Monthly Archives: April 2019

The Dolls!

A blog follower asked for information about bitch-boy’s three dolls. A request which took me by surprise but I am happy to oblige.

His very first dolly I bought him, a little rag doll I named Likkel Dolly. Then I read a huge dolly makes your sissy little girl look, and possibly humiliatingly feel, more infantile and small, so I bought Suzette Simperkins; as I named her. He does his colouring-in with Suzette.

Then most recently I needed a dolly that could sit on a potty for Dolly-Potty-Time, so we now have Sally-No-Socks; as I named her.

Of course he has to talk to his dollies in whole sentences, always including names, and while lisping, so he says, Thuzette Thimperkinth and Thally-No-Thockth. I choose names with lots of the letter S in, because I make him lisp.

I included in the photo a clothes peg so the size of each doll is clear. (Suzette’s eyes are closed in the photo but they open when she is upright.)

 

The last journal detailing what goes on under my roof,

Link to Journal No. 12.

 

Make it a dick-stick for shame and frustration

In the course of my posts on dolly-potty-time, one comment was posted asking what a dick-stick is.

I had posted on this on 27 March 2014 and the link on that post was to a photo no longer available as it was on TUMBLR. So I have updated the link and supplied a very recent photo on my BDSMLR site. (The extra thickness of the shaft towards the base in the photo, is excessive tape, not his shaft being of larger diameter than just behind the head! I have since perfected the tape so the taped shaft is of a tiny diameter all the way to his stomach which is visually wonderful for me, and deeply shaming for him.)

To create his dick-stick I have him, in a flaccid state, pull his penis head away from his body as far as it will go, (under threat of severe punishment if he does not comply exactly). This makes the shaft become long and very, very thin. It actually becomes as long as it would when erect, around five and a half inches – but very, very thin. I then take some medical tape and wind it around, very tightly indeed,  starting just behind the head –  winding all the way to his stomach. The stretchy adhesive tape, pulled tight and wound around and around, makes for quite a ‘stiff’ organ which is very amusing indeed.

Obviously the result is hugely comical. He cannot get even the slightest erection, urination is painful or impossible and when the adhesive tape is removed the skin is sensitive and a little sore. Win – win – win – win.

So far I have limited the dick-stick treatment to about an hour as I wonder if longer could cause harm. I think I will up the duration to 1.5 hours soon as no harm  seems done with 1 hour.

The visual imagery when his wrists are secured behind his back and I handle the dick-stick and apply Deep Heat to the head, is beyond arousing! So helpless and vulnerable and USELESS as a sex organ!

 

 

 

Dolly Potty time a great success

You may recall a description of Dolly-Potty-Time in my blog post of 23 March 2019,  and also the sourcing of a practical adult potty looking like a babies potty in my blog post of 29 March 2019 .

Well I did buy the pink camping potty and removed the lid and handle and I bought a new dolly capable of sitting on a doll’s potty and of course I bought a doll’s potty.

I had bitch-boy undergo a deeply shaming and tedious Dolly-Potty-Time this week and he so deeply hated it. It was therefore a great success. I added a couple of my own ‘extras’ to the session too. (I have written a journal entry on the session for my latest journal. This latest journal will detail exclusively things that happen under my roof. I hope to publish this soon. There will be a further journal on The Institute published some time shortly after that.)

The point of this post is to mention, in case others consider buying the pink camping potty as part of a shaming routine for their little puppets, that the seat is very hard and not ideally shaped, so after about 45 minutes, the pain of the seat for bitch-boy overtook his humiliation and tedium. Not what I wanted. However the potty is, I think, the best thing on the market at the moment for the purpose I intend.

In order to ensure I can put bitch-boy through literally hours and hours of shaming tedium, (perhaps eight hours to start), I am planning a day where he spends 40 minutes enduring Dolly-Potty-Time with his new dolly, Sally-no-socks, then switch to an hour of colouring-in with his dolly, Suzette Simperkins, on his comfortable little chair. Then back to Dolly-Potty-Time then back to colouring-in with his dolly, and alternate from one activity to the other, all day!

I am gathering together foreign language, subtitled box sets and movies and a good novel and some craft activities so I have plenty to do in the gaps between bringing myself off, as his misery repeatedly arouses me.

 

My latest journal.

Volume 13: The Institute, Click on any link below:

Lulu.com –

Paperback version,       ePub version,

Amazon Kindle –

USA,    UK, 

DE,    FR,    ES,    IT,    NL,    JP,    BR,    CA,    MX,    AU,    IN, 

Nook – Barnes and Noble

 

 

The last journal detailing what goes on under my roof,

Link to Journal No. 12.

 

 

A truly bitch monologue!

Well I am currently finishing writing a journal with subject matter like my more usual journals. All about events under my roof. A couple of years ago I seemed to have got into a fixed routine of activities and routines of use and abuse of bitch-boy that I truly adored and thought could not be bettered. Writing journal entries seemed pointless as they would be a repeating loop of the same things.

BUT, over the last six months I have discovered and begun all sorts on new things. Some of which involve new equipment. So I have been recording these events. Below is an excerpt from a journal entry I have just finished. I can’t wait to finish the whole journal.

—– | —–

Having given him my detailed instructions, I could not help indulging in some verbal mocking immediately. While he still knelt on the floor in front of where I sat on the sofa sipping from a glass of white wine.

        ‘All those pleasurable blow jobs to watch bitch-boy. It’s not going to be pleasurable for you though is it? Seeing all those cocks so much bigger than your little birth defect. And do you remember how blow jobs felt? Just think about when we first met. You spent so much time diligently with your head between my thighs, and gave me so, so many orgasms, I just felt the obligation to reciprocate from time to time. Nothing like how often you orally serviced me, but can you remember when I did. My hot wet mouth, that hard rhythmic sucking, those mind blowing orgasms inside my mouth. That must be nearly twenty years ago. I can’t imagine you remember just how good that felt; perhaps you do.

