Victoria Cayne

When Fantasies become Reality

Another testimonial from a dear toy. I count myself among the extremely lucky that W/we’ve been able to connect many times…

How did I ever become so fortunate, so late in life?
What did I ever do to deserve that my fantasies would become reality?

Meeting Miss Victoria Cayne raised these questions in my mind. She is, for me, a compass that leads me directly towards that ethereal land between dreams and awareness when I am in session with her. In fact, this sense of detachment from reality lasts quite a long time.

I will be going home on public transportation, and marveling at the impression that few others on the train have had a similar experience as I that day. My trembling legs and sense of awe at what she and I had just done. Miss Victoria Cayne is a must see when she is in Boston.

A must see is actually an understatement…. you must session with her to truly experience her talents and skills. She is adept and knowledgeable about her instruments. She is careful and thorough in her meticulous cleaning and I noticed the vacuum resealing of her toys and steel.

I don’t have a wealth of experience in this area of play and torment. However, I think Miss Victoria Cayne has to be among the hardest working woman of her peers. She doesn’t stop. She will be spanking me hard and then pull me in front of a full length mirror to show me a very red bottom. From there we may transition to a more fulfilling position where even more fantasies are made true, if you dare.

I wish I had dared to enter this “new” foreign way of expression and emotional release many years ago. I wish Miss Victoria Cayne would’ve spanked teenage bottom instead of the senior one that I offer to her. She is gracious though and doesn’t comment on the flatness of this old carcass. Seriously, she is too considerate to tease and offend.

Her beauty, her sexiness, her skills, her kindness. What more could one ask for in a Mistress and even in a person? She has brightened my life and for that I truly am grateful. Let her into yours. Value and treasure her.

Every session better than the last…

I very rarely am speechless but this toy’s writing is so incredible, I really don’t have much to say aside from having someone completely trust and surrender to Me is truly magical. 

Hi F/folks:

I’m not qualified to review a Domme of Mistress Victoria Cayne’s caliber, so this isn’t really a review. I feel tremendously fortunate to have met MVC and this is one way I have of saying thank you for some of the most amazing sessions I’ve ever had, and for her kindness toward me. Our first session was mind-blowing and I’ve been her client ever since. We took a year-long break during the pandemic before a vaccine became available, but we stayed in touch during that time. Once we were both fully vaccinated, I was fortunate to find myself kneeling at her feet again. This is an account of a session we had right before Christmas of last year. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks in advance for reading.

Mistress Victoria Cayne was dressed discreetly in a black hoodie, sneakers, and track pants. Her hood was pulled down over her head to cover her striking red hair and her soulful brown eyes flashed at me from above a black face mask. No one would have guessed she was a dominatrix unless they took a gander at her make-up which was several notches more provocative than that of your average jogger. It was a new hotel for us, a step down from what we’re accustomed to, but the city was booked solid during the week before Christmas. We spoke excitedly as the elevator made its way up the floors. Some kids who appeared to be just out of college were in the elevator with us, dressed in identical outfits to let the world know they were on the same marketing team. We continued talking after we entered the room. She gazed down at my sweatshirt.

“Block Island? Where’s that?” 

I began telling her it was a place I spent summer vacations when I was a boy, but she started pinching my nipples through the sweatshirt and it soon became impossible to speak. I grew tumescent in my jeans as she crushed my nipples between her thumb and forefinger; all the while whispering words of encouragement and urging me to take more for her. I melted. Right there and then, I became totally and completely hers.

Mistress told me to remove my clothes while she went to change. I stripped and waited for her, crouched on the floor in the downward-facing dog position. Mistress Victoria emerged transformed. Shimmering red hair swirled around a beautiful, oval face with alabaster skin, full, sensual lips, an aquiline nose, and flashing brown eyes. A sheer, semi-transparent, black top tried in vain to cover her lithe, tattooed, body. She wore nothing underneath but a black garter belt and tan, high-fashioned stockings. On her feet were patent leather, stiletto-heeled mules. She was truly a Goddess to behold—utterly breathtaking. I gazed up at her enchanted. 

