ownership

26 06 2016

About love in My D/s relationships

Ezada Femdom talk D/s, domina, Domina/slave, female led relationship, love, ownership, relationship, submission, TPE 9

People often ask Me, whether there can be love in a D/s relationship. And quite often they are then surprised about My answer: Love is not only an option but a condition and the foundation of a true D/s relationship.

For people with a vanilla background this is hard to understand. How can it be love when a woman in leather boots severely whips a male who is tied to a whipping post and screaming in pain? How can a man feel love for a woman who finds pleasure in letting him crawl behind her on a dog leash during her high street shopping tour?

But not only vanilla people are astonished when I tell them about love in a D/s relationship. Sometimes fellow professional Mistresses express their reservation too. For some the submissive male is an anonymous client in the best case. More often than not he is just a worthless and despised irrelevant piece of crap.

For Me, this is totally different. And maybe this one of the main reasons that professional sessions with men that I do not have a personal relationship with have become rather uninteresting for Me.

So, when talking about love in a D/s relationship let´s look at the male perspective first: Does the slave love the Mistress who punishes him relentlessly? Of course he does. If he wouldn´t love her, he couldn’t do that: Stand the pain, take the humiliation. But wait a second I can hear the vanilla people say: The slave in the D/s relationship does he not exactly want this? Does he not enjoy the pain, relish the torture, indulge in it? Well let Me tell you: In most cases he does not. A masochist would. But I am not talking about masochists here. I am talking about “s”ubmissives. To tell You the true: I am not really interested in masochists. A masochists gets his personal kick out of the pain. It is about his kick and I am not interested in serving as a kick supplier for males. I am interested in My own lust and fulfillment. And so should any male who tries to fight his way through the thistly thorn hedge that securely surrounds My polyandry house.

Goddess Ezada Sinn smoking outdoor female supremacy

The submissive male is totally different from the masochist. There is a clear distinction between them that surprisingly seems to go unnoticed by the general public. The submissive is after submission. It is about subordinating under a stronger will, under a creature of a higher order, under female divinity. The submissive seeks to proof his allegiance, his devotion, his surrender to the Domina. His objective is to pamper and serve her to the best of his abilities. Her bliss is the centre of his live. And what more valuable concept could there be for a male?

Goddess Ezada Sinn female supremacy queen

Enduring pain and humiliation for the true submissive is not a means to selfishly satisfy hinmself and his male lust. It is a means to show the Domina that he endures that for Her. It is nothing but a proof of love. Without a love deeply felt and routed and founded within himself he could not go through all that. The whipping, the pain, the humiliation, the degradation. Only love can carry him through that. So in the whipping the message of the Dom is (at least in general) not “I torture you because I want to punish you” it is definitely not “I torture you because I hate you.”. It is “I torture you so that you can show your love to Me.” As incomprehensible as this may seem to the vanilla word, the whipping so becomes an act of love.

But what about the other side of the whip, what about the Domina and her feelings towards the slave? Well I have to say I have encountered many different perspectives of fellow Mistresses on this issue. I cannot and will not speak for all of them here. I only want to talk about Myself. And for Me it is very clear. I have a personal relation to only a very limited number of submissives who were lucky enough to get so far. In these D/s relationships I surely feel the love of the slave and I respond to it. I graciously open Myself for his feelings and encourage him to follow this path. I am deeply convinced that the slave needs that assertion from the Domina that she understands what he is telling her in his submission: “i offer myself to You, please accept my body and soul as a sacrifice.” It is then when the two souls of the D and the s can communicate without words, when they meet in a world of their own.

So, then, do I love My slaves who offer and submit themselves to Me? Well … yes, but not in a classic romantic way. No, My love is quite different from that… First of all I am very proud of My slaves and devotees. They are like faithful, valuable and useful human dogs. I cherish what they are and do for Me to make My life so wonderful. Seeing them humbly serve Me and follow My every order makes My heart sing with joy.

