Tag Archives: adult baby

Real life, long term FLRs

I have noticed that a lot of blog followers really enjoy accounts of REAL LIFE, LONG TERM Femdom relationships. That had me thinking about the email interactions I have had in the past years with Dommes in a real life, long term, relationship. I have enjoyed many interactions over the years. They usually begin with the Domme seeking a little advice, there is a few weeks or months of exchanges, (usually fascinating for me), and then the interaction drifts away and ends. I sometimes would love an update but I never seek one. I am content that people move on.

I provide a link below to some exchanges I posted in 2014, as I am sure many of you were not reading my blog then and so are unlikely to have read this material. It goes without saying that I would love an update from those involved six years on. I guess by posting this I have opened the possibility.

Link to my blog post of 2014

The two reasons I began this blog were 1), I wanted to facilitate more women creating symbiotic and hugely pleasurable relationships with  males who were true submissives. And 2), I hoped, as I have had over the past year, the privilege to be able to publish true accounts of real life, long term DS relations, provided by WOMEN.

In my formative period of becoming a Domme, I had two sources of such real life accounts written by women; The hardcopy Madame magazines and the website Petticoated.com. The former disappeared. The latter evolved into a forum for male cross dressers. (Although I have provided a link to an archive of the original femdom letters in an earlier post.)  So I started my blog to fill the void.  I am so pleased and privileged to now have so many wonderful real life, long term Dommes contributing to my blog.

Many of these wonderful Dommes push the limits, mainly it seems to me, because they have little interest in vanilla time with their sub. I KNOW if I had little interest in vanilla time with bitch-boy, my regime would be off-the-scale pushing the limits! And I could end up going that way, if I met the right woman, and I would be exhilarated to go that way.

But for various reasons, I do enjoy a fair amount of vanilla time with him, so I think I do not push the limits as much as others. I can’t say all aspects of my regime are 24/7 like other Dommes can. (Although during our DS time, I certainly do push the limits and almost always there is desperate, heartfelt pleading and there is sobbing. And when I want vanilla time to watch a movie or go to a fine dining restaurant or travel, I TELL bitch-boy I am about to USE him for his vanilla company. MY CHOICE, MY USE of him.)

Anyway, the point of those rambling two paragraphs is a request, in this rambling paragraph. There may be Dommes who read this blog but who do not contribute because they consider their regime does not push the limits enough to be worthy of publication. If that is the case, please by assured that I would love contributions from ALL Dommes in long term, real life relationships, limits pushed or not. Or any real life relationships that involve a submissive male being dominated by a woman. Perhaps a boss or other work colleague, perhaps a neighbour. My dream is to provide accounts of, and learn from, every sort of femdom relationship, whether or not limits are pushed.



For info on my own BDSM manual, in several formats, click on an image below.





Two have arrived!

Following my post, ‘Make the humiliation worse’, of 17 June 2020, TWO of the oversized pacifiers have arrived.

Not just one as I expected. Here I picture them, together with a ball point pen to show exact size.

They are a little smaller than I expected, but when he is in his full-on parody of a little girl outfit, one pacifier pushed into the mouth of my puppet to be held there and sucked on, will still do the job of adding considerably to his humiliation I think. And of course, as soon as I saw TWO of them, I knew where the second one will be inserted after the first one is inserted into my poor puppets mouth!

I may need some sort of harness to keep the second one in place. Perhaps, ironically, adapting one of my strap-on harnesses will do the job. With the pacifier pointing inward in place of a dildo pointing outward.

And simply day to day, when otherwise normally dressed, my puppet can be sucking on his new pacifier while maintaining my garden and doing other chores. I did also think that as they are slightly smaller than I imagined, I can make sure my submissive sucker has an extra miserable experience from time to time by liberally coating the one for the mouth with a wet bar of soap, or even use my little bottle of the fluid used to paint the fingernails of people trying to give up fingernail biting. That is terribly tasting stuff indeed!

