Monthly Archives: March 2012

We know who the image is aimed at

Can there really be any doubt that the image on the front cover of the latest Radio Times magazine is aimed at submissive men (and women) who fantasise about nasty nurses? I don’t think so.

Although, I would certainly enjoy the prospect of spending a day or two collaborating with the featured female in subjecting my poor, confined to bed, bitch-boy to a day or two of Nurse Nasty treatments. Her pictured image suggests she would enjoy those tears and that despondent whimpering just as much as I do. And what she and I could get up to away from bitch-boy in my own bedroom in those ‘rest’ periods for our patient is also a delightful thought.

Is this yet more mainstreaming of the BDSM lifestyle?

Ignoring his little object – almost

For over two weeks now I have kept his little object locked into its narrow tube without any attention – almost. BTW, it cannot get anywhere near properly hard in its unyielding tube. Every few days I supervise him shaving it, washing it and it remains flaccid under threat of severe punishment, then back into its tube.  I have queened him almost every other day during this period. Each queening session, after one or two tremendous orgasms for me, I recover, and calmly instruct him to attend to a chore. ‘Go and tidy the kitchen pansy-piece.’ ‘Go and clean my boots bitch-boy.’ ‘Go and prepare the evening meal.’ He is a picture of resigned, powerless, sad submissiveness as he walks from the room, and I get a wonderful rush of cruel power!

A couple of days ago, we were preparing to go out for a meal. After bathing, I again queened him. Then had him kneel facing the wall, wrists bound behind him while I dressed and put on my make-up. Then, when I was ready, I asked him if he wanted some attention. He gushed that he did. His wrists remained bound and, tube removed, I tickled his shaved balls with one hand and slowly pumped his little granite hard object with a tight fist with my other hand.

His mewing and gasps of pleasure and joy were very amusing. He was sooooo sensitive. After some edging, the trusty ruler and Deep heat were produced and the gasps turned to whimpering and begging. I was harsh, repeatedly.

After over half-an-hour I told him his attention was over. He looked like he may cry as he returned his object to its tight tube and I padlocked it through his frenum piercing ring. Just before we left, I had him lick me clean after urinating and lick some drops from the floor, then thank me for being allowed to do so. I could sense, mixed within his cocktail of sadness and hopelessness was, a very deep awe of me. Delightful!

An interesting question

I received an interesting question in a comment on my blog. I thought I would post the question and my response.

Thank you Mistress Scarlet for your wonderful writings! Having bought your 3 Journals (for my iPhone) I read them pretty much back to back. Having said that, although I have been with my Goddess for almost a year, I think we are some way from the kind of techniques and lifestyle you describe.

That said, I did have one question if you have time. I can understand that the pain and denial never lose their edge, but hasn’t bitch-boy got used to the extremely humiliating outfits by now? You seem to have him in them an awful lot, after all. Or is it the games that keep it fresh? I’d still somehow expect him to become acclimatised, or am I not understanding the dynamic?

Many Thanks!


Thank you for the appreciative words about my journals Armando. You ask an interesting question about bitch-boy becoming acclimatised to the humiliating outfits. I had to think about my answer for a while.

I will focus on three outfits. His black and white, knee length maid’s uniform. His pink maid’s uniform and pink little girl’s frock, both with the hem coming down only to his hips.

I think there are several reasons why acclimatisation is minimised. Firstly, because my tastes are so eclectic, he may go a week or 10 days without wearing a shame outfit because for that period, I happen to have him do his chores when I am not in the house, and when I am in the house I have him in TSD bondage or some other significant torment not involving shaming clothes.

Second, in addition to the week or 10 days, he often does his chores and serving when I am at home in his black and white maid’s uniform. This uniform is his least shaming but when he is in it, I treat him exactly as an irrelevant maid. I virtually ignore him as he goes about his duties and serving although I am quick to bring the cane into use for a poor curtsey or other infraction. So this uniform gives him a sense of being very low in status and in significance to me.

Third, if it is just the two of us, I think he has become acclimatised a little but I can see that in his pink maid’s uniform, each curtsey pains him in its pointlessness as the hem is already at waist height. He has a very large ribbon around his genitals and I will often comment on this which adds to the clear sense of exposure and vulnerability his uniform brings him.

Fourth, his acclimatisation is minimal in his little girl’s frock because it is so ludicrous with its tinkling bells at the hem and there are all the ways I heighten his humiliation. Having to hold his big dolly, and even worse talk to it and play with it. His mincing ribbons. His nursery rhymes with actions. And, of course, my frequent and harsh comments about how ridiculous he looks and how he is just a toy, a human doll, for me to dress humiliatingly for my amusement.

Finally and most importantly by far, there is clearly no acclimatisation at all when I host other dominant females and he is in a shame outfit. The trembling and trepidation in the minutes waiting for them to arrive and the crushed demeanour and pure shame when they are present is very apparent!


Yet More TSD bondage

Because bitch-boy so hates Total Sensory Deprivation bondage, I find I am using it more and more. For tedious reasons I need not go into I had to apologise to Miss J and postpone her visit; but that did not mean I could not get some pleasure out of the weekend. Sunday morning, I informed him of my intention of many hours of TSD bondage for him. He begged and begged very pitifully which just made me even more keen to treat him mean, and it also increased the anticipation of the pleasure of it.

Soon enough he found himself bound legs wide apart, at ankle and knee, head strapped into place, silicone ear plugs, funnel gag, blindfold, straightjacket and baby video monitor. And there he stayed for 5 hours. Before the gag was fixed in place I did queen him for some lovely worship of my most secret places. (twice).

I visited him four times after that for some serious dicki-discipline. Pegs, ruler, Deep Heat, tease and denial. (It is several weeks since he has cum, I had lost track of the exact number of days although I am sure he hadn’t.) Lots of spitting into his funnel gag. Twice I had to ‘see to myself’.

Between visits, I sat downstairs, reading, watching TV, phoning friends and family and seeing to emails, always with the little video monitor by my side. My occasional glance at its little screen always brought forth a smile about my lips and a huge sense of ownership, power and perversity – delightful.

My final visit was more of the same, no cumming for him though despite unremitting distressed begging sounds during the teasing, and finally he was released. He seemed exhausted even though he had lay in bed for 5 hours – odd?