Truly Miserable Subjugation

My thanks go to the Mistress of boot-gimp for providing me with the three little words that can bring so much miserable subjugation to a slave. ‘Until further notice’.

I have for a long time implied the meaning of those words to certain activities without using the words. Just before turning on the white noise, when putting a slave into sensory deprivation bondage, the slave has no idea how long they will be in their miserable bondage, although I do usually advise them of the minimum time it will be, and occasionally announce a duration which is actually a mind fuck time. Also, when setting them off on colouring-in with their dolly , the ‘until further notice’ situation is implied.

However I have used the words for many activities since learning them, including those I list below.

If I want to chat on the phone or watch TV I may instruct bitch-boy to face the wall in the corner and then in a whisper he must practice his I’m A Little Teapot rhyme with actions, beginning and ending with a curtsey – UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

If I have a Domme guest sitting on the sofa with me, with whom I wish to have a long catch-up chat, I will give the same instruction, accept he must practice I’m A Little Teapot facing us, UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. He is ignored while doing so, apart from the occasional withering glance of amusement and disdain. (In Volume 6 of my published journals I detail the physical actions required for each line of the rhyme.

When bitch-boy has gone a long time without sexual release and I tell him he will not be coming that day, I have him kneel at my pretty feet in their erotic shoes and he must wank himself and stay erect, allowing his gaze to move from my toes, up my partially dressed body to my throat and back down again, UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. Obviously he is NOT ALLOWED to cum! His frustration and humiliation is off-the-scale; while I relax and watch TV or read. (I may even bring myself to orgasm while he does this, just to remind him of the differential in my frequency and freedom to orgasm compared to his.)

I may set Play-toy, in her pigtails, to line writing at the table while her freshly caned butt rests painfully on coir matting on the chair. I advise her she must write three lines per minute and write them UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. A typical line would be, ‘I am Pigtails Prudence, a naughty likkel girl who does not deserve her Mistress.’ I monitor her line writing with a video baby monitor while I occupy myself elsewhere.

I may set either slave to sitting in the middle of the room and audibly kissing the sole of one of my soiled boots, (I am not wearing), UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.



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8 Responses to Truly Miserable Subjugation

  1. slave says:

    Ms Scarlet, it is amazing the level of Domination You bring to bb and your life. Speaking as a slave, not knowing how long a punishment , or task will last makes my mind race and causes significant frustration and fear. Speaking for myself, all i can say is no matter how much i am pushed , punished, beaten, i always come back for more. i strive to be the most miserable slave, and constantly beg for more tasks that will make my life miserable, as i know the pleasure my Mistress derives from making me suffer, is what its all about. Thank You for your time reading this.

  2. slavetotoes says:

    Dear Mistress Scarlet,
    I am writing a long 24/7 slavery story and I wanted to share an excerpt from it with you (attached below). I would be honoured if you let me know your comments on it.

    I would be lying if I said that she had no influence on me. She was the one who taught me the pleasure of doing something to my slave without any reason other than just because I can. As much as this sounds like blindingly obvious given my desire to control, it is not. I can still remember how I felt the first time I applied this idea. It was a Tuesday night. We were both pretty tired after a long day at work. I was watching TV while he was reading a magazine (yes we have a normal, vanilla life too). We were both quite bored. Suddenly it occurred to me that it was the perfect time. He had been performing all his tasks to perfection for a while, and I had every reason to be absolutely satisfied with his performance. I felt something shiver in me. With an ice-cold voice, that I would usually use during punishment sessions, I ordered him to go to the playroom. His astonishment was apparent, with a hint of disappointment. Poor thing probably was thinking that he was about to be punished for something he failed to do. You see, he takes pride in his slavery to me and always strives to be the best slave he can be, whatever the conditions… Knowing that I never tolerate questioning of my orders, he coyly made his way to the playroom. Oh, I should have told you: unless ordered otherwise, he has to follow a very specific routine for entering the playroom. Upon receiving the order to go there, he has exactly two minutes to go to the bedroom, get naked, neatly fold his clothes and place them on the ground, get on his hands and knees, and then crawl to the playroom. He cannot enter the playroom by himself. Only I can take him in. Likewise, only I can take him out. Disobeying this order, except in cases of emergency, is expressly forbidden. When in the playroom, he is not allowed to stand up, unless he is given the permission or order to do so. Likewise, once inside the playroom, he has no right to talk, unless asked to.

