Monthly Archives: January 2015

Cruel Christmas Presents

I don’t think I ever set out on this blog all of the presents I bought bitch-boy for Christmas. Before I begin I will mention that he bought me two items of exquisite expensive jewellery and a number of other perfect gifts. All wrapped divinely.
His presents were wrapped in old newspaper.

Half a dozen drinking straws in a range of colours which had the top end in the shape of male genitalia. A little cock and a pair of balls. Produced for hen-nights. I extracted the blue straw from the pack and told bitch-boy to throw it away, explaining that blue is a male colour and sissies do not get to use male things; no things coloured blue. (The other colours were pastel shades of pink, green, mauve, yellow and orange.)

Six colouring-in books, mentioned and pictured in an earlier blog post. They have 64 pages each and it takes forever to colour-in one page! I reiterated that he can be in no doubt he has hours and hours, for years and years, ahead of him, dressed as a little girl, colouring-in with the help of his dolly Suzette Simperkins – the tedium of the same little girl fairy themed pages, again and again and again, while I, and any guests, enjoy grown-up pursuits. He looked so forlorn and helpless and wretched staring down at his six new books. I am sure his mind turned to the fact that I will be giving up work in the not too distant future, a future which he must feel is rushing towards him.

Pink Exfoliating gloves. A suggestion from a reader of my blog. I posted a link to a retail site for these on my blog on 3 January 2015. Later in the day, (as described fully in my draft Volume 9 Journal), he came to know the pain these gloves would bring him – twice – even though I only used them once.

Fingerless white lace gloves. Perfect for a sissy maid and a little girl to wear.

A small, red, weighted, leather strap. About 12 inches long and, at the business end, a little wider than a 12 inch ruler. Sewn into the business end is a flat piece of metal, giving the strap a lovely weight. I explained it appeared perfect to use for smacking naughty little clitties and we would find out if that was the case, later in the day. It certainly was! And remains so.

A pair of pink and white ruffled satin and lace, elasticated ankle cuffs on each of which are sewn six, large, spherical bells. Oh the tinkling has to be heard to be believed when he walks while wearing the cuffs.

A large pair of pink PVC lockable plastic pants which can be secured with padlocks at thigh and waist to go over diapers. Expensive and wonderful! They are soooo humiliating and work as a chastity device too. Mistress Jane has expressed much interest in them for her impending next visit and bitch-boy is so miserable about that.

Very Strictly Controlled Ejaculations

I noticed, in answer to a question to bitch-boy on his Q&A section of this blog, that he answered as follows:

“I do not know the exact date of the last time I had sexual intercourse. Once I was in chastity, Mistress Scarlet began gradually reducing the frequency of me penetrating her, the times became longer and longer apart until one day it just never happened again. Because I know which house we lived in at the time, I do know it was at least 7 years ago.

My last wank without another person present was even longer ago, as soon as the first chastity device was introduced.”

bitch-boy’s answer got me thinking about the evolution that has taken place regarding his ejaculations. Regular readers will know that (unless he is undergoing a serious punishment period for a serious infraction), he gets to ejaculate between once every ten days to two weeks (sometimes three weeks). I make his ejaculations forceful and powerful for him. I do so because he then knows just how much pleasure I am withholding from him on a daily basis, just because it amuses me to do so – and its cruel and controlling. And I take great pleasure from being cruel and controlling.

Something I had not really thought about was the degrading attributes that now accompany each of his ejaculations. I am amazed how these attributes moved from an occasional special torment, to become the normal state of affairs – without me thinking about this evolution. Attributes as follows:

I think it is probably three years since he ejaculated free from a session of dickie-discipline first. Probably in the last two years there has been at least one application of Deep Heat embrocation cream as part of every dickie-discipline session. He has been in serious bondage during every single ejaculation for about two years. Even if we are away staying in a hotel on a long holiday, the Deep Heat and his wrists secured to his collar, have been in play. It must be two years since he ejaculated free of the taste of my piss or his semen in his mouth, thanks to the ice chunks and funnel gag. Even on holiday he will have been pissed on in a walk-in shower, and into his mouth, before moving to the bondage/ejaculation stage.