When it comes to wonderfully humiliating, cock shaped paraphernalia for our hetero puppets, hen/bachelorette party accessories are soooo good! And so cheap! Below is his original cock pacifier and also his cock-straw which fits into his sippy cup outlet hole and he must suck through the cock-straw whatever ‘cocktail’ I have put in there. 





A LINK to all my journals HERE, including:



Make the humiliation worse?


All the way back in 2013, I posted about this cock pacifier. I had purchased it from an on-line hen party store. I do not know what the term is in the USA for a hen party?

It was pretty much made redundant though when I came across and purchased the Disney Princess Pacifier that could be strapped, and padlocked, into place.





But recently the original cock pacifier came back into use for a specific recurring activity, as I set out in my latest, soon to be published journal, No. 17.

What a coincidence then, that within days of the original cock pacifier coming back into use,  that I see on BDSMLR, this cock pacifier.

If anyone can advise me where I can purchase this new beauty, I will be able to make bitch-boy’s discomfort and shame rather worse for the recurring activity and thereby my pleasure and amusement will be increased. I have my fingers crossed that someone will be able to help me!



My 16th journal.

A link to all my journals.


Ms Josephine Drake

It is rare one finds a professional Domme who seems to enjoy ALL the same depravities as oneself. I think Governess X and I do, and now I have found Ms Josephine Drake. Or at least I was pointed to her Twitter account by sissy ballerina when sent the link in his comment, of a video of him performing a sissy rendition of The Good Ship Lollipop. Performing it to Ms Josephine Drake. (If only she was in the UK instead of the US.)

Our similarities. First she dresses in everyday clothing. Then she seems to like, for her clients, forced regression to infancy including  to be made to drink bottles of golden nectar, chastity inside diapers, sensory deprivation bondage, humiliation through having to dress and behave as a parody of a little girl,  using a TENS electricity box and using clothes pegs on the client’s genitalia and serious impact punishments of butts with canes and paddles etc. And even golden nectar in ice form.

If you look through her Twitter account you will find photographs of all of the above activities. If only she was in the South of the UK instead of in the US, bitch-boy has dodged a bullet there.

I did wonder whether sissy ballerina had enjoyed his good ship Lollipop rendition as he performs so well. I enquired, as that would have saddened me somewhat. I was relieved and amused by his response as follows:

No Mistress Scarlet, I did not enjoy it. The clothespins had been on for over two hours as Mommy likes to hear them rattle while I clean and do chores. Then I had to perform the song over and over while Mommy caned me and/or raked the clothespins because I made a mistake, or did not show adequate girlish enthusiasm. The humiliation did fade a little, overtaken by the pain and my focus on getting it right. But then when I watched the video it came flooding back ten fold causing me to burst out crying, wiggling and padding my feet in helpless sissy frustration. Every comment Mommy received about how ridiculous I am, brought a fresh stab of shame and embarrassment, and the video still makes me sob and whimper with humiliation every time I watch it.


Oh I so adore Ms Josephine Drake! And bitch-boy certainly dodged a bullet.

This is a link to my journals.



Why dress him in shaming outfits?

I come across Dommes now and again who are uninterested in petticoating humiliation of their sub males. Even a little dismissive, thinking it perhaps relatively pointless. I thought I should post how it became such a pleasure for me and why it is such a pleasure for the Dommes that use this torment.

It took me about four years to get to. I reached the point where my full-on domination days were punctuated with phases of seriously tough endurance for bitch-boy. Lots he struggled with; but they were all things that had in the past ticked his ‘fantasy’ boxes. Obviously, when they were all over he was in awe of me and submissively very content. Dominating him this was gave me considerable pleasure, but I suddenly wanted more intensity for me! I realised I wanted him to HATE what I put him through, even in fantasy, as that would be true evidence of my total power over him for me, (and for him). And total power is such an aphrodisiac! As is unfettered cruelty.