“I remember you said something about stockings.” She smiled, pointing to her elegant feet in their shiny black mules.

I knelt and eagerly pressed my lips to her toes, moaning softly because it was all too much and I felt like she’d opened up the gates of paradise for me.


I knelt up, unsure what her command meant.

“I meant to kiss all the way up my stocking.” 

“Yes, Ma’am!” I replied with the eagerness of a puppy. I kissed from her toes all the way up her leg to the garter clasp, making little doggie noises because I was so incredibly turned on. When I’d finished worshiping her right leg, she pointed to her left and I continued my joyous task. Finally, she pointed to the bed. I lay spread eagle on it, while she tied me down slowly and sensually. MVC took her time planning and executing my bondage. Every knot felt like love as she pulled it tight. 

It’s very difficult to describe a session with Mistress Victoria Cayne in a linear fashion because I go into a sort of ecstatic fugue state when I play with her. She’s like a great jazz musician, pulling inspiration from the moment and using her many years of experience to transform a BDSM session into high art. I say I’m not really into bondage, but as she bound me to the bed like a meticulous spider, I groaned and whimpered with the tightening of every knot. The whisper of her fingertips over my skin was like the Ten Commandments coming down from on high. She took me into a different world. My whole body became a sensory receptor. I became pure id. A stockinged foot covered my nose and lips. She blindfolded me so I couldn’t see what she was doing. Gloved fingers drove me to the point of desperation as the conductive gel was sensually applied. Mistress attached the electrodes. The current was only a whisper at first. She brought it up very slowly.

“Do you feel anything yet?”

I didn’t at first. Then, suddenly, there it was. “Yes, Ma’am!” I called out like a child who’s just discovered an Easter egg.

“Good. Can you take more?”

“Oh, yes, Ma’am!”

She increased the current slowly until the peaks of the waves were almost painful but not quite. My senses were so heightened, the needles of electricity felt like another, more intense form of pleasure. Goddess continued working on me—tormenting my sore nipples, covering my face with her feet, and playing my body like a violin. It was sensory overload. I wondered how she was doing all of those things to me simultaneously. Was Mistress Victoria an alien with powerful psychic abilities and an extra set of hands to tease and torment me with? If so, I was dearly hoping she’d carry me off in her spaceship!

“This has nothing to do with your pleasure. It has everything to do with my control.”

Thank you, Goddess! I’m not worthy! 

“Sorry I’m making so much noise, Ma’am.” The sensations were so intense I couldn’t keep quiet. “I can’t help it.”

“I love it!” The little growl in her voice left no doubt as to her sincerity. Mistress Victoria Cayne was like a tigress with her prey. Utterly enslaved by her touch, I looked into her eyes and felt our connection lock. A powerful current seemed to flow between us; a pulsing wave of energy passing from her into me and back again in a perfect, closed circuit. I remember feeling like I’d come home—like after all my searching, trials, and tribulations, I’d finally found the Mistress I was born to serve. I told her how much I loved being her toy. I told her I felt safe with her, that I trusted her. 

Mistress Victoria graciously acknowledged her possession of me. “Yes, you’re mine.” She smiled down at me as I writhed in ecstasy at her touch. “You’re my toy and you belong to me completely.”

Sure, we both know nobody can ever really belong to anybody else. In fact, we discussed that very thing later that afternoon. In reality, we can only ever really belong to ourselves. But for those two hours, while I was her prisoner in Shangri-La and Mistress Victoria Cayne had her way with me, I belonged to her body and soul. 

After having her way with me on my back, Mistress flipped me over onto my stomach. I told her I felt like a grilled cheese sandwich and she laughed, re-imagining me as a panini. I luxuriated in the warm, sensual glow as she bound my arms and legs securely to the bed for a second time. Every knot felt like a kiss as she pulled them tight. Cool conductive gel was applied while I lay on the bed floating in a stoned haze of subbie anticipation. The electrodes went on and I felt the first whisper of current beginning to flow through my balls. She pushed it a little higher…

[Apologies, but in the interest of discretion and to appease the SESTA/FOSTA gods who have given us impossibly vague guidelines to follow, I must draw an opaque curtain over my session account here. Everything that happened fell within the boundaries of safe, sane, consensual BDSM play, but the gods are capricious and I’d rather be safe than sorry.]

