My Journals

I am struggling to keep up with channels of distribution! Below are links to my written works. I hope you find this useful. It has taken bitch-boy a long time to do the donkey work to pull this post together satisfactorily, (oh how he regretted his first inadequate attempt!! before I signed it off.) How does one get tedious jobs done without a slave???

In addition to the links below, the books are also available in the iTunes Book Store for iPad, iPhone/iPod Touch, Android, PC, or Mac. Search for Mistress Scarlet.

Journal, Volume 1

PaperbackEPUB for Adobe Digital Editions reader – PDF

Kindle UK   Kindle US    Kindle FR   Kindle DE   Kindle IT   Kindle ES  Kindle CA

iBooks / iTunes Store – for iPad, iPhone, iPod Touch, Android, PC, or Mac – found by searching for Mistress Scarlet in the store.

And also available on Barnes & Noble .

.

Journal, Volume 2

PaperbackEPUB for Adobe Digital Editions reader   – PDF

Kindle UK   Kindle US   Kindle Fr   Kindle DE  Kindle IT   Kindle ES  Kindle CA

iBooks / iTunes Store – for iPad, iPhone, iPod Touch, Android, PC, or Mac – found by searching for Mistress Scarlet in the store.

And also available on Barnes & Noble .

.

Journal, Volume 3

PaperbackEPUB  for Adobe Digital Editions reader – PDF

Kindle UK    Kindle US   Kindle Fr   Kindle DE    Kindle IT    Kindle ES   Kindle CA

iBooks / iTunes Store – for iPad, iPhone, iPod Touch, Android, PC, or Mac – found by searching for Mistress Scarlet in the store.

And also available on Barnes & Noble.

.

Journal, Volume 4

Lulu.com paperback — Lulu.com Epub version —

Kindle USKindle UKKindle DE,      Kindle FR,     Kindle ES,      Kindle IT,   Kindle CA,

iBooks / iTunes Store – for iPad, iPhone, iPod Touch, Android, PC, or Mac – found by searching for Mistress Scarlet in the store.

And also available on Barnes & Noble .

.

Journal, Volume 5

Lulu.com paperback — Lulu.com Epub version 

Kindle USKindle UKKindle DE,      Kindle FR,     Kindle ES,      Kindle IT,   Kindle CA,

iBooks / iTunes Store – for iPad, iPhone, iPod Touch, Android, PC, or Mac – found by searching for Mistress Scarlet in the store.

And also available on Barnes & Noble .

.

.

Journal, Volume 6

All links

.

Journal, Volume 7

All links

.

Journal, Volume 8

All links

.

Journal, Volume 9

Kindle

Lulu.com

.

Journal, Volume 10

 ePub or as a paperback.

It is also published on Amazon Kindle.

US. UK. DE. FR. ES. IT. NL. JP. BR. CA. MX. AU. IN.

Amazon V10 copy - Copy

.

Short Stories,

PaperbackEPUB for Adobe Digital Editions reader

Kindle UK   Kindle US   Kindle Fr   Kindle DE   Kindle IT   Kindle ES  Kindle CA

iBooks / iTunes Store – for iPad, iPhone, iPod Touch, Android, PC, or Mac – found by searching for Mistress Scarlet in the store.

And also available on Barnes & Noble .

.

Here is a brief precis of each story.

A CASUALTY OF THE WAR

16 year old orphan Hilary is decanted out of London to avoid Hitler’s bombing. His destination is a house of five females; two women and three daughters. They had expected to receive a girl, not a boy.

ABSOLUTE POWER CORRUPTS ABSOLUTELY

Gloria and Elles were both employed in the young entrepreneur’s hi-tech business. Unless he is taken under some control, their own blissful future could be in jeopardy.

THREE SET OFF FOR A HOLIDAY FOR TWO

Mistress decides to experiment with a female submissive to augment her enchanting life with her boy-toy.

THE LIVING GIFT

Jearl is of black Caribbean ancestry. Her husband will be away a great deal with his new job. Jearl’s use and abuse knows no bounds with her new gift.

THE TUITION OF A VICTORIAN GENTLEMAN

A new governess arrives to take care of Edwin while his parents are abroad. The governess does not believe in sparing the rod, or in young masters possessing arrogant male
pride.