    The playroom did not exist before him. There was no reason to either, because none of my earlier subs or slaves would offer themselves to me like he did. The playroom is our secret place, where my creative ideas meet his body and mind. I had him build it step by step according to my desires. The first thing was, obviously, sound proofing. The rest followed slowly. That day, all I needed was to tie his hands to the iron hook attached to the ceiling. The hook comes in very handy for extended predicament bondage and impact play. Using a remote control, I can adjust its height. I like to raise it to a level where he can only stand on his toes. And then the fun begins…

    So, I go to the playroom, and he is in front of the door, on his hands and knees, waiting for me. I open the door and coldly tell him to crawl in and stop in the middle of the room. I was taking everything very slowly, to add to the suspension and also because I was already enjoying every second of it. Then I tell him to stand up and present his hands to me. Without looking into his eyes, I tie his wrists and attach them to the hook. Within seconds, he is on his toes, his body stretched. In anticipation of what was to come and also due the disappointment of having failed me, his eyes were already teary.

    And then begins the rawest domination experience I have ever had: I briefly explain to him that I am very happy with him, and his performance is worth any reward a slave can think of. In his puzzlement, I look deep into his eyes, and pressing on every syllable I tell him “but tonight, I will whip you just because I can.” The rest is history. A very violent one. I worked on him with my single-tail whip, without any warm-up at all. Within 20 minutes, he was thoroughly trashed. I was still a bit lenient on him and saved his buttocks. After all, he has an office job, and has to be able to sit on a chair… This was not the first time he was so viciously whipped. But it was the first time that it came without any warning. And one more thing that delighted me: even during very harsh corporal punishment sessions, his penis would always get erect, at least for a while. This time it was completely limp. I was feeling aroused, proud, happy and at the pinnacle of my authority over him. He was just utterly broken. Not his first time, but it had rarely happened with such intensity before. He was so shaken that when I released him from the hook he failed to get on his hands and knees, a first time for him. Without thinking I took several steps back and gave him a hard blow on his bottom with the whip. He turned towards me, in total confusion not knowing what to do. This was followed by another hard blow, this time flat around his nipple area (it was particularly beautiful… the angle of the blow was such that the tail of the whip got wrapped around his back. I remember looking at and admiring that stripe in the following days). I coldly and firmly ordered him to kneel down. Finally he got it and was on his knees. He was just on the edge of breaking into tears. I slowly walked towards him, and sat on his back. I had my jeans on, the ones I wear at home. I shifted my weight several times, rubbing my bottom on his back on purpose. I bet he never knew how much this could hurt his fresh stripes. I spoke in a softer tone. “I know deep down you enjoyed it. I know that after today, you will never look at me in the same old way again. I know from today onwards you will always be ready to be on the receiving end of whatever I feel like dishing at you, just because I can. I know deep down you want it. Deep down you enjoy it. Don’t you?” It took him a few seconds to compose himself and answer. A simple “yes Mistress.” I continued: “we will talk about tonight in the coming days, analyse it thoroughly. You know I can get into your mind and unearth the secrets that you even keep from yourself. But I think we are both satisfied for tonight.” I stood up, offered him my whip so that he could kiss it (part of the standard routine), then hung the whip on the wall, and stood in front of him, making sure that he was looking directly at my feet. I waited for a few moments for him to appreciate them in my flip flops. “You know the best part, don’t you? The best part is, I have just thrashed you for no reason and not a fibre of you hates me for it. If anything, you are much more in awe of me than ever before. See my feet? I know you are dying to kiss them now. Look at them carefully. I want you to look at them very, very carefully. These are the feet of the woman who just beat you, just because she felt like it. These are the feet of the woman who will again do so whenever she feels like it. These are the feet of the woman who will make you do so many things which you think you will never do. These are my feet. And you are dying to kiss them.” I could feel that he was on the verge of breaking. “If you want to kiss them, you will have to beg.” Unbelievably, his desire to kiss my feet was so strong that he immediately started to beg to kiss my feet. I was not exactly surprised, but still amazed at seeing the strong drive of one’s fetishes. The feeling of power I was getting from the asymmetry between us was amazing. But the last blow was not yet dealt. He kept begging for probably a full minute. After a while, while he was still begging, I grabbed his right ear, pinching it between my thumb and index fingers, and pulled his ear up to make him face me. I looked him in the eye and coldly said: “No.” He was shattered but knew from experience that my decision was final. That was too much for him. “Not tonight. I want you to spend the rest of the night here, thinking about what just has happened, how you managed to reach a new low and were not even allowed to kiss my feet. Think about how much you have embarrassed yourself. No. You will kiss my feet tomorrow, after spending a full day at work, totally disoriented, thinking about what has happened. For now, this is all you get.” And then I slowly reached for the half-full ashtray standing on a coffee table, and dropped its contents onto the ground. Then I spat on the small mound of cigarette butts and ashes and walked off. Before leaving the room I turned towards him and pointing at the mound told him in a cold tone: “when I come back tomorrow morning, I do not want to see any trace of that. You will lick the floor and the ashtray perfectly clean. Next morning, if I am happy with what I see I will let you kiss my soles. Otherwise, … well use your imagination.” I switched the lights off and opened the door to leave the playroom. By the time I shut the door, he was already sobbing. I was feeling so powerful. A night I would never forget. And neither would he.