I lay on my back trying to catch my breath for what seemed like a long time. I felt reborn. I still do, sitting here and typing these words with my sore nipples. When our time together was over, I brought Mistress Victoria’s bags downstairs to her waiting car. We exchanged a warm hug and said our goodbyes. Climbing into the driver’s seat, she said she was looking forward to next time. 

“Me too!” I turned to look at her as I was walking away. “With all my heart!”

I returned home, utterly exhausted and deliriously happy, smiling at everyone I passed on the street. Afternoons as perfect as that don’t grow on trees. We’re fortunate to experience them even a few times in our lives. Since serving Mistress Victoria Cayne, I’ve been granted an embarrassment of riches. The more I get to know her, the better I like her. She’s truly kind and giving to those she deems worthy. MVC has the opposite of the dreaded “domme-itis” syndrome. She’s like the anti-domme—completely natural and down to earth?no artifice whatsoever. What you see is what you get. 

“If I have to sell you on how great I am, we aren’t a good match,” she said to me. “My reputation speaks for itself.” 

My first session with MVC was in January of 2019 and my devotion to her has steadily deepened. I’ve lost interest in seeing anyone else. It’s incredible to me that every session just keeps getting better, even after all this time. Any sub she deems worthy to serve her is truly blessed. I’m overjoyed to count myself among them.

Pushing your submission to the next level

“ I began sessioning with MVC back in 2014 and the intensity built into these sessions grew considerably over time. Her creativity seemed to ensure every session would build on the next and there would be plenty of surprises on the submissive journey she was crafting so wonderfully. Then covid hit and i thought the chemistry would need to be re-established if our live sessions ever resumed. It turns out that I didn’t need to worry.

The 1st session back was if there wasn’t a two-year hiatus. MVC hit every old chord beautifully and, as always, added a few tricks that added even more to what became a wonderful session. However, it was the next session where MVC demonstrated, once again, why she has established herself as one of the best in the business.

It started with my simply adding another simple word to my session request. That simple word, dirty, led to MVC unleashing an ever-increasing cadence of 1st time experiences as soon as I presented myself and just continued to build on each other. At one point she turned me into what felt like a junior partner in pushing my submission to her to a level I never would have imagined when I first started. I was left speechless, emotionally spent and utterly used by a remarkable Mistress.”

Doing What I Love!

It has been a minute since I updated my blog, and that is because I have been so busy doing what I absolutely love. Artistically creating mind blowing scenes, playing with those I have deep chemistry with, and constantly pushing those who come to serve me.

Come find out what all the hype is about. What are you waiting for? I have my own high end, fully equipped studio in Philadelphia, and also frequent Boston and New York City. 

Mistress Cayne,

What an incredible day, thank you so much! It was exactly what I needed, and was ultimately hoping for. 

I just had my first meal of the day, and my jaw immediately reminded me what it went through yesterday — awesome!

I mentioned yesterday it was the most intense I could remember. What was so intense was the back and forth — my mind couldn’t figure out whether to enjoy or brace for impact 🙂 Pushing me to my edge was perfect and helped me get into headspace. 

The electric itself was perfect too, in so many ways — just enough of the spikes to be a bit painful at times, but pleasurable too. At times the electric actually felt like a hand moving, which was amazing. 

You kept me guessing the whole time, I never got comfortable for very long with any predicament. You are truly a master of your craft. 

Thank you so much.

Lucky to be Hers

A short while ago, I had the privilege to once again serve Miss Victoria Cayne in Her dungeon in Philadelphia. Days before I was scheduled to travel to Pennsylvania to see Her, I got the message every slave both dreads and loves to see… “It’s time to lock up!”