Thinking of him enduring what he really, really hated, got me wet. A huge power rush. It was not really practical to give him constant golden nectar, more thrashings or more coatings of embrocation on his birth defect and anyway, more short periods of pain in a session of many hours wasn’t what I was looking for. I  wanted him suffering every minute for hours at a time, not for only short periods.

I read about the full-on parody-of-a-little-girl treatment. I told him that was what I was thinking of doing. The forced role play on his part, constantly performing and usually with dollies. He looked very, very upset and shook his head silently. I could see he honestly, profoundly hated the notion. Never a fantasy of his. That moment, the thought of imposing it had me very wet! Because he hated it so. It would be PROPER evidence of MY POWER. And unlike a golden nectar, caning or embrocation cream, it could last hours. (There are so, so very many aspects of the treatment that can be employed.) And golden nectar, canings and embrocation could still be included.

So I went for it. It crushed him as I did not use half measures.

It did and still does have a powerful effect on me because it can last all day, or several days. And I have devised methods to keep the extreme levels of humiliation up for literally hours at a time.

One regular reciprocal visitor was not really into humiliation of her sub hubby; until the first time she visited me and she saw how much extreme mental pain it caused bitch-boy. In one brief afternoon with me, she went from pretty much ignoring regressing infantile style humiliation of her hubby, to making it a regular part of their sessions.

I should add that bitch-boy’s awe and worship and devotion consequently made a huge step change. I think he was so shocked that I was capable of doing something he truly hated and that I was getting very turned on because I was. And I was sparing him no blushes!  I paradoxically, I think, became his ultimate fantasy Domme. Not because of what I was doing, but because of my pitiless, selfish motivation for so doing whatever I wanted to.

That level of awe and worship and devotion lives on every day. I feel it almost all the time. Even in 100% vanilla times, even when I think I have messed up in some vanilla way, his unconditional devotion is like a warm bath that envelops me. I can literally do no wrong. And as I wrote on my blog, he is 100% man all of the time I am not dominating him. He revers after a couple of his hours of his shaming little girl treatment. Even if during it, he begged and begged with all his heart not to endure a second hour of this, or a third hour of that!

And obviously visitors, and particularly new visitors, send his humiliation off-the-scale! (Oh the constant whispered pleading and the physical trembling in the run up to the arrival!)Needless to say my feelings of truly cruel and pitiless power over my puppet, and y arousal are also pushed off-the-scale .


My 16th journal –  LINK

Submission immediately following orgasm

When the domination is 100% real and 100% powerful, and the situation is reached where the male knows he would never, ever want to depart his Mistress, so there are no thoughts of escape, then activities can be introduced purposefully in the seconds / minutes after ejaculation. For example, words to the effect of:

You are going to clean all the toilets now to an immaculate standard, and I know you have temporarily lost your submissiveness and ‘the thrill’, but I have TOTAL POWER over you and TOTAL CONTROL and I want you suffering tedium and degradation while you are in your current ‘vanilla’ , non-submissive headspace, so you REALLY KNOW AND ACCEPT this is NO GAME! Now get to it bitch!

On a similar vein I once read of a Domme who would give her sub a monthly maintenance, (or deterrent) caning. A severe punishment session, even though he had not erred, so he was properly frightened to disobey her in any way in any circumstances. She would give him a quick and un-erotic orgasm moments before the punishment began so, having lost his submissiveness, he truly understood punishments were not an erotic game.

It seems this acknowledgement by the Domme of  his temporary loss of submissiveness but still continuing with a severe caning, ironically brought the sub quickly to a very deep submissive headspace as the REALITY HIT HOME. The reality that his wife truly was uncompromising, ruthless and all powerful and her domination was 100% serious and in no way a game. But this relatively  quickly made him feel submissive anyway, and seriously in awe of his  Domme too.

