Mistress Dalisay

John Willie, was an artist, fetish photographer, cartoonist, and the publisher and editor of the first 20 issues of the fetish magazine Bizarre. Publishing varied between 1946-1959, ceasing during WWII. “Bizarre is for those who have the courage of their own convictions” - John Willie It does take courage to submit oneself to the taboo. However, with all this judgement, wouldn’t you want to break free from it anyways? And this side of the spectrum is so much more sweeter and rewarding than that of the norm. Listed below is Vol. I of Bizarre. Featuring topics such as bondage, amputee fetishism, sadomasochism, transvestism, body modification, and much more! https://archive.org/details/completereprinto0000will/mode/1up

I don’t need soft background noise. I need sound that stalks, growls, demands. These five tracks pulse with chaos, seduction, and dominion—each one chosen to strip the polish off your composure, until you’re left twitching beneath me. ————————————————————— 1) Night of the Vampire ~ Roky Erickson 2) Keep Your Eyes Peeled ~ Queens of the Stone Age 3) She's My Witch ~ Kip Tyler 4) Show Me How to Live ~ Audioslave 5) Chewing Gum ~ Amyl and the Sniffers ————————————————————— Comment below what you would put in your soundtrack. Tell me what influenced your choice; What do you envision? Roleplaying? What’s the aesthetic? Maybe you can see specifics such as toys or punishments? I want to hear your fantasy.

Your nastiness will only earn you punishment

I was scrolling for some inspiration online and I came across this poem and it made me giggle 🤭

Maybe they like the feeling of themselves slick and wet

I came across this picture and it reminded me of you.

Choose wisely and tell us your reason. What memory sealed the deal?

You can borrow mine lol

I guess I’ll just have to stay in your dreams

Actually…that’s a great idea. This is definitely something I’m going to be working on.

What a great ending, Ford. I wouldn’t have it any other way 😌

You are given the task to linger among humans. Heaven only has one question, “Are they salvageable?”…who knows. Why question it? There hasn't been a reason to think otherwise. So you go find a reason, ending up in a crowded nightclub, locking eyes with another. ”Well isn’t it a lucky night for you.”, eyes locked. I beckon with my finger and you slyly make your way through the crowd. “I was looking for a bite.” How have you ended up standing in a dim room blindfolded, naked, ankle and wrists shackled to the floor? Let’s call it my magic. Sensing me close; “I will savor every moment of this.”, I whisper in your ear unexpectedly. Suddenly wings spring from your back. Both of us standing frozen. “Are you cruel?”, the question cuts me like a knife. How do I respond to an angel in my captivity? I’ve already come so far so should I really have any regrets? “What do you think?”; actions speak louder than words so I use force. Kicking you down to your knee, I lay your head nicely under my foot and let all Hell break loose for my little angel.

Has anyone heard about this place? Torture Mansion in Huntsville, Alabama. Would you be able to endure life-altering torture for a hefty sum of $20,000? For some of you thrill seekers out there, this may just seem like a one of a lifetime experience to understand what it’s like to be violated beyond comprehension…I’d keep you in my prayers. https://www.mckameymanor.com

I’m staring at you from across the room. You linger by the mirror but unable to look at yourself. ”Take off your shirt.”, I stare, hungry. The sight of your reflection makes me go feral; that scared look in your eyes as you slowly unbutton your shirt. Plastering a smile straight across my face. ”Today’s the 27th. Now why don’t we just give everyone a little reminder.” I make my way towards you with a sleek white candle and lighter. Pushing your face into your reflection as I bend you over; Your resistance is weak as I peer into your eyes. Lighting the end of the wick, waiting in anticipation for that one drop to fall. One finally landing on your skin and then another. With each drip an expression of sweet agony paints your face. “27. Nothing of importance, just like you. It just serves as a reminder that I can do whatever I want to you.”, I blow out my candle and set it down. Admiring my work from afar. Smirking, I make my way to the door and leave you reeling back to reality.