SM Journal

“If someone comes to you with body dysmorphia, they will leave with narcissism.” A masochist of mine said it as a joke, but they meant it, and since then it has stayed with me.

Heavy Mummification is the art of slowly removing all senses and all possibilities, one layer at a time. No choices. No reactions. Away with the noise, the chaos in the head, the restless hum of identity. Only existence; a silent piece of art in the caring hands that create it.

Some people carry their identity like a weight. Too many thoughts, too many roles to play in life, too much noise in the head. "Caring dehumanization" means giving them permission to drop all of it.

He showed up chasing the fantasy: punishment and discipline under the strickt HeadMaster.

There’s power in the mummification ritual: wrapping my submissive in bandages—especially around the face—transforming them into a gentle cocoon. Bandages are soft; they let the skin breathe, allow some freedom of movement, and heighten sensation. Perfect for teasing, of course. I like to use coluorful ones. Sometimes I crave something more extreme. The unforgiving, and often sweaty: Japanese-style encasement. Multiple layers of various materials, each one with its own purpose

Mistress Chiaki's shibari is smooth, never rushed, yet she is incredibly accurate and fast. I think that's because before surrender, there must be stillness. Before fantasy, quiet. And that is where domination begins. The restless ones, the ADHD kinky people of London, have an unstopable need to move, to do, to reach, to think. Restraint alone isn't enough; they need to be contained. Pacing, distance, compression, scent, lights, touch, the constant observation of every subtle

Choosing the right chastity cage is not a negligible task. Here are some of the most well known alternatives.

Despite the cliché, nobody really wants true, uncaring darkness. The cold authority, the cruel scenarios, those are just the theatre of BDSM

I adore when straight men dream of being the girl in the gangbang,bound, taken, devoured. They may never admit it, but true submission is al

He asked to be queer art—nothing but color, rope, and flesh. I transformed him, erasing the self, leaving only vision

Men in ropes... This one was a truly remarkable subjects for sculpting. There is exquisite effort in shaping the ropes to complement the masculine form, with each line meticulously placed to trace the angles of his body. The ropes deliberately follow the natural hardness of his chest, the sharpness of his shoulders, and the deep curve of his waist, accentuating the firm muscles beneath. Every strand, pulled taut, sculpts the body emphasizing the raw beauty of muscle and bone

I could finally embody Mr. Ishioka, a character who fascinated me with his unique blend of degrading sadism and kind, empowering words.