We had a new visitor to my home today. It was not surprising that bitch-boy did not sleep too well last night. Mistress Justine is only 21 years old. She is a petit, Scandinavian with a tiny waist, pretty face and large dark eyes, long dark lashes and very long, luxurious dark hair. Her very dark eyes are like large black pearls. She lives in the UK, splitting her time between London and another location. I had met her for a drink earlier in the week. Mistress Justine has had an interest in dominance and sadism ever since her early childhood although she would not have known how to label her feelings then. She has been a part-time dominatrix since the age of 19 and is a true sadist and serious Mistress. She does not allow her clients a safe-word. She is an expert with the single tailed whip and asked if she could demonstrate her expertise on bitch-boy and to quote her, ‘……. I’m of course not an utter psychopath, but I do like to go hard when I get the chance.‘ I, of course, agreed enthusiastically to the demonstration and I passed this information onto bitch-boy so that he had plenty to fret about.
You would be right to question why such a perfect fantasy figure of the BDSM world would wish to visit me and my submissive who is old enough to be her father with a decade to spare. Her reason to do so is a demonstration of her very high intelligence and inspiration.
She took on a submissive male slave a few months ago who she refers to as ‘it’. When she and I met for a drink she advised me that ‘it’ had coyly admitted to having been a dedicated follower of my blog for years and ‘it’ had venerated me from afar for my treatment of bitch-boy. Mistress Justine therefore wanted to show it just how omnipresent she was in ‘its’ life by unexpectedly appearing on my blog, having met me and joined me in abusing bitch-boy for an afternoon. Thus showing ‘it’ that there was no aspect of ‘its’ life she could not invade. Surely no slave deserves such amazing inventiveness and absolutism. ‘it’ is an exceedingly lucky and privileged slave indeed! Mistress Justine is as imposing a Mistress as it is possible to be! She told me that it had had two previous Mistresses and one had even branded it, but it felt (despite the branding!) that they were really just playing and not true Mistresses. In Mistress Justine, it has certainly found a TRUE Mistress. ‘it’ is caned hard for infractions, including unintentional infractions.
Once Mistress Justine had changed and settled into my sitting room, I brought the literally trembling bitch-boy in to meet her. He was dressed in his full little girl outfit. His deep, deep shame and humiliation at being introduced to this beautiful, young, dominant woman, dressed as he was, his little bells tinkling, was unmatched! I felt so very, very powerful putting him through this profoundly hideous ordeal. I absorbed every scintilla of the wretchedness he radiated and while I did so, my sadistic pleasure levels surfed the highest waves. I had had two orgasms even before leaving to pick Mistress Justine up from the station, such was my sadistic arousal at bitch-boy’s state of anxious fretting.
Let me cut to the chase. Despite the delightful Mistress Justine’s almost childlike voice and calm demeanour, she is the most sadistic female I have ever met when it comes to whips, paddles and canes. Among all of the punishments bitch-boy received, simply for her pleasure, (and mine in watching), two stood out. The first was the application of my thin dressage whip to his inner thighs. He now sports many, many parallel lines of broken skin up and down each inner thigh. So much pain! The second was her ‘goodbye’ caning. His buttocks are striped, swollen, inflamed and bruised. Throughout these agonising treatments, Mistress Justine’s eyes radiated pleasure and an intensity of purpose (to inflict real pain) that I have only seen fleeting glimpses of before in fellow Dommes. It was mesmerising and exhilarating to watch her concentrated, relaxed devotion to gaining pleasure from inflicting agonising pain and these emotions in me were magnified by the power I felt in gifting bitch-boy to her to suffer so.
When I returned from dropping Mistress Justine at the station, I had to have two more orgasms immediately, such was the perverse eroticism of the afternoon, heightened by observing poor bitch-boy’s ‘battle scars’ as I sat in my bedroom chair, thighs splayed wide.
Mistress Justine’s slave most certainly has a Mistress who is not playing! And through this vicarious delegation of my heartless power this afternoon, I can see that bitch-boy is so, so in awe of me.