Already on edge from the days (and sleepless nights) in chastity, I arrived at the dungeon—where MVC wasted no time collaring, binding, and leashing me. I’ve come to learn from experience that MVC likes me as physically helpless as I am mentally helpless in Her presence. Now rendered nothing more than a toy for Her amusement, Mistress soon moved me to the imposing bondage chair against the wall—but not before making sure I was outfitted with all manner of electric toys for Her to play with for the next hour or so.

I’m always amazed at the expert skill with which MVC paces a scene. Elaborate bondage takes time to execute properly and the process of being bound is as much a part of the experience as the complete immobilization itself. While gagged and blindfolded, it’s hard to tell exactly what Mistress is or will be doing next—but Her presence radiates throughout the dungeon maintaining connection and chemistry throughout.

After being locked in chastity for a prolonged period, the skin is extra sensitive. Sensation is dialed up to eleven and sometimes what would otherwise be pleasurable sensations can burn or feel like CBT. MVC took this to Her full advantage keeping me completely on edge… the only relief from Her torturous ministrations coming in the form of Her sweaty feet pressed against my face as the electricity cascaded and peaked below. Already at my wits end, Mistress then moved me to the spanking bench, where She had even more access to ruthlessly tease and deny me until I could take no more…

All the while a single thought permeated my conscious, “I’m so lucky to be Hers!”

Best of Both Worlds

slave a and I were having troubles aligning our schedules, and we were long overdue to play, so I made sure My weekend was clear as well as his for some long overdue play time…he is such a dear toy to Me, and I cherish each and every scene we have together. 

“MVC’s judgement as always had been extraordinarily prudent and wise! It had been over a week since my last release and the anticipation for O/our session the following day had me already melting… A chastity cage was more than necessary to ensure “Her” cock didn’t have any accidents in the interim.

As instructed, I locked up as the anticipation for O/our extended scene had my head in all sorts of places. I anticipated the embrace of MVC’s leather body bag, strewn out to be used, teased, and/or tortured however She wished. Whether that was to be the challenge of increasingly harsh electrics, the intimacy and humiliation of having Her feet and armpits pressed against my face, or whatever other torture She may have in store. I was also excited by the possibilities of playing both in the immaculately equipped dungeon She shares with Domina Ava St. Marks as well as in the hotel room I had booked nearby. Splitting the scene over the course of two days provided a chance to recapture that clandestine intimacy of O/our earliest encounters in Boston and doing something kinky/taboo in a more domestic/everyday environment. 

As I think back: one of my happiest memories of the past year was a simple, fleeting moment of laying on the ground—MVC and I in O/our vanilla clothes–while W/we waiting for an Uber to arrive. Staring into MVC’s eyes, Her feet pressed against my face straight from their sneakers. Perhaps it was my imagination, but they seemed the most foul they had ever been. The smell was so strong I couldn’t decide whether it was reward or punishment–but ultimately it didn’t matter because there was my Mistress locking eyes with me and that was all that mattered. I could have stayed there for a week… 🙂

Breaking up the session between the dungeon and hotel truly would allow us to have the best of both worlds.

True to form, the afternoon in the dungeon was positively mind scrambling. Mistress instructed me to arrive plugged with an extra key to my hotel room and the only keys to my chastity cage. Both were handed over to Her with haste before I was forced to succumb to some of the most restrictive bondage and intense electric play in O/our entire history of playing. All the while, being completely denied for the 2+ hours.

A quick shower followed by a delightful dinner before I headed back to hotel, still securely locked, for whatever rest I could muster. For you see, MVC had that extra key to my hotel room along with my full consent to show up without warning at any time of Her choosing!

I can think of no luckier way to be woken up. MVC came unannounced to my hotel, to bind me in a complex web on intricate rope bondage & to torment me with Her sweaty feet. The more I whimpered about being locked up in chastity, the more Mistress teased me. A cock-shaped gag was forced into my mouth ensuring that as Her feet pressed upon my face, the rubber cock was shoved deeper and deeper down my throat. It was sensory overload at it’s finest.

