The Journal of Lady Auch

Equipment

2009-01-23T13:24:00.003Z

I've just been trying out a new toy on my beloved, a delightfully sturdy old press, that I used to hold his wrists down while I had my way with him. It made me want to construct an elaborate restraint system, like something out of a B-Movie, the old metal and leather pinning him with the weight of time and tradition.

Gloves on

2009-01-08T16:08:00.000Z

So the New Year is upon me, and I realise I seem to only manage to write here twice a year. I feel angry at myself but vow to come out fighting

To Return Again

2008-07-04T14:13:00.004+01:00

The time for me to return home has come again, it has never been far from my mind of course: during my travels I have corresponded frequently with sweet Marisa to assure that all is well and to make those decisions required from the owner. However, there is a particular thrill to entering my empire once more, all that was overly familiar has become fresh again, the dancers are all more beautiful and dashing, the customers more friendly and generous.

The staff had arranged a small party to celebrate the occasion, they really are priceless darlings! In the after-hours they set up stalls, each with a different joy to taste: a voluptuously hypnotic fortune-teller who would make her future come true; a beautiful boy, standing martyr-like as thrown leather rings trapped him; three naked and bound girls on stools, wriggling deliciously as rubber balls were thrown at them - a fairground of perverse delights.

My beloved excused himself as I laughed with Marisa, and after a while she led me to a mysterious curtained tent set up in the far corner of the room. "This one's just for you" she smiled and went back into the room to check proceedings. Pleasantly intrigued, I parted the fabric and walked inside. My darling boy was still wearing his costume, only now the rings in the cuffs had been used to chain him to a sturdy flogging frame, his arms spread wide above his head, and his feet symmetrically below. A table was laid out with canes, lashes and other thrilling tools of pain.

His eyes were wide with desire "Welcome back, my lady," he whispered, and I smiled hungrily as I selected something light to start with. I was home.

Lady in Furs

2007-12-22T23:59:00.000Z

There's something about winter that brings out the Wanda in us all, who doesn't long for the luxurious sensuality of fur to add an aristocratic cruelty to proceedings. Now of course I'm furiously against animals being killed for their pelts, but I was left a full length mink by my Grandmother, that I do pull out for my guilty pleasures.

The shame adds a certain frisson as I lie in front of the fire, naked apart from the coat, stroking my hands underneath it. I feel strong, invulnerable in the ancient animal. Sometimes my beloved watches me, it amuses me to have him naked and collared, crawling like a dog, while my hide makes me more dominant, like his Alpha.

I bare my teeth, the fur falling away from my slippery body, I rub it over my breasts, my sex. It becomes soaked with my musk, as I stroke it into me I can't tell where it ends and my own pelt begins.

He whimpers and I howl.

The Night Before All Hallows...

2007-10-31T23:58:00.000Z

I find it a little hackneyed that there is a huge influx of dabblers into our little club at this time of year, but I'm not one to turn away potential converts, and it was lovely to see the effort they had put in.

Of course, the real fun started at midnight, when the members only party opened in the Black Chamber. It was not much more astonishing than our usual gatherings, but Halloween does bring the beast out somewhat.

I took a back seat for most of the evening in case I was needed out front, so Kitty was chosen as Mistress of Ceremonies this year. She looked simply marvellous, like a Dominatrix Louise Brooks, and strode around the room searching for the most inventive combinations for the small stage.

The boys were all straining their pants for her personal attentions, but instead she set up tableaux from gorgeous nightmares, whispering instructions then stepping off to watch.

One that I caught was Theresa as an exquisite Vampire, enthralling a clutch of beautiful young ladies and gentlemen. They acted their parts so well, I wondered if she did have some power over them, as they helplessly stripped and knelt for her to take their necks. She stroked them delicately, gazing into their eyes as she heightened the tension, and their moans when the bite came were like perfectly controlled orgasms.

There were Catgirls whipping Superheroines, Melodrama Villains tying up Robotboys, all sorts of sexy Ghouls and Zombies and Monsters in unusual combinations.

When all possibilities had been exhausted Kitty finally took the stage herself, and a hush fell. She started speaking in a velvety stream, it became almost an incantation, and suddenly I found myself onstage. I should have been shocked, protested that I couldn't do this, frankly I would normally have turned her around and spanked her silly, but I didn't. I stood there meekly as she smiled malevolently at me.