And it is unimaginable to me that , in the future, not even a single one of his ejaculation events will ever be any different, unless I have found ways to make them even more degrading or controlled. This evolution thing, over the years – is hard to keep tabs on. What starts as a special twist, ends up as an integral part without one realising it. Its interesting.

Perverse Participants Proliferate

Well my sybarite desires look like they may well be reaching very high satisfaction levels in the coming months. Next month Mistress X (referred to as Mistress Jane in my published Journal No.8) is visiting for the third time. bitch-boy is, of course, fretting delightfully over this, and so he should be. Mistress Jane is an absolutely divine Domme. She is young, beautiful, completely heartless, very cruel and huge, huge fun. Given she has only been dominating her own slave-boy for around a year – I can hardly imagine what she will be like after 10 years of dominance! (I am approaching 15 years of dominating. Where does the time go!!??) I visited Mistress X and assisted in a session subjugating her sb just before Christmas – great cruel fun. Mistress X and I have agreed to continue reciprocating visits to each other to double-dome our respective subs for the foreseeable future. A very long future I hope. (Her second visit to me and my first visit to her are both journal entries in the part-written Volume 9 of my journals.)

But there is more. At the end of the month I am having lunch with a young, attractive submissive lesbian and if that goes as well as I imagine it will, I will also subsequently be visited by a new play-toy, having my wicked way with her and cuckolding poor bitch-boy in the process. (Visited often I hope, if all goes well.) And it gets better! During my email exchanges with play-toy, she has revealed a very cruel streak when it comes to bitch-boy and has already listed the things she would like to witness being done to bitch-boy – once she and I have together satiated our own mutual needs. Including seeing him be reduced to tears. So bitch-boy is seriously fretting about this too. Life is good.

Remote Controlled Bondage

I went out for the day in the city with my sisters and mother yesterday. A lovely day of shopping, lunch and cocktails. Obviously some further pleasure (I am such a syberite), could be squeezed out of this delightful day by some remote domination and abuse of bitch-boy while I was out. I came up with a new twist to what I have historically referred to as ‘cotton bondage’. I won’t go into lots of detail on the bondage. Safe to say – by 8:00am he was locked in a nappy and secured to the bed – and whining at the unfairness – poor bitch-boy. I left him and drove away, singing along to the CD player – so contented and happy. The twist is that on the bedside unit next to him, I left our landline telephone. When this telephone goes to voicemail, the message being recorded is broadcast loudly from the phone unit while it is being recorded. (I also left a camera on the bedside unit.) At about 12:30 lunchtime I telephoned my landline number. Obviously bitch-boy could hear as I announced on the phone that he was now allowed to free himself from his bondage, and begin on the long list of chores I had left him. I told him he could expect me home when I damn well felt like it! The whole time he had been in bondage he had his right hand free. Now, he had received the phone call, he could while resting his watch next to his left wrist and then his ankles, take a photograph to show all the bondage was in place at the time of my call. I felt so powerful all morning as I sat, having the most wonderful time, with my sisters and mother – miles and miles away from him, knowing he was helpless in his bondage until I chose to make a phone call – at my whim.

Very Cookie Cutter Like

I am very fortunate and grateful that I have had so many generous comments about my published writing on Amazon and in comments on this blog. I can recall only two negative comments and there must be hundreds of positive, generous comments. I however seek the advice of United States blog readers. I always wish to ensure my writing is of the best quality I can muster and the choice of subject matter from my life is interesting to readers. One of the two negative comments I have ever had, which is on the US Amazon site, gives a two star rating to my Short Stories publication and I do not understand the comment which I think must be a US phrase not used in the UK. The phrase of criticism is ‘VERY COOKIE CUTTER LIKE.’ I have no idea what this means and so cannot take the criticism into account in future writing. I am intrigued as to what it means. The publication has been 5 star rated on Can any US readers enlighten me?