Finally satisfied I suffered enough for Her amusement, I was at last unlocked and the scene came to its inevitable conclusion. If I wasn’t tied down, I’m sure I would have floated to the ceiling of the hotel suite.

Rest assured—whether in a dungeon or in a hotel—MVC’s sessions are second to none! No one can craft and execute a scene the way She can! Her penchant for orchestrating mind-blowing scenes is unrivaled.

Have some cake with your submission

Here’s another account from slave a on one of O/our recent sessions. Enjoy!

Kneeling on the floor: collared, locked in chastity, that familiar feeling of subspace encroaching as the sound of Mistress’s boots descending the dungeon stairs fills the room…

MVC had asked me some new ways I wanted to be pushed in this particular session, and I had reluctantly disclosed that I had always had a fascination with trying sploshing. And so, I was commanded to stop at the grocery store on the way to the dungeon and pick up some supplies. Now with the session beginning, I had no idea how MVC’s creative, wicked, and boundless imagination would put to use the items I had brought.

When MVC was satisfied I had paid adequate attention to worshiping Her stunning thigh-high boots, She wasted no time in securing me to a piece of bondage furniture using an expert combination of ropes, straps, and elastic netting. This left me ready to be used as She saw fit.

After, I was unbound and instructed to lie on the floor. An electric toy was then dialed to as high as I could withstand. It was only then that MVC’s devious plans for the cake I had brought became known to me…

MVC had decided to add a twist to the usual stinky foot worship included in O/our scenes. Not only would I be forced to smell Her feet, but afterwards I would have to clean the frosting from the cake completely off of them. Being forced to lick the overly sweet frosting only to encounter the occasional salty patch was horrible, gross, degrading… and yet now a forever cherished memory.

All this continued until MVC had been thoroughly satisfied and I lay on the ground completely defeated.

Finally after being given a moment to compose myself, I was allowed to shower before being sent on my way… locked back up until MVC decided otherwise!

More Fun with J

This dear toy of Mine has been serving Me for many months. He strives to be the best toy for Me he can possibly be, in and out of scene. His devotion to Me is exquisite and deeply treasured. Each and every time, I make sure his bottom matches his equally rosy cheeks, which I manifest by erotically embarrassing him… thank you, J!

Before I begin my praise of Miss Victoria Cayne’s beauty and skills in discipline, I want to thank her for her recommendation of Wreck n Roll’s beard oil. I purchased Public Enemy No. 1 Beard Oil based upon her comments on Twitter. I only needed to see that it “excites and pleases” her and I was placing my order. Miss Victoria Cayne’s taste is impeccable! This product is of very high quality. Smooth, fragrant and comfortable to apply. It contains vitamins to soothe the skin and a tobacco fragrance to lend a masculine scent among the traces of almond and avocado oils.

I am enthralled with Miss Victoria Cayne. I’m anticipating some well deserved discipline from her in a few weeks in Boston. My past sessions with her have instilled in me a sense of awe in her ability to inflict pain and discipline with a caring follow-up. Her spankings are thrilling and punishing. My bottom, under her firm hand, is reddened and stinging. She orders me into a very submissive position when inspecting me and preparing me. I have never felt so vulnerable as I do at that time. Embarrassed, exposed, lying still while awaiting her is an experience that I look forward to with timid and excited anticipation. My surrender to her is exquisite. I know that in my upcoming session, my lack of consideration in the past will be dealt with severely and it is my need to accept it and embrace this act of corrective behavior before moving on as a humbled submissive devoted to her. I hope to emerge from her discipline and pleasure in exposing me completely as a better person and client of hers. Pain and humility lead to respect under proper tutelage and I recognize my good fortune in being allowed to be taught and reformed by Miss Victoria Cayne.

Roleplay with J

I have been playing with J, for many months now, and although I have pushed them very far in many directions, this was the first time we opted for a role play…it continues below…

Be careful what you wish for 😉 Thank you so much for the fun time always, J.

“The door creaked open, and I heard the shoes march in before I could do anything.  Sure enough, her biting words rang out; “Oh my God, what are you doing?!”