In a dream, I floated into position at her wordless commands, forgetting all the others around me. I lazily undressed to my underwear, allowed my hands to be pulled above my head and cuffed to a chain hanging down. I felt serene and dreadfully aroused at the same time as my world narrowed to the sensations she inflicted on me.

First I was teased with peacock feathers, an exotic torture that made me wriggle and groan, particularly when my private parts were stroked. Then her nails raked my skin in hypnotic patterns, as if she was drawing runes on me to bind my will further. Finally she brought out a selection of intricately carved crops and started with light stings on my feet and hands, working her way onto precise beating of my more sensitive areas, leaving only my sex and face untouched. Through it all I submitted gracefully, each stroke branding my with mysterious sigils that seemed to sink into my mind as much as my body.

When I was completely exhausted, hanging from sore wrists, and with tears drying on my face, she gazed once more into my eyes, her wide pupils the only sign of her own excitement. "Almost done," she whispered, and held her hand millimetres away from my heated mound. We breathed together heavily for a while, then I felt the breeze of her hand being taken away rapidly, then returning with force. I screamed and came violently, shuddering out the last of my consciousness in grateful tribute to the surprising events of the night.

I came to, fully clothed where I had been at the start of the act. Confused I looked around me and saw that everyone else had the same expression as I. The woman next to me blushed and rushed from the room, and I realised that somehow we had all believed we were at the centre of this little drama. I glanced Kitty's way, and she winked at me prettily, with pupils as wide as I had envisioned in my trance. I was incredibly impressed and vowed to give the spellbinding darling a bonus.

This hurts me...

2007-10-16T16:20:00.000+01:00

I have been frightfully busy with work recently, and neglecting my beloved in a most inexcusable way. Of course, he has not usually complained, serving me as graciously as ever. However last night, as I was going through my papers in my rooms with him kneeling naked beside me, I heard him utter a distinct sigh of boredom.

I simply could not let this pass.

"Did you have something to say, my darling?" my voice was as icy-sweet as fresh Glacé.

He shivered deliciously. "N-no, my lady."

I smiled inside, I have not heard him use the title for weeks, and had almost forgotten how it tickled my pleasure, despite its melodramatic nature.

"Angel," I sigh, "I'm afraid I can tell when you are lying to me." He was the very picture of contrition and restrained fear and I knew my bookkeeping was over for the night. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you," I ordered in a calm but stern voice and was rewarded with his most submissive gaze.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, resigned to his fate.

I gave him instructions as if speaking to a naughty child. "Go and lie down on the bed, face down. Put your arms above your head. Do not make a noise." He hurried to obey, apparently highly excited by what was to come. I would have to be careful to take him to the point where he learnt his lesson, or he would be slighting me all the time to get the stimulation he craved!

I knelt across him, binding his arms to the headboard. He was struggling to be able to breathe with his face in the pillows already, so I gently pushed him down even more. He wriggled in a maddening way against my damp groin, and I leant down to hiss into his ear, "do not, ever, express boredom at being allowed to serve me, in whatever way I choose."

Charmingly, he used some of his diminishing breath to mumble "no, my lady." I relented a little and moved the pillows underneath his his chest. His gasps of relief became more panic ridden as he heard me open the trunk.

"I'm afraid it really has to be the whip tonight, beloved."

Moving day

2007-09-18T22:57:00.001+01:00

So my sweets, I've finally moved rooms, and I must say it feels more spacious and liberating already. I spent the last few days decorating things to my tastes, and now I can relax, reposing on my vast bed, and observe my new kingdom.

Literary Discipline

2007-08-30T01:30:00.000+01:00

Gosh, what a summer full of delights overseas, yet so glad to be on safe ground again. Met up with some of my little darlings, who had ALL forgotten their literary duties while I was gone.

Some discipline is undoubtedly in order.

However, darling Influence has at least made an attempt with her charming journal of her innermost thoughts and desires. I shall have to keep close watch lest she forgets her readers.

Do go and read more here

Deepest Contrition

2007-02-24T11:40:00.001Z

My darling,

I can only apologise from the depths of my soul for my prolonged absence. I have been engaged in pursuits so dark and fearsome I cannot even hint at them here, suffice it to say I cannot promise my journaling will be regular, but I am in a lighter place and more free to share my heart with you, my sweet, my heart.