  3. fonseto says:

    Dear Mistress Scarlet:

    I’m just here for the first time reading Your blog, and i find it very compelling…
    My attention fell immediately to a phrase that got me very stirred a submissive…And I’m gonna quote it here, if I may, with all respect, Mistress…
    “Should I need to urinate, whether he is naked or in his boiler suit, he has to lay on his back on the lawn and I mark my territory – him!”.
    This is something that comes to mind as an action performed exactly for the right reason…A marking of Mistress’ territory inside out…I’m my modest opinion, the proper way to see it…
    In this same train of thought, Mistress Scarlet, I’d like to request Your permission to quote You in this phrase for a picture I’d like to post on Your Tumblr, if I may, Mistress…

  4. boot gimp says:

    hi Superior Mistress Scarlet, I have been meaning to comment on this post for a while but have been very busy. Firstly, I am honoured that You have adopted my Mistress’s favourite phrase of until further notice. This sends chills down my spine and fills me with dread and misery every time.

    The second reason I love this post is because of You making Your slaves audibly kiss the shoe soles. I love how this ensures more effort goes into the task. this reminded to something my Mistress has me do. sometime ago while worshiping her work shoes Mistress demanded that I snivel. I continued to lick and kiss but before long I was given a firm kick and a ‘I cant hear you snivelling’. I was very confused and asked what it was she wanted. she replied that she had no idea as she has had never snivelled, but I better learn quickly. for some reason in my desperate confusion I thought of a character ‘wormtail’ in the harry potter films who kind of whimpers, and overly flatters his master and kind of rings his hands. Mistress began using her crop on my behind while still demanding that I snivel. its very hard to describe but I began almost sniffing and sniffling as though almost crying, whimpering thank you mistress in a high voice, adding in things like I am not worthy, I am your humble slave’. I acted as though a cartoon rat and it was a hideous and humiliating experience. I must have eventually mastered snivelling as the crop stopped and I could hear Mistress laugh. at one point I must have fallen silent as I felt the crop hard and was told snivel meant until further notice.

    since then ‘snivelling’ has become a regular demand. getting into the mind frame is very difficult and horrifically humiliating. Of course this is irrelevant as I must be instantly audible when snivelling is demanded. Mistress soon then evolved this into her having the opportunity to verbally accost me for making such a pathetic noise. so at any time while snivelling She may demand ‘silence you snivelling weasel’, cant you even lick a shoe without whimpering?. I then have to apologise for my snivelling. eventually I will be accosted again for not snivelling and made to apologise to Mistress and the Shoe for my lack of respect before beginning the snivel again. this usually goes on for the length of Mistress’s chosen film. I totally hate ‘snivelling’ but I have no doubt it is here to stay.

    • Your Mistress is amazing. I know it takes very considerable dominance and power to have a submissive perform an activity construed of their own imagination. I know submissives hate this and considerable punishment is often required.

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