 Then you told me all about femdom and I took to it like a duck to water. But even then, for a few years, I used to have your little birth defect inside my mouth and between my soft lips; just to tease you as part of tease and denial. Sometimes doing that as a precursor to bringing you off with my skilled hands. Fucking was over for you by then wasn’t it. Over for the rest of your life, although you did not know that then did you; little born-again-virgin that you now are.’ I paused from talking at him to take a sip of my wine. He was looking so sad and wistful. Perhaps he had not taken time recently, or ever, to consider the heavy cost to his own pleasure that telling me about femdom had brought him. I was far from finished though. I was on a roll and my pitiless bitchiness was making my cunt wet into the bargain. Perhaps I had never thought fully about the heavy cost to his own

        ‘All those pleasurable blow jobs to watch bitch-boy. It’s not going to be pleasurable for you though is it? Seeing all those cocks so much bigger than your little birth defect. And do you remember how blow jobs felt? Just think about when we first met. You spent so much time diligently with your head between my thighs, and gave me so, so many orgasms, I just felt the obligation to reciprocate from time to time. Nothing like how often you orally serviced me, but can you remember when I did. My hot wet mouth, that hard rhythmic sucking, those mind blowing orgasms inside my mouth. That must be nearly twenty years ago. I can’t imagine you remember just how good that felt; perhaps you do.

 Then you told me all about femdom and I took to it like a duck to water. But even then, for a few years, I used to have your little birth defect inside my mouth and between my soft lips; just to tease you as part of tease and denial. Sometimes doing that as a precursor to bringing you off with my skilled hands. Fucking was over for you by then wasn’t it. Over for the rest of your life, although you did not know that then did you; little born-again-virgin that you now are.’ I paused from talking at him to take a sip of my wine. He was looking so sad and wistful. Perhaps he had not taken time recently, or ever, to consider the heavy cost to his own pleasure that telling me about femdom had brought him. I was far from finished though. I was on a roll and my pitiless bitchiness was making  pleasure I had imposed. I carried on, thoroughly enjoying myself.

        ‘So, the next stage was your little birth defect never ever entering my soft lips wasn’t it. How long ago was the last time I wonder. If only I had known at the time and written it down. Perhaps five years ago, probably more like seven or eight. But there was more for you to be denied from wasn’t there. Our current situation! Since the beginning of March, what’s that, six weeks ago? All your orgasms, if we can call them that, have been under the sole of one of my shoes with me standing on my wonderful stomping stage. (Blog post, 9 March, 2019).

 There have been no more orgasms from my skilful, elegant hands since I started with the stomping stage have there. My skilful hands, one wrapped tightly around your little birth defect and the other tickling your sensitive shaved balls. And with my hand I can keep that orgasm pleasure going for so long can’t I. But it’s six weeks now. Perhaps that will be forever.

 Perhaps you have had your last ever orgasm from my skilful, elegant hands. Imagine that. If from now on, it’s always and only under the sole of one of my elegant shoes, or a sweaty gym shoe, or an Ugg boot slipper, or even a muddy walking boot.’ He sighed a deathly sigh and looked up at me, his face a picture of pleading and hurt. He wisely stayed silent though. He knew a pleading word from him might cause me to make a snap decision he would SERIOUSLY regret. And he has learned that when my depravity ratchet clicks, it never un-clicks! I took another sip of wine and continued.

        ‘I looked at the calendar. I have the date of the last time I used my skilful, elegant hands rather than the sole of my shoe. The fourth of March. The fourth of March twenty-nineteen. Might that turn out to be the last time you came other than under the sole of one of my shoes? I wonder.’ He was breathing hard now with deep emotion in those breaths. I still had not finished. Time for a recap.

         ‘So what has happened, looking back. First, full-on blow jobs ended FOREVER. Next, fucking ended FOREVER. Next, your birth defect going into my mouth ended FOREVER. Now, have orgasms from my skilful hands ended FOREVER?’ I left the question hanging, took another sip of wine and wound things up.

         ‘Well, where did all that reminiscing come from when I simply began by giving you instructions for making a big cock, deep-throat, blow-job compilation DVD? What a strange turn of events. I’ve finished now though. So fuck off to the kitchen and prepare my evening meal. Plenty for you to think about while you are prepping and cooking.’ As he stood up, I made sure he saw my pick up my massager vibrator. I was far from ashamed that my mean, bitchy monologue and my nasty threat had aroused me a great deal. In his tight penis cage, while he was prepping and cooking, he would be able to think about me bringing myself off to a delicious orgasm as well as thinking about my mean, bitchy monologue and my nasty threat.

 

My latest journal.

Volume 13: The Institute, Click on any link below:

Lulu.com –

Paperback version,       ePub version,

Amazon Kindle –

USA,    UK, 

DE,    FR,    ES,    IT,    NL,    JP,    BR,    CA,    MX,    AU,    IN, 

Nook – Barnes and Noble

 

Suzette Faggott letters published!

Follow THIS LINK for the historic letters about Suzette Faggott. Ms GP was quite some lifestyle Mistress!

The page is found by clicking on the tab at the top of the home page entitled Dommes’ Letters which brings up a drop-down menu.

bitch-boy had to put a lot of grunt work in just to get them to this level of organisation. I could not spare any more of his time to go further.

Should anyone have any of the missing letters, please contact me with a comment so I can add to this archive.

Enjoy!