The Vanishing Lady

2006-10-21T23:01:00.000+01:00

My great friend Magister graced us with his act this evening, all manner of miraculous illusions. Now, I'm sure you're familiar with the tricks our prestidigitator friends use to fool the gullible, but I can assure you from my vantage in the wings that this Master has some kind of power, even if it only be over the minds of those in his presence.

He mesmerised the audience as effectively as he entranced his group of beauties, which he used as pretty tools for his art, making them freeze, float and vanish. I saw no glass, no wires or trapdoors, it was as if they (and we) believed in his abilities so strongly, the laws of nature bent before him.

After the show, we talked the night away with his assistants in my rooms He continued exerting little pulls upon their wills from time to time, and I even found myself slipping under his sway before I shook myself awake. He smiled in amusement, but is too good a friend to take advantage of my momentary weakness (as far as I know!).

Instead he was kind enough to let me into a few of his secrets, and I was thrilled to be able to place his ladies in a deep slumber with just a word. We asked them carefully what they would allow to happen, after all we're not monsters, then entered into sweet dreamlike debauchery. I surprised myself in how thoroughly I enjoyed manipulating their somnambulant forms to pleasure them from their fantasies, even as much as my own ecstasy was conjured by their mindless prestidigitation.

Dancers

2006-10-03T15:43:00.000+01:00

I rarely pay attention to my dancers when they are doing their jobs properly, but last night I strove to enjoy them as if I was a customer. Marisa was managing things very well - it's such a delight to be able to trust your staff - so I socialised and watched the stage avidly.

I pride myself that our establishment provides more than some tawdry strip show. I wouldn't even call it burlesque, although some might disagree. My girls and boys have a special talent, each one different, but at heart the same. You have to watch them. They may do something spectacular, or just move skillfully, but they capture your attention and haunt your dreams.

For example, Violette is a snake dancer, now this may conjure ideas of a coy blonde waving around a dopey python suggestively. This is not Violette. She becomes a creature with her horde. She slithers in reptile seduction, no longer human. She is drowned in her pets, hypnotised by them, and suddenly possessed as if they had all crawled inside her she rises like a great serpent queen to be worshipped.

Ladies in chains

2006-09-23T20:44:00.000+01:00

I was invited to a most fascinating soiree by my friend Annette, and knowing her Sapphic interests, I was not expecting this to be an evening graced with male attention, but I was ill-prepared for the strange scenario before me.

Amongst the finely attired society ladies, were numerous scantily clad beauties (although some tended towards the plain) whose necks, wrists and ankles were encircled with metal bands. Some even had chains to add to their wanton prisoner guise.

I hasten to add, they did not seem coerced into this unseemly costume, although some did appear slightly nervous at the attention, or cool lack of it, that they were receiving.

Annette laughed gaily at my consternation, "Surely you're not a stranger to such affairs, Chère Auch? Not in your line of work, and with your proclivities?"

I composed myself, and smiled prettily back. "Why no, my dear, of course I know many who desire to be slaves, and those who would own them, I have just never seen such a matter-of-fact way of going about it!"

"Well you'll find we ladies are altogether more sensible about things." Her eyes glittered, "would you like to wear some chains tonight, ma chérie?

If I had not known she was teasing me, I would have been most offended, but I brushed it off easily, patted her arm and said "they do not suit me dearest, but what is the protocol for this evening? I do not want to offend by claiming a girl who is not for attention."

She seemed pleased that I was going to join in with her game, and explained that those with initials on their collars were personal pets, the rest just ladies who had consented to be freely available for the evening. She did warn me to listen for a certain phrase that would tell me if someone wanted to draw the line, and I reassured her I would be gracious.

Now all that remained was to find a female who would appeal to my less-practiced lesbian side.

The Jackal

2006-09-19T23:34:00.000+01:00

I'd been working terribly hard all night, chivvying the girls to sparkle and amuse, with no regard for my own health, when I caught sight of an unmistakable silhouette. I caught my breath, heart pounding like a schoolgirl's. My terror, The Jackal, had returned!

He glided over to me, as if the world made way for him, and graced me with his charming bow.

"My delight, how fortunate you are here!" he murmured in a voice that slid into my ears like warmed honey.

I blushed, composure awry, "and how charming to see you again, Monsieur, it's been such a long time."

He stayed by my side the rest of the evening, I knew I was letting him seduce me, and my heart would be bruised in the morning, but I could never resist him. His stare is compelling as a vampire's, his voice as smooth as oil.

