The phrase “wallet rape” always popped into his head whenever Darcy called out to him in that gentle, cooing tone she used when she wanted something expensive. Still, a good rape is a good rape, and even wallet rape was sexy when it was Darcy.

His other unofficial holiday job that they had never officially discussed was a bit less glamorous, though he bore it well. Darcy refused to carry her own luggage, instead forcing “bag boy” to “take care of it.” She always said the words so sweetly and with such a genuine smile that Allen actually didn’t mind the task—although to be clear, Darcy did not pack light… ever. She had been known to bring as many as three suitcases with her for a simple weekend away, and for their honeymoon she had splurged on a new Vuitton luggage set in order to accommodate her 16 dresses and 3 bathing suits specially selected for the Mexican seaside. The suitcases were now snug in the back seat of the convertible where Allen had left them, seemingly enjoying the sunshine as the car sped past cliff after cliff after cliff.

To be continued…