I too have experienced times where bitch-boy has had one of his rare orgasms and then I have carried on with some humiliation or degradation. I see the reflex, disgruntled glint in his eyes that he is not feeling submissive, but then in his eyes, within moments, I can almost see his brain going through a thought pattern. He knows I know he is momentarily not feeling submissive, he recognises that I DO NOT CARE! I have my own hedonistic agenda and he remains my toy despite temporarily not feeling submissive.  Relatively quickly a submissive look appears in his eyes as he acknowledges his Mistress-wife owns him and does what she wants with him, and it is not a game played for him. It is his life!

Finally I will mention Madam Press, formerly Governess X, formerly Lady Governa of The District Reformatory . She has a clips4sale site. (I thought I had posted about her before but can’t find any such post?????)

In my early years of dominance, Madam Press, or Governess X as she was then, was a HUGE influence. I wanted the sissyfication/ age regression / parody of a little girl regime to FULLY subjugate bitch-boy with overwhelming humiliation and relentless control. BUT mostly on the web, sissyfication/ age regression / parody of a little girl, was linked to nurturing women pandering to the fantasies of males.

But Governess X was different! Oh yes! A great deal of dickie-discipline with nettles, ruler, thistles and Tens unit electricity. Extremes of humiliation, harsh canings, urine in baby bottles to be drunk, tedium sissy bondage. This Governess’s charges would genuinely plead and plead through their gags quite often. It is fair to say, a significant proportion of my regime style is a copy of hers.

So why do I mention her in this post? Well, although some of her charges are in chastity, most often they are not, although the are usually in bondage or mittens so can’t touch themselves. And she will often give those not in chastity a quick, no fuss milking by hand so she has their ‘cream’ to be used for smearing over their pacifier teat or be added to nectar in a baby bottle, or be part of the ‘infant’s’ meal. There is no doubt she is aware of how these charges must lose their submissiveness having just ejaculated, but she does not let up one bit!



For info on my own BDSM manual, in several formats, click on an image below.

Source of these GIF videos??

Not to everyone’s taste I know – diapers. But first I will mention diapers used simply as part of en enduring sensory deprivation bondage session. For 4 hours or more; almost essential for the collection of the victim’s urine. Why am I mentioning this? Many of you will know that  I use diapers and inflict enduring sensory deprivation bondage sessions on bitch-boy, especially if I have a female lover over.

Well this is a GIF involving diapers as part of an enduring sensory deprivation bondage session. It is on my BDSLR site here . It is rare to see this on the net, and even rarer that she urinates in a jug which is tipped on his fresh diaper before it is secured on him. If you have read my Journals you will know I do this too, detailed in at least one of my journals.

I am hoping to find the video on a free site from which the GIF has been taken.

Some of the delicious attributes listed below are in this GIF, but the next GIF I will mention has them all!

  • pitiless chastity control combined with
  • a casually but sexily dressed, sexy woman,
  • partial ignoring, (she is on her cell phone the whole time),
  • deep shaming with enforced age regression,
  • a totally relaxed Domme,
  • a domestic location, (not a dungeon or warehouse).


I know even more of you may not be interested in diapers, when combined with enforced age regression and petticoating, but I CERTIANLY AM!

This second GIF involves all of the attributes listed above, (I LOVE IT!!!!), and is on my BDSMLR site here. I would DEARLY LOVE to locate from which video this GIF was made!



Just a reminder about my new Guide entirely written to help entice vanilla women into trying domination. Further details HERE.  There is also my alternative blog; again entirely written to help entice vanilla women into trying domination.







Retired dominatrix humiliates for fun

Continuing on the basis that many of you do not read the comments, (And why should you. There is no threshold moment that is ideal to read the comments on any particular blog), below is my compilation of a series of comments from SamuelRowBottom.

I can’t see it will ever happen, but I would adore to put bitch-boy through a day or two of some triple domming with myself, Nanny Julia and Mistress Jane!

Comment Compilation

Yes Mistress Scarlet, they are in the south west, UK. The daughter was a professional who I visited to lose my virginity in 2008. Upon my failure to rise to the occasion, she suggested I would be better suited to visiting her mother – who had different specialities. After a few meets I was completely subjugated by her mother – Julia. Or Nana Julia to me. She found that I had certain work skills she could utilise and it has become a trade off of my abilities for the opportunity of spending time with her, and often her daughter. She must enjoy it for what it is though as she often orders me to visit even if she has no requirements of my skills in the preceding month.

