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Sado-Erotic Adventures with Madam Ashe Jordan

At the beginning of our call, I want you to tell me briefly what kind of conversation you're looking for, and what you hope to get out of it. I am not a cookie-cutter Domme, nor do I treat my callers as though they are cookie-cutter subs or fetishists. We are unique; that's what makes each call engaging and interesting. Do NOTE that my conversations involve various aspects of BDSM and POWER EXCHANGE, from sensual to intense.

I enjoy five types of conversations: one, we talk about your fantasy, two, we role play and reenact your fantasy, three, I direct you to do things to yourself in guided self-play, four, casual straight-time chat, five, intuitive counseling and education for the curious—or a combination of them all.

I also highly recommend that you send me a NF email, by way of introduction.

My Interests Run the Gamut from Hard Core to The Softer Edges:

Hypno-erotic journeys (see my other listing)
Powerful bondage Sensual—inescapable
Spanking (see my other listing)
Sounds and other forms of penetration
Face slapping
Humiliation and humility training
Humiliation for the genitally challenged (a ruler may be incorporated)
Forced bisexuality
Bitch training
Gay sex
Feminization from simple—transformational
Gender play

Check out my two other profiles: HypnoDomme Ashe Jordan and Ms. Ashe Jordan for sensual spankings, strapping, caning, role-play and corporal punishment from sensual to intense.

Snippets: Then What Happens…?

Imagine…you: kneeling in my dungeon, elbows on the carpet, knees spread wide. Naked. Vulnerable. Waiting. The powerful smell of leather permeates your senses. The door opens. Trembling now, you break out in a light sheen of sweat. You sense movement; soft footfalls behind you. Then—nothing. It crosses your feeble little mind that you're being stalked. Your junk hangs down between your legs, like ripe fruit. Finally, a hand grasps your balls. Firmly. A strong feminine voice says, "Move forward! These belong to me. I own them, and you.!" Your ball sack stretches as you strain forward. The hand continues to hold you, twisting a little, never letting go. The ache deepens, as you realize your predicament…Then what happens…?

You're in a restaurant with your date, a mysterious woman you've only just met. She's intrigued you from the start, with her aura of power, eyes that look through you. You have secrets and she is amusing herself by guessing each of them, one by one. Midway through dinner, she hands you a bag, and tells you to go into the restroom. You are to look inside, and do what comes naturally. Upon your return, she extends her hand. You give her the bag and inside she finds your briefs. "Very good choice," she smiles. Exposed and humiliated, you blush and squirm. She smirks, "Don't these pink panties feel so much more natural…?" The floodgates open, secrets spill out, and you know she is reading your mind. She sees you kneeling on the floor, full femme drag, while her transsexual friend stands in front of you, erect cock out…then what happens…?

My hot man sits tied to a chair, wearing red thigh high fishnets, red stilettos, red lipstick, heavy eye makeup. His genitals are trussed up. My girl enters the room, naked, wearing only high heels. I instruct her to tease him, show him no mercy, just short of release. Her hot breath, succulent mouth, leaves him gasping. I smile, pull her way, tie her to a chair opposite him, attach her ankles to bondage points. Her legs fan out in a perfect "V." She is shaved. The clothespins come out. She receives four on each side, and for each four, he receives the same. I put on a black latex glove. She looks up at me, her delicate Art Deco face pleading. My fingers enter her. I bend down to her mouth; kiss her deeply until the two of them are gasping. I'm in charge, and pondering what I might have them do to each other next. But there will be no release unless I give the word, and if I do, what a release it will be…then what happens…?

You are stretched out taut and tightly bound, ankles attached to the overhead spreader bar. You feel my collar, my ownership, hear me telling you I am going to take you down and use you—hard! You desperately want to give yourself to me. You know it won't be easy. But you don't want Easy, do you? Not really. Your ass is still on fire from the caning I gave you. You know I love it when I bring you to tears. Now the slow torture begins. You see the metal sounds gleaming in my hand, and my hot eyes gazing down on your nakedness…then what happens…?

Whiny bitch slumps self-consciously on the bar stool. He is sulky, petulant, has been trying to get up the nerve to come into this bar for months now. He's heard rumors about the place. Now he's here and being ignored. The waitresses, a powerful group of females, are all gathered around other customers, customers who look uber masculine and well heeled. Hoping to get a rise out of someone, whiny bitch is heard to say, "American women suck!" A passing waitress says, "Oh, sometimes…Everyone cracks up. He sinks lower in his seat.

At two a.m., the bar is closed for an after hours party. The waitresses are randy, ready to let off steam. Suddenly, the tallest of them grabs whiny bitch and another customer. Both are thrust into the middle of the room, and their pants yanked down around their ankles. At barely three inches, mortified, whiny bitch is half hard. The other guy measures a good nine inches. The laughter is deafening. One of the waitresses shouts, "Get out the ruler and let the games begin…"…then what happens…?

Boss Lady sits in her swivel chair crossing and uncrossing her legs. She wears a short, but well tailored business suit and tie. Though in shadow, what is under the skirt leaves nothing to the imagination. It's hard to tear your eyes away from that dark mystery. Her blonde hair is cut short and slicked back. Smoking a cigaret, she silently contemplates you, assessing you. Then she speaks, her voice low-pitched, smoky. "You are related to the position of office slave. Congratulations on your demotion. You're now everyone's bitch." You are shown the contract outlining your new duties. Of course, if you refuse to sign, you will be fired. Or…worse. She has a file of intimate photos of you (how did she get them?? She'll make you a starr…!), your social security number, credit card info, everything she needs to keep you how and where she wants you…then what happens…?

Yes, that is a smile on my face. Bow to me. Call me now. If I'm not available, send NF mail. I'll get back asap!