But it is even more than that, more than mere pride of ownership…. I love their abandonment, their unconditioned dedication, their addiction and commitment to Me. So what I deeply love in them is their fathomless love for Me. A love that they can express by overcoming their inhibitions, by enduring My whippings, by silently suffering under the high heels of My boots, by praying to My divinity. It is this love that makes them special and can make Me love them in return, though in a different way.

08 06 2016

Taking ownership of sit with a contract signed in blood

sit Sinn Femdom lifestyle stories contract, Evilyne, female led relationship, female supremacy, leather, London, ownership, sit, slave, whipping 7

by My collared slave sit

“A wise slave learns to never assume, at best we react only to Goddess Ezada Sinn’s wishes and desires, Stapana’s directives and cravings. She is the only One who defines the path slaves ultimately must choose to follow and obey.

Stapana Ezada extends to us the portage of slavery and the ones who worship Her remain totally at the mercy and directive of Her whim. Yes, i fear Her whip, Her wrath when i fail, Her use of long term orgasm control and chastity, and i utterly fear displeasing Her to a point where i am dismissed forever. Still, the more robust my obedience, the absolute my surrender, and capitulation to Her will, oh those actions boil forth outright consummate euphoria within my slave heart and soul.

In Her presence as morning begins, crawling to Her feet with coffee in hand, my eyes remain focused downward. Being allowed to greet such a human Goddess by placing a reverent kiss on the tender arch of each foot and then caressing Her sole with the skin of my facial cheek, pure heaven. What was once a dream is now transformed into a solemn daily ritual to start each day. I legitimately question if slaves are allowed to scream for joy in front of their Owners, or does the story of my jubilation adequately seep out from my eyes to Hers?

Stapana’s big toe astutely hooks my slave collar, plugging me closer till Her finger gains full control over my tilted neck. i am jerked within inches of Her lips, and the stream from Her balmy breath moistens the thick air between us. “Good morning sit,” audibly coats my eyes causing them to solidly shut tight. my hunger to scream impossible, as i’m incapable of any immediate breath. With just three words, Goddess has sliced open and exposed the submissive weakness of my soul. The power of my male will is again raped and stripped barren.

However in moments soon to be, i kneel in waiting position before Stapana in the presence of Her dear friend Mistress Evilyne. Goddess is holding in Her hands a contract, an Ownership Contact that She is offering to me. Our deeds and actions showcase purpose and goal, but for human kind it is the written contract, one sealed by signature, which remains a finalized and cast in stone agreement. The weight and reality of this moment stun. i feel suspended off the floor, not connected to my feet given the gravity of what She is extending to me. Seconds in time become frozen as She drops the multi page document to the ground just inches in front of my bowed head.

“Slave I want you to read the Ownership Contact out loud so Mistress Evilyne can bare witness. She understands the importance of ownership and what a contact such as this ultimately means.” The name Stapana has bestowed upon me is penned in thick black, it is the only name that matters to Her from here forward. The topic points are magnified in bold font style. The definitions of each are explained in clarifying directness.

Stapana codifies who We/we are, the purpose of the contact and most importantly the Symbols of Ownership She has placed on me. The outward symbols that reflect Her control and my chosen lifestyle to belong exclusively to Her and Her alone. my Duties of Servitude, my Expenditures, my Allowance, my Exclusions are all listed. This contact is formed in such a manner that Goddess can easily modify any of the points She wishes. Stapana makes it very clear that She will modify the contract over time to fit Her liking.

The section entitled Obligations is laden with 13 heavily worded definitions. The first is about Her obligations, the remaining twelve begin in kind: slave hereby acknowledges; slave shall address; slave shall be; respect includes; slave shall not; slave shall remain; slave shall pay full attention; slave shall sit, stand, walk, kneel, and lie where and when; slave shall not remove; slave shall dress as; friends and relative of Owner will be; respect and obedience are the two most important; failure will be punished.

However within one definition lays a weakness that will trap me in my duties and lead to pain. my command of the Romanian language is nil to the point of being absurd. The simple pronunciation of “Stapana” will highlight my faults and short comings. The strike of Her signal whip rains down on my backside with dissatisfied impatience. Goddess Ezada is more than unhappy with me, and i cannot correct my mistake given chances by both Her and Mistress Evilyne. Fifty whip lashes shall be administered while i am still tasked with the job of plainly reading the remaining contract points for Mistress Evilyne.