I could not demur when he invited himself to my rooms, although I knew I would be used horribly. Now do not judge me, sweet friend, no man or woman is immune to his power, and I, even I, have a secret desire to surrender to one so overwhelming.

A rest is as good as a change

2006-09-10T23:22:00.000+01:00

Returned from a tepid holiday to find the business in tatters, half the staff were ill with some spiritual malaise and the performers were lacklustre at best.

I rallied the raggletail team with a stern talking to, sweet entreatments and the threat of the whip.

Needless to say, they were all smart as fresh mares this evening, sparkle of eye, pert of bottom and wanton of mouth.

Frankly, I love this place so much, I don't know why I ever go away.

Secret Rituals in Dark Places

2006-08-11T11:50:00.000+01:00

I was invited to attend a very hush-hush event at a Gentleman's Club one of my male acquaintances is a member of, and delighted by the intrigue I accepted. I was signed in with much ceremony and sworn to secrecy of what I would see, on pain of a terrible curse should I blabber.

I am not a superstitios woman, yet their manner and dark looks makes me hesitate to reveal the details of the ceremony, however I can divulge that it was an initiation ritual of the most strange and numinous variety, where various young fellows became part of an esoteric cult, the purpose of which I could not even guess at.

There was a fabulous party after this, and I danced well into the night with many dashing chaps, as well as engaging in the most delightful conversations with all sorts of intelligent ladies. As I rode home at sunrise, the pains in my feet and throat only served to remind me to seize life in all its effulgence with vigour and determination.

Can't they invent a mechanical device for this?

2006-08-10T14:28:00.000+01:00

Woke this morning in a terrible fug, plagued by wisps of nightmares of chase and subterfuge. The sky is overcast and fitfully spits rain down the window as if it is besmirching me with the dregs of it's stomach.

I have to tackle mounds of paperwork, and my constitution is not designed for such tasks, particularly not in the daylight hours. Repeatedly I curse my ancestors, whose lack of foresight doomed me to such menial labour.

The trials of glamour

2006-08-09T20:13:00.000+01:00

I received an invitation to an afternoon Salon at my dear aquaintances house, which I of course wanted to look smashing for. I dressed myself carefully, spending plenty of time putting up my hair and choosing the right earrings.

Unfortunately, by the time my dreary carriage driver had found the place, all the other guests were leaving and I felt it would be impolite to impose myself upon the household.

I returned home to console myself with a bottle of chilled sherry, satisfied that I was the greatest work of art of the evening, despite having no audience for my pains.

The horror of my face in the glass

2006-08-08T22:16:00.000+01:00

My beloved went away today on a business trip to Europe.

I traipsed around the apartment, unable to think clearly or find anything to occupy myself with. I came to after a while, realising that I was regarding my features obsessively in a mirror, seeing if this was a face that he would return to.

Peep Show

2006-08-06T23:53:00.000+01:00

Spent an absolutely charming day with a photographer friend, who was trying out a new contraption. I spoke to the delightful young ladies he was immortalising and they were terribly sweet, seeming unconcerned about the effect their flesh would provoke on some people. If truth be told, I was a little jealous of their camaraderie and wildness, it reminded me of my youth with Elodie...

Lady Auch

2006-08-01T20:30:00.000+01:00

Welcome visitor, I hope you enjoy your stay in my world. It is so hard to describe oneself when you don't have a clear idea of your audience - if we were face-to-face half my work would be done. I would flirt, seduce and before the night was out you'd have all you needed to know about me. Ah well, I must make the attempt.

I run a small club in a city in the UK, it's a little out of the way, but has a loyal clientelle, largely because of the extraordinary acts and members-only parties. I feel I must point out that neither I nor my employees are whores: our entertainment is erotic, not pornographic; our company earned, not paid for. Equally, I am not a true aristocrat, my name is a nom-de-plume (a reference to my favourite author). I certainly don't expect anyone to call me it as an honorific, but of course you may if you like the sound.

I have a beloved who submits his all to me, but is free to come and go when I have no need of his charms. He is bright and beautiful, and I try with all my heart not to betray his service with capricious demands. Of course we have other playmates, but when I am worn out from glitter and champagne, it is his soft eyes I gaze into.

Some tell me I'm in love with the past, but on the contrary, I am in love with now, with the sweet bite of fresh experience. True, I may filter things through an over-active imagination, use somewhat flowery language, but after all, doesn't a little poetry make truth shine all the more brightly?