A day at the BDSM fair with Cruel Reell

A few weeks ago, I discovered the account of the well-known mistress Cruel Reell on Twitter. I followed her, watched her videos and posts and became more curious with every clip. When I read that she was still looking for a slave for a workshop, it felt like an invitation straight into my imagination.

I wrote to her, applied - and she actually accepted me. She chose me for her workshop. I had no real practice, just fantasies and scenes from videos. Accordingly, I nervously asked her if I could bring her a gift. She told me her favorite perfume - so I set off, bought the expensive scent and had it carefully wrapped. I prefer to leave the finer details like beautiful packaging to the professionals.

The excitement builds

The closer the date approached, the more anticipation and anxiety mixed together. I watched more clips of Cruel Reell - spanking, CBT, hard scenes with whips and paddles. I realized that this wasn't just a "show". It was serious BDSM, with real spankings and real reactions.

I wrote to her in between. I told her about my preparations, that the perfume was ready and that the collar and leash were already at hand. At the same time, I asked myself: "Shouldn't you have informed yourself better beforehand?" But the thought of moving back felt worse than the prospect of pain.

The day has come ..

The Sunday of the fair was here. The bullwhip workshop was booked, although I didn't actually know exactly what "bullwhip" meant. I only had a hunch: whip. And not the most harmless kind.

I wrapped the present, added the neck restraint and leash and put on my best thong - if I was going to stand in front of a well-known dominatrix, at least I wasn't going to do it in my old underpants. With a mixture of fear, anticipation and secret pride, I made my way to the fair.

At the fair

At the entrance, I nervously checked that I had everything with me: gift, collar, leash. My hands were sweaty, my head was full. I walked through the halls, saw BDSM furniture that I had only seen in pictures before. A huge St. Andrew's cross caught my eye - I had previously thought such frames were more like railroad barriers, but now I was standing in front of them for the first time.

My first meeting with Cruel Reell

Then I saw her: Cruel Reell, sitting on a bench, in tight riding gear, confident and present. My nervousness suddenly jumped up a notch. I went up to her, introduced myself and immediately wanted to present her with the gift. First mistake.

She stopped me and soberly pointed out that you have to kiss your mistress's boots first. My face got hot, but I followed her order, knelt and kissed the boots. Only then was I allowed to hand over the gift. She unwrapped it straight away - I was lucky, it was the right scent. Then she asked me a few questions. Personal questions. Embarrassing questions. Exactly the kind of questions that make you feel naked before you've even taken your clothes off.

Then it was actually time to undress. Everything had to come off except for my thong. She handed me a T-shirt with the words "My safeword is harder" on it. I found it ironic - my first time with a dominatrix and a slogan like that on my chest.

I knelt, she put the collar on me and clipped on the leash. At that moment, I was hers - at least for that day.

A second slave was outfitted next to me. He was also given a collar. Then Cruel Reell led us both around the fair. On a tight leash, in a T-shirt and thong, under many glances. Suddenly I wasn't just watching a scene, I was part of the show.

The first time at the St. Andrew's cross

After a few laps of the hall, she explained that she was now in the mood for a playroom. On the way there, she announced in casual severity what I could expect. My pulse increased. In the playroom, she tied me to the St. Andrew's cross. Arms and legs tight, body at her mercy - no turning back.

It was a picture I had often secretly imagined. Now it was me standing there strapped down. She took out a large studded paddle - one smooth side, one side with studs. I fervently hoped for the smooth side.

She began to beat and I was supposed to count along. Up to ten. The strokes came hard, with pinpoint accuracy, making my bottom burn. Of course, it didn't stop at ten - bonus strokes are just part of the game.

She was obviously having fun, while I moved between pain, shame and a strange feeling of "it's finally real". When she released me from the cross again, I was relieved - and exhilarated at the same time.

My next task was much more sober: disinfecting the paddle and St. Andrew's cross. It was a public playroom, so hygiene was a must. Afterwards, we walked around the fair again and I had time to get my face color and heart rate down a bit.

Expensive fries

The mistress got hungry and we went outside to the chip stand. I was still standing outside in just a T-shirt and thong - at just under 3 degrees. But when the mistress is hungry, temperature only plays a minor role. I bought her chips.

A few chips fell on the floor. Reell ordered me to pick them up and eat them. My stomach tightened for a moment, but I followed. Back in the hall, I was allowed to eat a few leftover fries from the bowl. I was glad of every bite.

A short time later, she explained the 'price' of the fries to me: depending on the size, each one cost up to ten bites. My inner hit account grew with every bite I took. My appetite sank, but there was no turning back - I wasn't going to refuse her offer.

The cage

Back in the playroom, it was time to reduce my account. She locked me in a cage. The head could be secured separately. The door clicked shut and she reached for the paddle again. Her arm fitted perfectly between the bars.

Stroke by stroke, she worked through the account. I had to count, the bars in front of my face, the cage around me. At times I wasn't sure if I could really take it. She, on the other hand, seemed focused, almost cheerful. It was only when we reached zero that I breathed a sigh of relief - briefly.

Because of course there were a few extra strokes - this time also on my testicles and penis, with the nubbed side of the paddle. When she opened the door and let me out of the cage, I was exhausted, relieved and recharged at the same time. The tour of the fair continued, this time including cool air from outside, which cooled my glowing ass unexpectedly pleasantly.

We stopped at a photo shoot, after which she tested a few more toys on me at various stands. Finally, she gave me a choice: more strokes or buy a cane. My body was at its limit - I decided to buy one.

As it happens, the newly purchased cane naturally had to be "briefly tested". So both of us slaves stood there with our T-shirts pulled up and got to know the penetrating power of our new acquisition.

Bullwhip workshop

I had almost forgotten that a bullwhip workshop was on the agenda. When the time came, I realized once again that the day wasn't over yet. The bullwhip is a long whip - not for the faint-hearted.

The workshop took place in front of an audience. In my excitement, I could hardly tell whether they were just spectators or participants. Cruel Reell explained the bullwhip, demonstrated how to swing it and punched the air to show the sound.

I was given a short break, then she put me in the middle. She told me to get down on my knees. Even before the first blow came, I was shaking. My body was tired, my nervous system overstimulated. But I still didn't want to give up.

She smiled coolly, almost professionally - and showed everyone how to use the bullwhip. The whip wrapped around my body, a burning pain followed and a welt appeared almost immediately. Every blow burned, and not just at the moment of impact. I knew that I would see and feel the marks for some time to come.

I was almost relieved that the second slave was also involved. Shared burden is a surprising comfort on a day like this.

Tips for all levels - trade fair session with dominatrix step by step

Role play step by step - depending on the level

The farewell

The day of the trade fair was drawing to a close. After the bullwhip workshop, Cruel Reell dismissed me. There was no sentimental farewell, no gentle "take down". She remained the tough dominatrix, consistent to the end. I would have liked to talk to her for longer to sort out what I had experienced, but there was no such opportunity.

Instead, I spoke to the other slave. He was much more experienced, seemed more relaxed and less physically exhausted. It was good to have someone who understood what had happened to me - physically and mentally.

Back home, I knew that this day had pushed boundaries. Some in a positive sense, others I will protect more closely in future. But one thing was certain - I had experienced Cruel Reell and myself in a way that I won't soon forget.

Here you can find out how Reell tests our most popular toys - with videos.