This whip is new, unbroken, its marks not pitted from the cracker but instead the stiff leather sows long red solid welts from the yet rigid shaft of the whip maker’s 16 plait weave. The whip does not need to crack to inflict pain, it slices the air more like an arrow breaking wind as it flies past. Her repeated lashes speed up the cadence at which sit speaks. At times my words become garbled, impossible to understand. Time and time again Goddess Ezada and Mistress Evilyne pull me back on task, while the whip, over and over dive me off onto the submissive ditch of the road.

my eyes are streaming tears when i’ve finished the final thirteenth point. Stapana and i pen Our/our names in heavy felt tip black, yet She is still obsessed with the need of redder ink to secure my signature. Goddess will extract my DNA, my blood to seal my mark. With eight final full strength whip lashes, my backside skin splays wide open and She harvests slave blood to complete the signing.

The contact pages are tossed freely to the floor and Goddess retorts in full vibrato to “Kiss My name slave.” In all my slave years i’ve kissed images of, shown respect for a Ladies whip, Her shoe, Her boots, Her cock, Her garment, the ground She walks on, and Her hand. Yet never have i been commanded to kiss the signature of Her name.

This mere act burns indelible into my psyche. The words have been written, the signatures attached, my life-force extracted, and the solemn act of an Ownership Contact, enforceable and in place. Every time i bow in the flesh before The One who owns me, i am pulled intensely by Her acts. Willingly and unexpectedly seduced to even deeper levels of submission that can only lead to one concrete destination. Total slavery under the Goddess Ezada Sinn. Maybe there is a chance that my life, a life of a slave will find true purpose. Yes, i am blessed and there are signed words which help reminds me of that joyous fact. That i am the realized and bound property of the One who contractually owns me.

Stapana mea, the Goddess Ezada Sinn.”

I like to catch important moments of My life on camera. you can watch Me take ownership of sit here: www.EzadaSinn.com/15795074

Curious to read the ownership contract? Download it for free here: Femdom consensual ownership contract between Goddess Ezada Sinn and slave sit

12 02 2016

sit meets his Goddess – Chapter 7: Goddess strips the past away

Ezada Femdom lifestyle stories ownership, slave training 3

The phone buzzes “sit, Wait at my door NOW.” Shower, half-asleep, rushing, you obey. “Breakfast, I want to take an early stroll on the beach.” Goddess takes a strange turn heading down a different staircase, at the bottom a secluded shower. “Ashtray position and hurry slave, I have to pee.” my second day of toilet training begins.

Goddess orders one plate of fruit, informs the waiter “bring him a bottle of water, he just had breakfast.” A wicked grin lights Her face. The beach is nearly uninhabited at this hour. She leads, i follow. Upon returning i am stripped and lay upon my back in bed. Goddess straddles my head and plants Her curvaceous derriere around my entire face and neck. She wiggles and drops Her entire body downwards, “How does the sea taste, my slave?” i’m in heaven except i can’t breathe.

She perches forward, grabs Her slave’s exposed balls, squeezes intensely. In pain i moan, squirm; my legs start to thrash. Rocking forward allowing a gasp of air, She again laughs then smothers my entire face shouting, “Kiss.” No one hears me scream at my plight to remain alive. Goddess rolls off, looks down at Her sweaty slave and coos “Good boy.”

On Her way out She notices my two old slave collars, the ones i wore before meeting Her. She alone bestowed the shiny steel ring lodged around my neck, for what i had imagined was to last only until the end of this trip. Sternly She announces “sit, those are your old collars, correct! Shower, arrange them RESPECTFULLY on the glass table outside your room. Waiting position, naked until I return.”

Her demeanor is different as She walks away, this is serious. i jump to obey. Doing as told i wait naked on walkway outside my room. People pass yet i remain motionless. In the distance, i hear a pounding clip of deliberate and measured high heel spikes approaching. They stop barely inches before the crown of my head.