Nana Julia was a nurse, became a professional dominatrix for a while, but then went back to nursing. It’s been nearly 30 years since she was a professional dominatrix but she has indulged occasional whims through contacts that her daughter sent her way. Being dominant to males is part of her whole character and so she has made it part of her life without needing to hire premises or indulge in ‘topping from the bottom’ – an aspect of being a professional dominatrix that she did not enjoy. No mention has ever been made to me of the father of her daughter – I believe she was a single mother rather than divorced or widowed. The only male company she needs is the obedient plaything type.

Regarding potties, I am forced to make the best of my white and yellow Mothercare pot though it can be very uncomfortable as my testicles get quite squashed by the front pee guard. I’m not always sitting either as it has been gaffa-tapped to my bottom so that I have to waddle around with my rubber pants around my ankles and my potty stuck to my bum. Almost a nursery version of a humbler – only much, much more humbling. It seems to amuse the two cruel ladies in my life.

They like nothing better than to tease and humiliate me during nappy changes or potty time. Sometimes they will do it gently and be amused when my ‘birth defect’ rises to its very best quivering 4 inches. I feel humiliated by my erection, my face flushed with shame at showing them my pitiful, attention-seeking willy. They find my embarrassment hilarious and more often than not their scorn and mockery makes it wilt pretty fast, but on occasion it will be tugged, and forced to squirt like a toileting chore. Post ejaculation I will feel utterly wretched, but they just pour on more scorn as they watch my red dick dwindling out of sight. They know I feel at my most uncomfortable at this moment and make the most of it. I have to cope.

When a weekend visit is arranged with me in attendance they have a lot to catch up on. Once dressed as a baby and put in my playpen they will have a cup of coffee and chat away politely, but at any moment either of them might snap out at me and have me trembling with fear. They know that this sudden change keeps me nervous and very intimidated. I am also fearful that the situation might escalate and they will both start snapping at me till I crumble and start to weep. This can be hard to avoid but never receives any sympathy. Quite the reverse in fact. If I act like a cry-baby they love to twist the knife and ridicule me all the more. They love it when I’m so scared that I wet my nappy.

Mother and Daughter take me to task regularly and enjoy themselves at my expense. It is not a 24/7 relationship but when they demand I visit I am completely there for the entertainment of the Mother. They like to keep me as their baby, but they have made it clear they don’t like baby boys and silly little wimps like me deserve relentless humiliation. I do get to escape for a few weeks at a time. When she wants to play though, I have to attend.

My playpen has a few dolls and teddies, plus a wooden train engine. The most embarrassing doll in my playpen is ‘Hilda’ a hideous fat blow up doll upon which I must sometimes show off my sexual ‘prowess’ whilst sucking my dummy and parting my legs for Nana to insert a butt plug. I usually fail to satisfy Hilda and have to stand in the corner with my baby frock pinned up, my rubber pants at my ankles and an A4 sheet of paper pinned to my bib with ‘failure’ written on it.


I thought you might be interested in an update on my life as a subjugated adult baby – especially as my last visit gave me cause to believe that Nana Julia or her daughter Jane might be followers of your blog. I had hoped this wasn’t the case as I am a little terrified that they might be tempted to explore the properties of Linnex on an already timid part of my anatomy.