THE WEB OF THE SPOILT SPIDER

Beautiful Jessica settles into university life quickly but she has always been spoilt and
cannot bring herself to partake in her share of the chore rota drawn up by her room-mate. An unwitting solution presents himself.

.

HERE ARE A COUPLE OF EXCERPTS FROM VOLUME 2 of my Journals

Excerpt 1.. ………..Leaving the bed for my final experiment, I inserted the butt plug electrode inside him and connected it to channel B. ‘B’ for butt plug I thought to myself. I removed his gag and secured him on his knees in front of me, with his wrists and elbows bound behind his back. I pushed his head down to the floor and set the channel A dial to begin delivering moderate shocks to his genitals.

‘Beg me to stop then bitch-boy.’ He immediately began begging sweetly, his face directed at my shoes. I however, wanted more passion from him so I upped the power. Satisfyingly, more passion in his begging was the result. I turned the power up a little more and smiled as his begging began to take on a panic-stricken quality. After another 30 seconds I dropped the power to zero. It was immensely decadent and pleasurable to look down at him, kneeling at my feet while he breathed-in large gulps of air. I had not finished however. For the first time, I turned up the power on dial B. He began to make distraught gasping sounds and then began his begging again.

‘No I don’t want begging now. I want you to start kissing the ground I walk on. When I can clearly hear you ardently and passionately kissing the ground I walk on, I will turn off the power.’ What a sight he made as I looked down at him, kissing the polished floorboards between my shoes while, every second or so, his body convulsed a little with the shocks. Just for fun I turned up the power briefly and his kissing, as a few moments ago, again took on a distorted, panic-stricken style which caused me to laugh out loud. Finally I turned off the power and sat down on the bed with my toned thighs splayed wide apart. He knelt between them. He looked exhausted which was understandable given he had suffered over an hour of various types of electrical shocks to his penis, without any sort of break.

If you lick me conscientiously to a very nice orgasm, I will leave the power off and your ordeal is over for today. If not, woe betide you. Oh and by the way, you will not be cumming today.’ With the wires trailing up his back to the unit at my side, his gentle kisses worked their way up and down the inside of one thigh and then the inside of the other before he moved delicately to my clit. His level of reverence and diligence was a delight and I quickly moved to a very, very powerful orgasm.

Excerpt 2 .. I had purchased a DVD Nadine and I particularly wanted to watch and tonight was the night to watch it. While bitch-boy tidied in the kitchen, having prepared and served our wonderful evening meal in which he did not get to partake, we retired to the sitting room and sat next to each other on the sofa. We both wore pleated mini-skirts, high heeled mules and angora sweaters. My skirt was cream and my sweater was sky blue. Nadine’s skirt was bottle green and her sweater was black. We sat with our legs up on a leather pouffe, entwined together. We held hands and occasionally ran our hands around each others’ torsos; enjoying the feel of the soft wool and the shapes of the firm body underneath. The logs occasionally crackled in the log burning stove and the light flickered with the flames. I asked Nadine if there was anything she wanted bitch-boy to do while we watched the DVD. She, a little coyly, admitted she had concocted a nasty little game for bitch-boy to play and given he had not cum for 18 days, it would be a good time to play the game. Bitch-boy joined us. Observing our appearance and mutual caressing must have been sheer torture for the denied and frustrated bitch-boy.

Over the years I have amassed a collection of over 30 small padlocks, used for various bondage arrangements and fetish equipment. Each padlock sports a unique pair of nail varnish dots and its keys have matching dots, so I always know which keys go with which padlocks should they become separated. Setting the game up involved locking bitch-boy’s penis restraint in place with a fresh padlock, the varnish dots on which were obscured with a piece of masking tape. He was stripped naked, his wrists bound behind his back and ankles cuffed together with a six inch chain. A bungee cord with a hook at each end was stretched from the centre of the chain between his ankles to a strap secured tightly around his scrotum so he could kneel and crawl but each movement pulled at his balls. While Nadine had applied the bondage items, I set out 30 small padlock keys around the house, upstairs and downstairs; some on the floor, some on coffers and coffee tables. Some of the keys were coated in the bitter fluid used to prevent people biting their finger nails. Some keys lay in a puddle of my fresh urine in a saucer. Distributing the keys around the house was Nadine’s idea and part of her game. The nail biting fluid and urine were my ideas. Rejoining Nadine in the sitting room, …………………………………………….