The stringent and authoritarian tone of Her voice shatters the stillness of the moment. “slave sit, hand me your old collars. DO NOT look up at Me.” i respectfully raise them, palm and arms extended above my lower head. Her hand forcibly seizes my wrist and squeezes it like a snake coiling about its victim. i freeze, suspended in fright. Her stiletto nail wraps underneath my steel collar, and it’s sharp tip embeds deeply into the skin below my clinched jaw. Goddess uses my steel collar as a fulcrum to pivot my eyes upward. i slip into shock.

Goddess Ezada is radiant, in a sleek, form fitting outfit i have never witnessed. Her hair pulled tightly back, Her skin flawless, Her eye shadow dark with gold accents, Her lips aglow in fire red. Her gaze is ardent and fierce, the words following are sharp, and fierce.

“I am taking these old collars; you have NO use for them anymore. The ONLY collar you shall wear is the one I, your GODDESS, have locked around your neck. I am the ONLY one who can remove it. Do you understand slave?”

It’s impossible to speak in a moment such as this. my eyes, my tears sound my response. Goddess removes the old collars from my extended and trembling hands. She releases my shackled wrist. i remain stiff in mid air.

“Wait, till I return. Contemplate what has just happened, sit.” my head collapses to find the concrete floor, my arms stretch out beyond my skull as i assume the position so ordered. Her heels ring off, disappearing in the distance as She enters Her room. i lie motionless in “Wait” for well over an hour, barely noticing the stiffness in my limbs. The same people must be passing by. One Domme whom rooms next-door coyly mutters, “Poor sit, still here.” my mind is racing the entire time, did this just happen?

Goddess’s own voice eventually interrupts my clouded and swirling thoughts. “Up, its time for lunch.” i can barely rise to my knees from this now cemented cast of rigid muscle and bone. Goddess has changed into casual day wear yet remains dominantly radiant as ever.

“Lunch sit, follow. Yet, first I have to pee.”

06 10 2014

The collaring of Roger (part 2)

Ezada Fanart femdom, ownership, slave 3

As ordered I didn’t touch myself over the next few days, but it was difficult. All I could think about was the exquisite dominant lady that had forced me onto the floor at work to lick her boots. What a woman , all I could think about was her and how i might serve her again, I went up to the executive floor many times at work, any excuse to try and see her, but she either ignored me or cast me a withering glance ad if I was a piece of shit on her shoe. Such was my feverish state I began to imagine it hadn’t happened at all.

On Thursday I texted her number as instructed, saying it was me, and where was I to go to the following day. No answer at all that day and just as I was about to give up and go to bed a text popped up. It said, “Slave r, You have been brave and made the 1st step on your journey towards Me, the Goddess. The path will be painful and severe, as I demand suffering and tears in return for my tutelage and guidance. Bow and kiss the ground and thank me for this message” she included the address and what time I was to be there the following evening. Even though She would never know if I did it or not I found myself kneeling and then quickly kissed the ground and Said the words “Thank You Doamna”. I felt kind of stupid doing this there on my own, but I also had a massive stiff hard on, all I could think of was being allowed again to run my tongue over her shiny leather boots, my cock throbbed.

The next day passed in a blur, I took the afternoon off work and found myself parking my car around the corner from where She had instructed me to go. It was 7.55, I was told to be there at 8 o’ clock sharp. At 8 i walked up the pathway to Her door and rang the bell. No answer. I waited there for 5 minutes, then another 5, I thought maybe I had the wrong house. Just as I was turning to go I heard the unmistakable click clack of high heels walking on a wooden floor. I swallowed hard, did I really know that I was getting into, I started to sweat.

