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I like to have my subjects keep a journal so I can review their progress and response to training. It allows me to gain insight into their experiences very quickly. Here are a couple of excerpts from a boy I am doing some distance training with.
April 17th "My fetish has always been for leather. The quintessential Domina fabric. I adore all kinds of fetish clothing, love leather. Rubber? Okay - but doesn't float my boat...
Until.
Until SHE came into my life.
And now I am thinking about rubber. It's appeal. The visit to DeMask. The salesperson, responding that I needed an item made of rubber: "Well - rubber is all we sell.."
Rubber.
Will she addict me to this fabric? What is the process of rubber enslavement?
Is she taking over my mind?"
(Taking over a slaves mind is never my goal. I adore probing into and expanding areas of their psyche, but I want to open them up. The last thing I want to do is shut them down. There are to many apathetic people sleeping at the wheel as it is. My goal is to help them center and live in the present moment even if it is painful. This teaches them to serve themselves, as well as my own interests. The more centered and balanced they are, the more pleasant my life becomes.)
Here is his journal entry just two days later. With no further contact from me. "Rubber Immersion Indoctrination: Can't stop thinking about it.
I thought I was too experienced, too jaded to find another fetish. Too locked in to the grooves that my own desires have etched in my brain over the years. Nothing new to wonder about. Or experience.
Until I had the privilege of HER presence.
I need to rubber immersed. Total rubber immersion. I want an outfit that covers my entire body. Rubber boots. Skin-tight rubber pants. Rubber underwear - with rubber inflatable butt plug. Rubber top (I saw one at Demask that I adored - no sleeves. You cross your arms in front, like a straight jacket. Fiendishly kinky). Rubber hod - with inflatable rubber ball gag. Rubber posture collar. Rubber harness.
Rubber. Rubber. Rubber.
Being made to kneel and sway on the floor. Straightjacketed. Mouth filled with the taste of the rubber ball gag. Sightless. Rubber ear coverings muffling all sound. The room temperature turned up. Sweat glistening on my skin, the smell of my own body, total sensory deprivation. The pain in the legs from kneeling.
Rubber. The smell of rubber. The feel of rubber on my skin. The bitter taste of rubber on my tongue.
Rubber enslavement.
Minutes hours how long? spent on the ground, immersed in rubber.
The occasionally pump by a strong hand that I cannot see - but is more real, more concrete than anything in my life. Squeeze pump. The butt plug grows. I moan. And sway.
Another squeeze. The ball gag swells. I gag. Can she hear me?!? Terror and fear. The shattering of a soul in a million pieces.
How long?
Rubber. Rubber. Rubber.
How long will she keep me like this?
Rubber. Rubber. Rubber.
Until I am addicted.
Until I learn."
He is off to a fine start. I have not put any effort into cultivating his rubber fetish, so I can't wait to see what happens next week.
It sure is good to be a Pervy Queen.