In the comments section I received a question which having answered it, I thought it worthy of a blog post. It is below.
out of curiosity has bb ever broke into tears during any of your torments to him and begged at your feet for mercy , if so what made him break down and what was your reaction towards him.
Thank you for taking the time to read my comment and i am looking forward to your reply
Yes on a good number of occasions. The two which recur and come to mind are:
In the early days of having a dominant female visitor (or two) come to our house. I would dress him up in a ridiculous, shaming outfit at least an hour before the planned arrival time. I would then have him just stand in the middle of the room, doing nothing, other than thinking ahead to the arrival of the other female(s) and watch him fret and fret. On these occasions, in the early years, he would inevitably drop to his knees, sobbing and kiss my footwear while he begged and begged for me to cancel the visitor(s). This gave me great pleasure and a power rush as did, my response to him, that I had no intention of cancelling and his utter mortification and misery was precisely the point of the exercise.
The other recurring occasions are when he has been sexually denied for over three weeks and I put on a little sexy show for him. Naked in heels, or in a tiny mini skirt and heels, rubbing my hands up and down my body. He inevitably drops to his knees, sobbing and kissing my footwear while begging and pleading and crying that he just can’t take it anymore – really, really can’t take it. My response – he can take it and I will prove that to him because he will not be cumming today or tomorrow and perhaps not for weeks yet.
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Volume 7 is now published on Lulu.com. The events detailed within are actually all from the first 6 months of 2014. This gives testament to the fact that after dominating bitch-boy for over 13 years, I have recently evolved to desire extreme domination and torment sessions on an at least weekly basis. Previous time consuming pastimes of mine, like long walks in the country, have been forfeited in favour of serious blocks of time spent on serious domination. I don’t know if this is a good thing for journal content but it is where I am – so that is that. Enjoy!
LINK Epub version
I will post again when it is available on Amazon Kindle, Barnes and Noble, etc.
I recently received a question about what are my favourite things I do with bitch-boy. I think favourite things come and go and so I am sure 6 months ago my favourites were different and probably will be different again in six months time. But as of now:
1. bb doing his rotary clothes line duty for at least an hour while I read or make phone calls. This occurred just yesterday. Over an hour and half, during which time I did make two very long phone calls. Sitting in the conservatory, chatting on the phone, watching my slave blindfolded, helpless and enduring utter tedium on a pointless, humiliating task. I did go outside three times and caned his arse a little to keep him motivated! Pure power rush the whole time.
2. Playing with his boys’ bits for at least an hour while watching a foreign language DVD.
3. Having him role play being a little girl, while dressed as a little girl, and playing with his dollies. For several hours – especially like on my summer holiday this year – six afternoons in succession. I read a novel or two and the whole time I am amused and relaxed and imbued with a sense of serious power as he continues his shaming, tedious, never-ending nightmare. (Fully detailed in Volume 7 of my journals to be published very soon.)
4. Having him strapped down and helpless for hours in the BDSM bed with gynaecological stirrups. Full sensory deprivation and visits every half hour or so to him, to torture his little clitty with stinging nettles.
Below is an extract from the soon to be published Volume 7 of my journals. Probably in the next 3 weeks. It details a weekly momentary routine of mine which I enjoy very much.
…………. I was leafing through the pile of supplements that constituted a weekend paper. I pulled out the sports section.
‘Pansy-piece, look at this, the sports section. There is no value in that being in this house is there? I suppose a real man would want to read it if there was one here, but there is just the two of us. Me, a woman, and you, a pathetic little sissy. No real man here, so no need of the sports section is there?’ He looked very downcast. I held the sports section out towards him and spoke with some venom.
‘Is there!’ He stared at the floor and whispered.
‘No Mithdreth.’ I smiled.
‘Go and put it in the recycling pile then pansy, as we have no need of it in this house.’ It was a very sullen bitch-boy who obeyed my instruction. I chuckled as he left the room which hurt him some more. (The sports section ‘discussion’ has now become a weekend routine – so amusing!)