Fight me, toss, turn, love me, crave me. All I need to do is wear fetishy clothes and wet my hand. And you are totally mine. I command. You can't think but to obey. With a finger, I own you. So easily, it really makes me feel like a goddess. I leave you in a hump.

Some Sissy Maids think "cleaning" means wiping the floor for a half-hearted minute, as a session intro. That this is acceptable service.And it sure is, if you want to be compah-letely bitched out for the rest of your session with a sincere treatment.I program my maid to have a blank stare, blowjob lips, and take blackmail shots (real) and send them to friends, while a savage dicktie and vibrator combo makes him cry and I taunt relentlessly.

This scene went wrong. Started as a cute scene where the premise is I'm in control even when hogtied. But I shot it solo and couldn't get myself out in the end. Wasn't going to release it but my friends changed my mind. After all, I'm in an involuntary hog-cuffing. One friend called it the hottest handcuff clip on the planet. So here. Completely on purpose by accident. Guess it was a good thing I couldn't shut the camera off. In the end I just waited for help. And learned a life lesson.

Mandy Marx prefers her Christmas presents to stay wrapped. Unreleased mummification exposed cock torture

Boys? Careful. A more addictive two-girl chastity take-down you are unlikely to find. It's my theatrical friend Natalia!

A slave with a girlfriend (and a straitjacket fetish) has a choice and I'm in the mood to make it horrible.A) Her. A nice date, a relationship. Cooking and Netflix. Or B) A goddess you'll never have and always obey. Denial. Submission. You will suffer endlessly for my gain. Your dick's in my hand, your fate's in yours. Decide now.Not fair of me, I guess.

A brutal one-hour edging session. A real therapy. I demand which of your fetishes is most at your core and how you like to be treated, and you tell me because I'm holding your dick. I proceed to use your fetish immediately and you lose all equilibrium. Easy and fun. And you can't cum.

In a stunning turn of session, I take my boy, who is into hard slapping, painful stroking, squeezing and trampling, and tell him I am NOT here to meet HIS demands. That I will be gentle. That I am a KIND person. I will not be his PRICKLY BITCH...While slapping, squeezing, hitting, and stroking him until that THING is bright, bright fucking red. The second half of this in particular is frothy and serious.This is called irony. This is a mind fuck. This is beyond what most are capable of. Sharp as anything you've seen me do.

Mixing real life with a session, I tease my new virgin slave boy before I go out with the girls on a Friday. Stroked to the edge, but that's not frustrating enough. I wrap a vibrator around the head of his cock and let him tease himself awhile. Alone. On/off. Begging in an empty room. One of my girlfriends will be by to let you out. Bye!

Want a total immobilized chastity session tease that is better than your worst imagination. I’m in your head so bad, about your state, your fetish, your desire. I’ll have you crying. And I love to be here. Don’t miss

Always fascinated by electric play. Both ways. Today we take a very stuck boy who's not really into electric play (or says he isn't) and I shock all the brain cells out of him. I am not joking, no pulling punches. Levels are high and he can't stop me. His real-extended-prisoner request requires enduring this scene.

Every good superhero wants to help a damsel in distress. But Mandy Marx is too good at tricking weak boys and the tables have turned. Poor Captain America is officially under Hela's control.

Relentlessly training a "Thank You Mistress" out of my slave after each edging, raunchy stroke tease. The pitch of this scene rises to feverish, with each desperate "Thank You," until I need to slow down so I don't get too distracted, even myself. Highlights of a crazy edging session, filled with eternal gratitude.

There's nothing like the spiked device. No dignity, no defense, just sheer punishment when I walk in the room. And I'm about to do more than walk in the room. How badly you'll suffer, how deep my device will dig. With just a scent. A feather. A silicone-lubed grip. Even a horrible stroke? Wouldn't I? Worse yet, the full sight of my absolutely perfect ass. What's your name, boy? Can't you speak?

I hold my warm hand perfectly still around your cock and make you stroke yourself with your hips. Then, I rope your cock tight, stick the rope end in your mouth, and make you hump yourself in the air, while spit slowly drips from my mouth onto your wet, roped dick. And you can't touch me unless I let you. And then, I do. Shocking you. I let you touch my pussy and try to get me off. And you're not going anywhere, anytime soon, this is the middle of an isolation day for you. Promise.

All this mindfuckery has to end sometime, right. Even I can't sustain it forever? What if I want to just reward you for your chastity service, soldier. And let you get off with a heavenly, mind numbingly hot, pure handjob where I talk about what you want, (even locking you back up) and let you touch where you want. My poor, sweet fetish boys.

So long, he's broken. Broken by society, re-shattered by Dr. Marx. Fetish sparks in the institutional air. A boy discovers he is, in fact, desperate for this scene. He goes nowhere. He really is fucked. It's not a hospital, but it feels like one. A crazy one. Sticky, mouth, transparent, tape, gags, blinded, disoriented. Could this really be just a session? Anger. Denial. Depression. Acceptance? A porn scene you'll be watching in awe, minute by minute,but don't you usually fast forward or skip around through scenes? One liners. Feedback and perception. You need this one. You all do. You're in the hands of a goddess-level practitioner.

Make your requests, session boy, but you get what I decide to give. Will it be a forced-eye-contact tease with my boot pushing you down that simply alters your definition of what you want forever, counting you down to a ruined no-hands cum mindfuck that leaves you tweaking? How truly little say you truly have. That is control. And that's what the deepest part of you needs anyway. While the deepest part of me? She loves that look of surprised dismay on your face when you realize how little you can do about what I'm doing.