Recently Lady Jessica wrote a contribution to your blog which you titled ‘ A Novel Humiliation’ and I feel that this may have contributed to the embarrassing ordeal I suffered last weekend. It was time for me to attend my monthly visit to Nana Julia. She had texted me instructions a couple of days before ordering me to abstain from making ‘biggies’ and to wear my butt plug until my arrival. I hate this instruction, which happens three or four times a year, as it always means that Nana is even more deeply interested in my discomfort and humiliation than usual on these occasions. The evening before travelling I received a further text and I was disheartened to learn that daughter Jane would be in attendance for part of the weekend and was looking forward to ‘playing with diddums’. As stated recently on your blog, Double Dom sessions are the most intense: a perpetual tag team of escalating abuse and egged-on entertainment. If I could have found an excuse not to attend I would have, but to frustrate Nana’s plans is a very bad idea. So I had my required body shave and then endured a sleepless night as I wondered what was in store for me this time.

I arrived on Saturday morning, uncomfortable and embarrassed. Nana Julia answered the door to me and took me straight up to the nursery where she stripped me and checked that my fat butt plug was firmly in place. Jane had spent the previous night there and was waiting in the kitchen. Nana said “Let’s make you look all pretty for Jane shall we?” She talced my fear-withered privates and proceeded to dress me in a terry nappy held together with big pink nappy pins. A disposable is the norm but Nana really wanted to make me look stupid today, so the big bulky nappy was followed by a voluminous pair of yellow rubber baby pants with rubber frills at the legs and all over the rear. I was stood before the full length mirror and Nana laughed at how ridiculous I looked in this get up, but she told me that as I was a ridiculous little maggot anyway it suited me perfectly. This verbal assault was hardly a new experience for me, yet because my visits are only monthly such disdainful comments are as piquant as ever. My particularly silly attire and my need for the toilet made me feel more emasculated and vulnerable than ever. My bottom lip began it’s quivering dance and I started to sob. Nana put her finger under my chin and looked Into my watering eyes with amused contempt. “Awwww, big baby. Baby want his rattle? Or baby want his potty pot?” That shut me up. I didn’t want to be reminded of my impending trip to the potty.

The baby talk makes me cringe. I have never gotten used to it. It makes me feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself. Just her words can bring forth genuine tears that just prove her point – that I’m a pathetic cry-baby. Sniffling miserably I was put into a frilly pink frock that was so short it failed to hide the nappy at all. With little white woollen booties in place, my shaved legs looked ludicrously long and thin, culminating in that preposterous pumpkin shell of giant nappy and rubber pants. A large satin bonnet was secured onto my head and a dummy was stuffed into my mouth. Nana stood back to admire her handy work. She was clearly delighted by the ridiculous parody of babyhood I presented. My beetroot red face and my limp-as-a-rag, defeated, countenance complimented my shameful outfit perfectly. Despite my shame I felt my weedy penis starting to swell, not that there was any danger of her noticing, wrapped as it was in that monumental nappy. She shook her head as if in disbelief. “What a prat.”

I hung my head and bit back more tears. Whist baby talk is mortifying, the inclusion of plain insults never lets one forget the reality of the dynamic between a strong woman and a weak male. Once again Nana gripped my chin and forced me to look at her. “POTTY TIME!”

Her reminder of my uncomfortable predicament was badly timed. My tummy groaned. I really did need the toilet, but I really didn’t want to do it for an audience. My traitorous swelling shrivelled up pretty quick after that. Nana took me by the scruff of the neck and marched me down to the kitchen. Jane burst out laughing when she saw me. She was delighted that her mother had really gone to town with my infantile outfit, much more extreme than usual. I waddled next to Nana looking like a complete idiot. To my horror I saw that Jane had placed the old porcelain chamber pot on a plastic sheet in the corner of the kitchen. I am usually forced to use a modern plastic Mothercare potty, but the porcelain potty is special. It may be less infantile but it is also less ‘modest’ for baby boys, and being bigger, the perfect receptacle for constipated babies such as me at that moment.

Nana Julia prodded me towards her daughter. “Go and ask Auntie Jane to put you on the potty you dirty little boy.” Jane laughed at me. “Has he been a dirty boy?” Dummied as I was all I could do was mumble disjointedly through my tears.