The door swung open and there She was, my Doamna, she wore a house coat but you could see underneath her wonderful attire, the classic femdom ensemble of thigh high boots and latex catsuit. She was a sight to behold. “Enter slave r” she said, an all knowing smile flashing across her beautiful face, her eyes burning into my soul. I had to avert my gaze. She closed the door quietly, took my face in her hand, raised my chin and said “what is it boy, you cannot even look at me in all my glory?” She laughed, “Now kneel, your head must be below mine at all times. Well good of you to show up but you had no choice really did you? You are a fly slowly entering my web by your own choice.” She let the house coat slip to the floor and turned to walk, I caught sight of a zip in the catsuit running from the front of her divine crotch right around and under her magnificent ass, I gulped again. “Pick up that house coat in your mouth slave and crawl down the corridor to my chambers, very good you will learn all my pet.”

I followed her as best I could, the corridors tiles although wooden were cold and hard and hurt my knees. We arrived at a large medieval looking metal door. She turned to me and said “Are you sure Slave r that you are ready to pass through this entrance gate? On doing so there is no going back , I am not forcing you, you enter by your own free will, but once inside you will be mine and manipulated and moulded into the male object I want You to be. You will be reborn, are you truly ready to suffer and cry real tears? for you must endure physical sacrifice to prove your devotion to me.” I was feverish now, and starting to tremble in anticipation and longing with the thought of serving this incredible woman. In an instant I pondered my fate, and in an instant I raised my face from below her and said “Dear Doamna, I beg You to allow me to cross this threshold and begin my journey into Your femdom universe. Everything else will cease to exist when in your presence, I beg for your guidance in showing me the true path to your ownership and ultimate rule over my being, please may I run my tongue over Your boot….? “

Mistress Ezada Sinn stood over me her hands on her hips, her eyes looking right through me, looking me up and down her thigh high boot 6 inches from me. She simply opened the door, walked through it and turned to face me, a slight smile playing across her beautiful Romanian face. Surely this woman was descended from Transylvanian royalty. I crawled across the entrance gate all the while gazing at Doamna, for I was bewitched, under her spell, her smile grew, and a cruel look entered her eyes, she slowly closed the door behind me. The start of my new life, my rebirth.

It was dark in the interior, with a red glow from some down lighting and the smell of scented candles. As my eyes grew accustomed to the light the first feature I noticed was a raised platform in the centre of the room, on this was a silver throne, fashioned after a medieval throne but silver and modern. It had silver hoops attached to the front and a seat that had a circular wooden hole in it. I gulped again and bowed my head.

“Now strip off naked boy” She ordered, her voice matter of fact but strict, “I want to inspect the goods”. I quickly stripped down to my underpants, discarded my clothes to the side and looked down at the floor, all the while I could feel Her eyes observing me, it was humiliating stripping like as if in a prison in front of another person, especially a beautiful haughty Goddess. She walked around me slowly, her hands on her hips, Her high heels clicking on the stone floor, circling Her newly acquired property. I was but a chattel now, some goods bought at auction for Her to do with as She pleased. My face burned red with embarrassment but my cock throbbed and lurched in my pants of its own free will. She laughed, “oh You silly boy” She tutted tutted, and then harshly “I said strip, take off your underpants as well so I can see all of the goods, do it NOW”! I quickly removed my pants and knelt before Her for inspection. “Hmm, not a bad body”She said almost to herself as if I wasn’t there, “cock isn’t a bad size, 6 and a half inches, but it will be mostly caged anyway, balls aren’t bad, big enough for my crop, clothes pegs, or whatever weights I attach”. She circled me again and then suddenly grabbed my head and forced my head back “open your slave mouth, I want to inspect your mouth and teeth, just like a farmyard animal ha ha”, she cruelly laughed as she forced her gloved hands into my mouth prised it open and inspected my teeth. I felt violated but still my cock ached and twitched. “Yes not bad slave, but now I want to see your other hole, your ass, it belongs to me now so bend over and spread those ass cheeks”. I did as She commanded and bent over both my hands spreading my cheeks wide so She could inspect my asshole. I felt utterly humiliated by now, also confused but also wildly aroused. I was bent over submissively being inspected by this amazing otherworldly dominant Goddess who i had only met 3 days previously. She let her gloved hand tub off my nipples as she circled around to inspect me. “it looks very tight to me slave, an anal virgin no doubt, is that correct”? …”Yes Doamna, I stammered…”….. “What’s that boy? She said gleefully revelling in my humiliation”….”Yes I am an ass Virgin Doamna, nothing has been up there before”. “Ha, I love it, I will take great delight deflowering your tight little cherry asshole, I will spend a whole afternoon dedicated to it with many of my wonderful strap ons, you will learn to love being pegged by your Goddess, ok enough now to the business at hand”.