 

Two excerpts from Volume 1 of my published diaries below:

The first volume of my journals recounting my day to day life as a dominant wife has been published on Lulu.com as an ebook; £5.95 ($8.99) (Euro 7.17)  LINK

or paperback £7.94 ($11.99) (Euro 9.56) or PDF download £5.95 ($8.99) (Euro 7.17) LINK

Paypal can be used. Exchange rates as of 10 February 2011.

Here are a couple of excerpts from Volume 1.

EXCERPT 1      ……. Helen arrived, filling the house with the scent of Chanel Number Five. Alice served tea and warm scones with butter and jam while she and I made disparaging remarks about him and had a generally amusing time at his expense. I also gave him three on each palm with the tawse for getting some crumbs on the table cloth, after which he had to kneel down and kiss each of my shoes, thanking me for taking the trouble to punish him so that he might become a better maid. Helen wore a lavender coloured linen suit and plum coloured high heeled court shoes. Her long straight blond hair was parted at the centre and dangling ear rings occasionally peeped out. She had full feminine lips, painted with a ruby red. She also had very, very long square cut, French polished finger nails. I remarked on her beautiful nails and she responded that when one never has to lift a finger in house or garden or supermarket, it was easy to maintain long nails.  Helen had a full figure, unlike my slim athletic body, but it filled her fitted suit with very attractive feminine curves.

Once the tea was finished Helen and I retired to the sofa in the drawing room, each with a glass of chilled white wine. Alice was instructed to stand with her nose against the wall. The sun continued to shine in through the freshly cleaned windows and occasionally bird song filled a momentary pause in our conversation.  I grinned wickedly and asked Helen if she would like some live entertainment. Alice let out a quiet sigh of despair. Helen looked at him smiling cruelly and said that some entertainment sounded like a wonderful idea.

‘Well Alice, go upstairs and get changed. I want Belinda Jane standing in front of me in five minutes. And she had better have her dummy in her mouth and be holding her dolly, if she knows what’s good for her. Oh and I think a pair of your plain pink school girl knickers. ’ Alice hesitated with head bowed.

‘Don’t hesitate Alice, off you go, or would you like some more of the tawse to help you along your way?’ Alice looked imploringly at me and I returned a cruel resolute stare. He could see there was to be no mercy and so he curtseyed and reluctantly left the room.

After six minutes I headed off towards the stairs to find the overdue Belinda Jane. I found him in the hall. He was properly dressed and ready but he had not had the courage to actually enter the room looking as he did. I just laughed and began to lead him by his wrist towards the lounge. He asked if he could go to the toilet but, with malice aforethought, I said it would not be fair to delay Helen’s entertainment any longer.

Belinda Jane was actually trembling with humiliation as he stood in front of his smiling, laughing tormentors while Helen commented on how utterly ridiculous he looked. Despite imploring looks for mercy to me, I made him perform several nursery rhymes, with actions including Little Bo Peep and Little Miss Muffett while Helen and I both laughed loudly and cruelly. He then received three with the tawse to the back of each thigh for failing to lisp a few words and so he then had to repeat the rhymes again. He was utterly crushed by the end of his performance. All pride and resistance eradicated. I stood and advised Helen I would only be a minute and walked out of the room. As I was leaving I had to smile as I heard Helen harshly instructing Belinda Jane to get his chin up off his chest, look her in the eye, and describe to her in fine detail what he was wearing, without forgetting to lisp.

I returned with two jugs full of liquid, a baby’s feeding cup and a folded towel. Belinda Jane gasped and whispered,

‘Pleath no Mithtreth, pleath, pleath.’

‘Silence Belinda, you will speak when you are spoken to.’ Helen looked confused realising the items signalled something dreadful for Belinda Jane but not knowing what that was.