Governesses and School Teachers

Ahhhhhhhhgggh! So many photos of dominant, femdom Governesses and School teachers on the internet. Nothing wrong with that at all – in principle. I like to put bitch-boy through a few hours of gruelling, humiliating school girl detention form time to time. Dressed in his ridiculous uniform, he writes lines for hours, or copies out pages and pages from a girls fiction book, or does a spelling test. Lots of tedium, caning, strap to the palms and sitting on coir matting.

But Ahhhhhhhhgggh, why do the women in the photos have to wear glasses – and much, much worse still, when they do – here is the really infuriating offence – HOLD THE GLASSES BY THE FRAME AT THE SIDE OF THIR FACES!!!!!! I don’t think I have ever seen a glasses wearer do this. On reflection, I actually don’t have a problem with the glasses at all. The problem is HOLDING THE GLASSES BY THE FRAME AT THE SIDE OF THIR FACES!!!!!! It looks posed, unrealistic and ridiculous. It is such a farcical, puerile pose. Like some jokey sea-side postcard from the 1940’s. What do the photographers think they are playing at?

Well, irrational, fanatical rant over. I’ve got that off my chest.


Ball strap enhancement

As much as I have always adored playing with his boys bits as explained in this post. I enhanced the experience for me this Christmas – also making it worse for bitch-boy. The two things inevitably go hand in hand.

In addition to the usual bondage and sensory deprivation while he is on hands and knees on one end of the sofa, I secured a ball strap very tightly around the base of his scrotum. I then secured a chain so it was very taught, from the D ring on the ball strap at his perineum, to the D-ring on the collar at the back of bitch-boy’s neck. This pulled all his boy’s bits package firmly through the back of his thighs and out behind him providing even more excellent access than normal. I also clipped his wrist cuffs to the chain high up at his shoulder blades. So I had the extra, easy access to tickle and play, and the additional visual stimulation of his genitals in bondage and his wrists even more seriously secured. And he had the additional feeling of restraint as even his genitals were now pulled firmly and bound, and his wrists were not just secured together but were also pulled higher up his back. Absolute helplessness and vulnerability, AND sensory deprivation. Of course he had already taken a Cialis.

So each day at home over Christmas, bitch-boy suffered me playing with his sensitive shaved balls and his SO hard little erection, bound utterly immobile and controlled, sexually frustrated and desperate, blindfolded, gagged and with ear plugs and ear defenders. I watched foreign language programs (just in case any sound penetrated his ear plugs and defenders! – no audio plot for him to attempt to follow), and each day he spent between one and two hours like this. Just about every time I had him like this, I had to stop fiddling with him for a while and fiddle with myself – it turns me on so. I am sure he gets to feel my masturbatory movement and possibly hear my cries of gratification, or at least sense the culmination. So, no doubt, the difference between his sexual desperation and my excessive sexual satisfaction further keeps him subjugated to my will.

I had such a wonderful Christmas!

Making the pain worse

My thanks to MaidaSissyinPinkPanties who suggested I purchase Exfoliant Gloves as one of bitch-boy’s Xmas presents. Which I did. Since Christmas day, I have used them once. While bitch-boy was in the bath (my old bathwater) I put on the gloves and teased him very roughly until he was begging me to stop and he was whining continually about the soreness – he was still hard as rock though! LOL Not long after, he found himself on the BDSM bed, bound helplessly, and I teased him to erection and then applied some Deep Heat Muscle Rescue. Oh the sobbing! The gloves had certainly created many abrasions to the sensitive skin. (The Deep Heat Muscle Rescue is the most harsh of the Deep Heat range – harsher than Extra Strength – go figure?) I will report on the success of the other Xmas presents in due course. It was a very successful Christmas! Happy New Year to you all.