Mistress Ezada said nothing but simply grabbed me gently by the hair and walked past me, I crawled behind, the tug on my hair jolting me back to reality. She took her rightful place upon her throne, crossed her legs and simply pointed at her booted heel. The instruction was simple, I leaned forward and ran my slave tongue over her leather boot, the taste of leather and dirt from the floor was exhilarating, I had dreamed of this moment the past few days and could feel myself entering a trance like state. I heard from above a beautifully husky voice command ” do it properly, take the heel in your mouth and suck it” her voice was sterner now, the demand more forceful.

It was time to be properly initiated into slavehood. Maybe a few years later I would be branded with her initials as a sign of her ownership of me? but now the bond that would tie us together would be that of a collar around my neck. This would symbolise that I was owned by Her, and when wearing it i was merely her dog on a leash. She did not say this but I instinctively knew that She now wanted to place her collar around my servile neck. She reached for the collar from the arm of the throne and now uncrossing her legs she placed the collar in her lap, She simply pointed at it, no words were needed. As I reached forward I heard again her sexy foreign accent “Hmm, no not yet, lets savour the moment for it is a very special and sacred one, down and lick my boots again, this time from the bottom to the top of my thigh boots, quick long strokes with your filthy slave tongue.” I spent a long time licking her boots and mouthing her heels, then she ordered me to slowly with tiny kisses cover every inch of her thigh high boots. I could feel my Doamna restlessly shift her ass occasionally above me and knew she was getting very aroused by my servile display, her mere property kneeling before her worshipping her boots, what power She must have felt. As I occasionally licked near the top of her thigh highs I could detect the sweet aroma of her pussy though her catsuit, this drove me wild and made me lick the leather more vigously. She toyed and played with me like this for about 30 minutes, my slave tongue ached. Finally She said “it is time”. She again reached for the collar and laid it in her lap. I placed my face on her lap the collar open beneath my neck. In that moment I felt an odd maternal feeling emanating from my Doamna and was again almost a little boy seeking guidance and reassurance from the eternal universal feminine figure. Doamna said these words “slave r, are you ready to receive your slave collar and wear it well? It is my symbol of ownership over You, Once accepted You are physically and spiritually bound to me forever throughout the ages. Even if I dismiss You at a later date You will still be mine in your own mind, are you ready to accept this and all it might entail? You will suffer real pain and tears in exchange for my guidance and training of your mind and body”.,there was a lull and silence as the true significance of her words echoed around the room. I was almost in a trance, I managed to blurt out “Yes Doamna, I accept my place beneath you as your slave and properly, it was fated to be, I was born to serve You and although not knowing it my whole life so far has merely been a journey leading me to this point where I now bow down before You to enter the new light. Yes please Doamna, collar me and own me, take me as your slave and follower”. With this I heard a click as the collar was closed about my neck. Doamna again raised my chin so my face looked up to hers, she said. “Now slave r, gaze upon the face of your new high Priestess and owner, I expect great things from You, you are lucky to be chosen from so many. Over the coming months you will be trained and tested to your limit, if You overcome these hurdles and move closer to me in understanding as the Goddess, and I have judged you to have cried enough tears and endured enough physical pain the rewards are ecstatic and limitless both physically and mentally” with that she attached a leash to my new collar and tethered me to one of the rings on the side of the throne. She rose and walked over to a cabinet built into the wall I had not noticed. She opened the doors, inside was a vast array of whips, canes, floggers, butt plugs, dildoes and strap ons in varying sizes and colour, and many other gizmos and instruments I could only wonder what their purpose served, i gulped again, real fear now engulfing me. She selected a crop and turned to face me hands on both hips a cruel smile crossing her lips, her heels clicked across the cold stone floor as she approached me. I bowed my slave face to the floor…