I explained to Helen that the large jug contained cold water and the smaller my fresh urine. I then went on to explain that Belinda Jane would be performing another little act for us that afternoon. I placed the folded towel on the slate floor in front of the sofa and instructed a, now close to tears, Belinda to stand on it. I then filled the feeding cup with two thirds water, one third urine and passed it to Belinda who, knowing the ritual that he must follow, reluctantly began to consume its contents. The feeding cup is actually for use by dementia suffers and purchased by me on the internet. Using dishwasher proof glass paint, I had bitch-boy paint on some pretty hearts and sweet teddy bears to my exacting specification.  The feeding bottle was refilled again and again

Helen arrived, filling the house with the scent of Chanel Number Five. Alice served tea and warm scones with butter and jam while she and I made disparaging remarks about him and had a generally amusing time at his expense. I also gave him three on each palm with the tawse for getting some crumbs on the table cloth, after which he had to kneel down and kiss each of my shoes, thanking me for taking the trouble to punish him so that he might become a better maid. Helen wore a lavender coloured linen suit and plum coloured high heeled court shoes. Her long straight blond hair was parted at the centre and dangling ear rings occasionally peeped out. She had full feminine lips, painted with a ruby red. She also had very, very long square cut, French polished finger nails. I remarked on her beautiful nails and she responded that when one never has to lift a finger in house or garden or supermarket, it was easy to maintain long nails.  Helen had a full figure, unlike my slim athletic body, but it filled her fitted suit with very attractive feminine curves.

Once the tea was finished Helen and I retired to the sofa in the drawing room, each with a glass of chilled white wine. Alice was instructed to stand with her nose against the wall. The sun continued to shine in through the freshly cleaned windows and occasionally bird song filled a momentary pause in our conversation.  I grinned wickedly and asked Helen if she would like some live entertainment. Alice let out a quiet sigh of despair. Helen looked at him smiling cruelly and said that some entertainment sounded like a wonderful idea.

‘Well Alice, go upstairs and get changed. I want Belinda Jane standing in front of me in five minutes. And she had better have her dummy in her mouth and be holding her dolly, if she knows what’s good for her. Oh and I think a pair of your plain pink school girl knickers. ’ Alice hesitated with head bowed.

‘Don’t hesitate Alice, off you go, or would you like some more of the tawse to help you along your way?’ Alice looked imploringly at me and I returned a cruel resolute stare. He could see there was to be no mercy and so he curtseyed and reluctantly left the room.

After six minutes I headed off towards the stairs to find the overdue Belinda Jane. I found him in the hall. He was properly dressed and ready but he had not had the courage to actually enter the room looking as he did. I just laughed and began to lead him by his wrist towards the lounge. He asked if he could go to the toilet but, with malice aforethought, I said it would not be fair to delay Helen’s entertainment any longer.

Belinda Jane was actually trembling with humiliation as he stood in front of his smiling, laughing tormentors while Helen commented on how utterly ridiculous he looked. Despite imploring looks for mercy to me, I made him perform several nursery rhymes, with actions including Little Bo Peep and Little Miss Muffett while Helen and I both laughed loudly and cruelly. He then received three with the tawse to the back of each thigh for failing to lisp a few words and so he then had to repeat the rhymes again. He was utterly crushed by the end of his performance. All pride and resistance eradicated. I stood and advised Helen I would only be a minute and walked out of the room. As I was leaving I had to smile as I heard Helen harshly instructing Belinda Jane to get his chin up off his chest, look her in the eye, and describe to her in fine detail what he was wearing, without forgetting to lisp.

I returned with two jugs full of liquid, a baby’s feeding cup and a folded towel. Belinda Jane gasped and whispered,

‘Pleath no Mithtreth, pleath, pleath.’

‘Silence Belinda, you will speak when you are spoken to.’ Helen looked confused realising the items signalled something dreadful for Belinda Jane but not knowing what that was.

I explained to Helen that the large jug contained cold water and the smaller my fresh urine. I then went on to explain that Belinda Jane would be performing another little act for us that afternoon. I placed the folded towel on the slate floor in front of the sofa and instructed a, now close to tears, Belinda to stand on it. I then filled the feeding cup with two thirds water, one third urine and passed it to Belinda who, knowing the ritual that he must follow, reluctantly began to consume its contents. The feeding cup is actually for use by dementia suffers and purchased by me on the internet. Using dishwasher proof glass paint, I had bitch-boy paint on some pretty hearts and sweet teddy bears to my exacting specification.  The feeding bottle was refilled again and again ………..