“N-nothing” I say, frantically trying to put my hard cock back in my pants, while pausing the porn video I had up on my computer screen.  The secretary had walked in on me at the worst possible time.

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” she said to me harshly.  And then, to my dismay, she moved forward, seizing control of the situation.  Confidently, aggressively, she demanded “Show me what you’re watching.”  Despite my racing heartbeat, there was no escaping things now.  She was right by my side, leaning over me to see the screen.  She saw the video there, with a dominant woman bending her submissive over.  My face turned beet red with embarrassment, and I begged her not to tell anyone else in the office what she had seen.  She knew – she now held the power.

Her words bit into me again, resonating deep within me, causing me to tremble with fear, humiliation and arousal: “If you want me to keep quiet, then we’re going to do this my way.  You’re going to tell me all your fantasies, and I’m going to use them against you.  Now, strip!”

With no other option but to obey, my clothes were off and I was there to serve Miss Victoria, praying that I would perform well enough that she wouldn’t turn me in to my boss.  I revealed my fantasies. And true to her word, each of these became reality.  Miss Victoria discovered my stash of sissy clothes in my bag and made me dress for her.  She bent me over the desk and punished me, repeatedly spanking me.  My ass cheeks turned red while she forced me to watch more of the porn video and describe what I liked about it.  As words tumbled out of my mouth, Miss Victoria’s hold on me grew stronger, giving her still more information to hold over my head, to humiliate me, and make me do as she wished.

Next, she moved me to the bed, restraining me and locking me into place.  After further punishment strokes, I was allowed to rub and massage Miss Victoria’s feet. I was there to serve her needs, even the most basic ones.  Still restrained and in place with no way to escape, she towered over me. My mind tried and failed to comprehend the emotions that coursed through me as I lay there.  Subject to this demeaning and humiliating act, yet paradoxically feeling honored, privileged, even blessed to serve in this way.

The verdict was in: Miss Victoria informed me that I had performed well – that she would not tell anyone about what she had seen me doing on company time.  As I floated in and out of subspace, she told me this was now our ritual.  By day we could go through the motions of boss and secretary.  By night though, I would kneel before her.  I had become her toy, her submissive, her slut.”


slave a and I recently commemorated two years since Our/our first session! I wanted to share some of his thoughts below:

A short while ago, MVC and I celebrated Our/our two-year “slave-a-versary”. Reflecting on the two years since We/we first met, I was reminded how grateful I am to be Her slave. I feel like I’ve run out of superlatives and accolades to describe what an incredible Mistress MVC is. Each and every boundary-pushing session has been more thrilling, hot, and mind-blowing than the last.

To serve MVC is to feel purpose. To stare into Her beautiful eyes is to be known. To be beneath Her is to know peace.

The tortured anticipation of waiting for Our/our session was almost too much to bear; The knots in my stomach, the sleepless nights, and the erotic charge of longing to serve again. I even felt forced to lock myself back into chastity a few days before We/we played—not trusting my basest of instincts—and wanting to ensure I arrived at the dungeon in as a helpless, submissive frenzy as I could. As I heard the familiar click of the lock and felt the confining snugness of the steel cage, I realized I had been on borrowed time. “This is where I belong,” as MVC would say.

The session was of course incredible! A brilliantly orchestrated barrage of impact play and scratching, electrics, heavy bondage, foot worship, and overall total domination—all perfectly executed as only MVC can.

In a recent tweet, MVC described a photo of the marks left on a sub as how She paints. It’s an appropriate sentiment that only deepens the more consideration is given. Not only do the marks reveal themselves to be art through the simple visual contrast against the skin—but the entire process in how they are rendered is nothing short of art.

Like the greatest artisan, MVC, is capable of eliciting the desired results using Her tools and me, Her canvas. Having played dozens of times now, She knows not only the limits of pain I can take mentally—but the exact amount of pressure and force required to leave her imprint upon me without drawing blood. The result is art, as is the process. A beautiful power exchange between Mistress & sub.

I am so honored to be Hers.