A Foodplay Session In Hong Kong
Hong Kong, March 2017.
I exchanged some messages with R., whom I thought was an expatriate, given his name. I was in no hurry to meet him, because after a correspondence of several days, I noticed that he was in great demand, and I did not want to deal with this type of submissive-dominant, or with someone listening to his own impulses at the expense of exchange. Nevertheless, I went there out of curiosity. I also showed no desire to participate in his outdoor play fantasy, not knowing yet this subject nor the limits that concern him.
We had an appointment on a Wednesday of March at tea time in a hotel in Central. On the menu of the session, some practices for which we shared the craze: golden shower, foodplay and possibly shaving. I did not shave him for a good reason: the rest of the session was enough for my amusement.
I was expecting to find an expatriate, but it was a young Asian man who opened the door to me. I do not know if he read the surprise on my face. He told me that he grew up in Canada, in Toronto, and then returned to HK. His 39 years seemed ten years younger. During a preliminary discussion, while the outdoor games returned in his remarks, I agreed in principle on an outdoor session, feeling his positive energy, thinking that it could be funny. It was concluded that we will be ready for this task when I will come back from GuangZhou a few days later. He seemed to hold on to it. The idea of playing outdoors seemed to excite him to the highest degree; I felt, however, that a certain fright animated him already, especially regarding the attitude of potential witnesses to our nonsense; according to him the conservatism of some Hong-Kong people may be overwhelming our games of perverse children and we could have serious trouble. He seemed to enjoy playing attack and defense in a friendly match between his passion and his reason. Realizing that I was not convinced, he repeated the risks, then his desire. I concluded that we could improvise once on the spot, without trying to achieve a series of practices that would only hinder the smooth running of the game, whose forbidden and risky character lends itself very well to this idea.
As expected for the foodplay session, R. had brought some small cupcakes to eat, or to be exact, to chew and spit on him. A banana, two parts of cakes and an ice cream.
I tied his hands in the back with my leather handcuffs, before throwing him on the bed unceremoniously. Straddling him, I began to tear his T-shirt brutally and to stuff in his mouth the pieces of tissue that accumulated in my fist. His face of an ephebe embellished with surprise and fright was superb to see, surprise despite the previous agreement that we had spent on the putting in piece of his clothes. I asked him if I could photograph him, which – a rare thing – was accepted without any publication, of course. It is funny to remember exactly that face and this moment, when I will soon lose my phone on the plane from Shanghai, and with it all the data of the previous days. The camera was of good quality, I really enjoyed some portraits and scenes of BDSM sessions taken on the spot.
I grabbed the pot of ice, dipped a first spoon and began to chew the pieces and spit them hard on his face, conscientiously. Once the face was well covered – the mouth, the nose and the eyes, not yet in the hair that he had otherwise quite beautiful – I dropped his pants on his knees with authority while he was still half lying down on the bed. This gesture that I usually perform during a session of discipline, corporal punishment, I like it here: I had the impression of being on the verge of sexually assaulting a very innocent young ephebe face… The BDSM allows to satisfy certain fantasies in a benevolent… setting, or simply to become aware of these buried inclinations. Once standing, my feet on either side of his chest, I spat and spread other pieces of ice on his plexus. The bed quickly resembled a turbulent child’s room, littered with torn clothes, crushed ice and soon lemon cake. I threw pieces of it on the ground, as I would have fed a wild dog, except that this dog had his hands tied behind his back, shreds of clothing sadly attached to certain parts of the body, which were already colored with ice. He did not seem happy to crawl on the floor, pants on his ankles.
I told him to crawl to the shower and lie on his back, while standing, I spread my legs above him. “Open your mouth and swallow!” He told me afterwards that it was the first time he had drunk in this way, which surprised me because of the ease with which he executed my order. I took more photos in the shower, I found him really beautiful, his jet black hair, his soft eyes and his hands, incredible ones: extremely fine, longer and more graceful than those of a woman, I should have photographed them but I let myself be caught by the pleasure of immortalizing this face that stared at me without flinching.
I then took advantage of this hazardous mixture of materials that littered the shower tray – in fact without delimitation with the rest of the bathroom, which accentuated the messy side – to grab the banana and crush pieces on his skin with my feet. Then I stuffed my toes in his mouth, which he swallowed and licked conscientiously. I did not know if I was dealing with a young slave captive of my perverted games, or with a loyal and obedient dog.
Time out of time, out of everything, as only the BDSM can set out: we then took the thread of our fantasies, our past experiences, while I was still standing above him, alternating the proximity of my toes in front of his face, which he licked with attention. I appreciated his perception of the BDSM: his first time was in Toronto, a friend had arranged to meet him in a BDSM bar. He did not know this last point. It was in fact an ambush: three to four women, probably used to the place or his friend’s acquaintances had tied him up and tore off his clothes until he was naked in front of them. To my question, he replied that he did not know at that moment if he liked that. It was once the action accomplished and « digested » that he wished to know again this kind of experience – and had to recognize that he was part of these « BDSM » players.
After his shower, I set up this little game that I sometimes like to add at the end of the session, with all the variations imaginable. In front of a square of toilet paper, on his knees, he had to cum respecting the stopwatch indicated by the dice that I kept then always in my bag: three exact minutes and not a drop out of the square of paper. I tied his frail, slender thumbs to make the task a little more difficult. After a minute, I could not restrain myself from bursting out laughing: his enjoyment had insolently snubbed the square of paper by several tens of centimeters. He seemed astonished and disappointed that he could not respect the constraints in spite of himself: he really believed that he had reached the right timing.
We decided to meet again for this famous outdoor session when I returned from GuangZhou. In the meantime, I lose my phone on the Shanghai plane, and with it all my contacts and especially my phone number. I never saw him again.
Mistress Euryale – International Dominatrix from Paris, based in Hong Kong
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Article republished from https://www.dominatrixdiary.com/articles/foodplaysession
Photos courtesy of Mistress Euryale
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