EXCERPT 2     ……. When there are physical chores to be done, one of the roles I like to employ for bitch-boy is that of sub human slave. This is akin to a theme of slaves in Roman times. After breakfast and a shower I announced to bitch-boy that I required use of the sub-human slave. He looked frightened and so he should. I like my sub-human slave to experience the most degrading and menial drudgery and harsh punishment for infractions. It gives me a very pleasurable feeling of extreme superiority to generate and sustain such a marked difference in our status.

I had him strip naked except for the penis restraint which is padlocked through his frenum piercing. I fitted on him a heavy leather collar and wrist cuffs and padlocked each in place. Finally I made him put on a pair of dark brown gladiator sandals. I was wearing olive coloured, very tight, jodhpurs, tucked into brown high heeled boots. I also wore an expensive cream silk blouse, tucked into the jodhpurs. I wore a belt of wide chain loops and I stored several small padlocks, with their keys, in some of the belt loops. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail and I dripped with jewellery.

I always start a sub-human slave period with a deterrent whipping. Secured over my dining table, I swished my long, thin crop through the air a few times, watching for the faintest twitch from him in response. I allowed the crop to hang from my wrist by its handle loop of soft leather.
‘You are a slave with no name until I tell you otherwise. Your slave number is 721.’ I lifted his head by the hair and, with a marker pen, I wrote the numbers onto his forehead. I also wrote the numbers onto his right forearm.
‘So, slave 721, I need to ensure obedience from your servitude and I am going to do so by whipping you now, a deterrent whipping, so that you will know what to expect should you be foolish enough as to transgress.’  He uttered the first syllable of a begging word and in a shout I cut him dead.
‘Silence! You never, ever speak unless directly ordered to do so! For that impertinence, you will receive a punishment whipping directly after your deterrent whipping.’ After about ten minutes of whipping he was whimpering. I paused.
‘That was your deterrent punishment. Now it is time for your punishment for speaking without instruction to do so.’ I resumed with the whip. I wanted him in absolutely no doubt as to the consequences of any misconduct or disobedience. I achieved my goal and momentarily studied his bound and sobbing form. The sadistic pleasure from administering the whipping, combined with the image of his misery and with thoughts of the day ahead, filled me with an overwhelming desire for an orgasm. Leaving him where he was, I lowered my jodhpurs and sat in a comfortable chair out of his sight, but within earshot and I brought myself quickly, to a wonderful orgasm. I lazed in the afterglow for a while studying the red marks on his rump. Having fully recovered, I released him from his bonds and while doing so reminded him that I was an unashamed sadist and he would do well to remember that when conducting himself in his drudgery.

I set him to work with a bowl of water with a little detergent and a small toothbrush cleaning the slate floor of the kitchen. I knew from experience that this would take him at least two hours to do properly. From time to time, during the several, lengthy enjoyable phone calls I made in that time, I wandered around the room in which he worked, my heels clicking ominously with each step. I ignored him completely. I was pleased to observe that his fear of me ensured that he simply continued his tedious task without a pause. At the end of the morning I urinated in a jug and instructed him to crawl after me as I led him to the patio, just outside the back door. A low bright sun occasionally peeped between the fast moving clouds. I told him to kneel facing me, hands behind his back. He noticed the jug and looked most disconcerted. I knew he knew what it contained. Without further ado, I very slowly poured the contents of the jug over his head. The momentary scent of ammonia drifted away in the breeze as a squall of dry brown leaves rustled as they circled in the corner of the patio before settling on the flagstones when the breeze faded away.
‘You can kneel there until you dry.’ I left him outside in the stiff October wind for five minutes and then had him crawl back to the kitchen to resume his floor cleaning; now smelling slightly of my precious nectar, which had dried on him apart from his still wet hair which was yet to dry. The repetitive, back and forth, brushing sound of the toothbrush being worked over the slate floor slabs filled me with cruel satisfaction and amusement as I relaxed on the sofa flicking through a magazine……….. END OF EXCERPTS

36 Responses to My Journals

  1. Pingback: Spikes | Real Life Female Domination

  2. Pingback: Nook books | Real Life Female Domination

  3. click says:

    This is often a excellent site, would you be interested in going through an interview about just how you made it? If so e-mail me personally!

  4. Pingback: My Journal Number 4 is published | Real Life Female Domination

  5. high heels says:

    Hi there very nice website!! Man .. Excellent .. Wonderful .. I will bookmark your site and take the feeds also?I am glad to find so many helpful info here within the put up, we want develop extra strategies in this regard, thanks for sharing. . . . . .

  6. Fluffy says:

    I so love read about bitch boy doing his chores for you Ms Scarlett and when he licks the soles of your guests shoes and the fun things you feed him🙂
    Please let us know more!

  7. Garz says:

    Hi Mistress, its nice to establish who is in charge, but I wonder if u couldn’t get the floor scrubbed cleaner with a larger brush such as at least a fingernail brush because the brush must hold enough water and soap and contain stiffer bristles than a toothbrush could ever have. Of course slave could still spend two hours on it but the results would yield a more though job. Does he wear a butt plug while serving as a maid?

    • Having seen the results using a toothbrush, I do not see how it could be cleaner so I think you are wrong in your wondering. Yes he often wears a butt plug when serving as a maid. I deal with this in my published journals.

  8. zacary says:

    dear mistress scarlet if i may suggest a game you and your sisters ( friends ) could have with bb . each of the mistresses fill up a whole glass of urine with a very thin straw in each of the glasses and have bb restrained on his knees with the electrode up his ass , then let him have a taste of each glass and telling him to who it belongs, then have him blind folded then give him a sip from a glass and let him guess to whom it belongs and if he makes a wrong guess he gets the electricity punishment with extra canning punishment if he doesn’t guess your precious nectar right ( considering all the gallons of your urine he had to consume through the years it must be like mothers milk to him….) and when you are board of him you can all settle down comfortably enjoying fine wine and order him to enjoy the remaining urine through the thin straws while you all totally ignore him except for the occasional comment ” tastes good..??” ” ready for seconds” etc… please mistress eagerly awaiting your reply if you like the idea.

    • The principle of the game sounds appealing. It may need some practical amendments. Out of interest, the taste of my nectar is not consistent, sometimes being very strong and other times much less so, (I have established this from my interrogations of him.) I am not therefore sure bb would be able to distinguish it from other woman’s nectar.

  9. Pingback: Bitch Boy – Female Dominance | Candy Love Trap

  10. Pingback: Journal Volume 9, Distribution restrictions | Real Life Female Domination

  11. Pingback: Teasing, Denial and Fretting | Real Life Female Domination

  12. Pingback: Volume 10 of my journals is published | Real Life Female Domination

  13. Pingback: How heartless I can be | Real Life Female Domination

  14. Pingback: On Barnes and Noble and thoughts on writing journals | Real Life Female Domination

  15. Pingback: Fretting Pose | Real Life Female Domination

  16. Pingback: Femdom Literature | Real Life Female Domination

  17. Pingback: Domination Guidance Manual | Real Life Female Domination

  18. Pingback: Footwear and defenceless cocks- Part 2 | Real Life Female Domination

  19. Pingback: Nurse Nasty has a new device | Real Life Female Domination

  20. Pingback: Appallingly Painful Palms | Real Life Female Domination

  21. Pingback: Easy But Extreme Humiliation and Control | Real Life Female Domination

  22. Pingback: Grown males crying with misery | Real Life Female Domination

  23. Pingback: Degrading with urine – Literature | Real Life Female Domination

  24. Pingback: Teased and humiliated at leisure | Real Life Female Domination

  25. Pingback: Real Life Femdom Accounts | Real Life Female Domination

  26. Pingback: Worse than CFNM or CDNS | Real Life Female Domination

  27. Pingback: Stinging Nettles Expertise (Photo) | Real Life Female Domination

  28. Pingback: Serious Bondage | Real Life Female Domination

  29. Pingback: bespoke lockable pacifier strap | Real Life Female Domination

  30. Pingback: Humiliation With Thrift | Real Life Female Domination

  31. Pingback: Relaxed, Unembarrassed Sadism- Part 2 | Real Life Female Domination

  32. Pingback: Submissive by parasite | Real Life Female Domination

  33. Pingback: Hidden Domination Equipment | Real Life Female Domination

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s