“What was that? Googoo Gaga?” She sneered. “What does that mean? Is the twat trying to tell me something?” Nana Julia offered her viewpoint on what my incoherent noise meant. “Dirty boy has stuck something up his botty like a pervert and needs to poop it out. Put him on his pot-pot and help him with his problem. “

Jane started to laugh and Nana did too. The verbal shredding was a much fun for them as other Doms get from beating. Jane stripped me of the entire baby outfit save for the bonnet, booties and dummy. She flicked my penis a few times because it amuses her to see the tiny limp thing trembling, shrivelled with fear and about as masculine as a My Little Pony. I very rarely get an erection in front of Jane; she scares me too much.

Nana took me by the scruff of the neck and as she sat down she pulled me across her lap. Jane walked behind as her mother pulled the cheeks of my bottom apart to show off the plug protruding from my very stuffed rectum. “Just look at what this dirty boy has done.”

“Oh he is a dirty boy. And look at his ugly testicles all squashed on your thigh.”

“Urgh yes, that’s so revolting.”

“POTTY TIME!” Jane laughed, slapping my bottom cheeks hard before dragging me off her mother’s lap and plonking me down on the potty. She stood back and I found myself looking up at the two smirking women as I squatted uncomfortably on the pot, my scrawny penis dangling miserably on the rim. I made a move to cover it from their mocking eyes but Nana snapped at me. “Hands on head!” I obeyed instantly, always fearful of her outbursts.

Nana rubbed her chin exaggeratedly. And I knew that this meant she was about to suggest something spontaneous (preplanned in advanced by both of them). “Baby does look upset, but silly baby left his rattle up in the nursery.”

“Oh dear, that is a pity.” Jane pondered. “Perhaps he’d like a balloon.”

“What a good idea.” Nana untied one of the threads that held a bright green balloon and handed it to Jane. “Would you like to do the honours?”

“Love to.”

Jane approached. “Baby want a balloon?”

I went to take it but as soon as I tried Nana snapped back at me to keep my hands on my head, warning me that if I didn’t she’d make me regret it. “Oh dear.” Jane sighed, “If only we could attach it to something else.”

“I know,” Nana said at this point as if she’d just had a blinding moment of inspiration. “Why don’t you tie it to his little worm? Is there enough of it?”

“Aww diddums.” Jane mocked as she crouched in front of me and tried to tie the thread just behind the acorn head of my penis. She fiddled for an age to loop the thread and fasten it, my little dick waggling this way and that as she worked, but eventually she managed it. It was about the longest contact between her fingers and my prick I’d ever experienced yet still there was no danger of an erection. In fact I may have been softer when she’d finished than before. But once finished the balloon went up, the thread tightening and dragging my lightweight limpness upward too. It looked humiliating stupid. My flaccid prick pulled thin, the pink head sagging wearily the other side of the knotted thread.

“Oh look mother, will you look at that! Dirty baby’s willy is pointing straight up at the ceiling.”

“Oh how rude!”

“Silly baby, how is baby going to piddle in his potty with his silly little winky pointing straight up in the air?” Jane remarked. “Well, we’ll leave you with that dilemma, maybe if you hold on long enough it’ll deflate.”

Nana laughed at this notion. “I doubt it.”

I was left alone sitting on my potty. I contemplated pushing the butt plug out whilst I had the privacy of solitude, but I couldn’t bring myself to; the need to pee had become more urgent. Nana and Jane returned twenty minutes later when they heard me crying in a state of shock and shame. My plastic sheet was soaking wet and I was peeing everywhere. They just stood there laughing their heads off as they watched my stretched dick hosing a great arc of pee everywhere except into my potty. I kept my hands on my head and tried to wiggle about to get my willy squirting in the right direction, but all my attempts failed and I just sprayed all over like a complete toilet training disaster. I got a soundly smacked bottom and I was made to stand in the corner wearing my ‘potty training failure” placard.

Afterwards I was made to mop up the floor with my nappy, and then Jane renappied me in it whilst her mother supervised with sneering remarks. Sopping wet and cold, I was soon sobbing again.

And at this stage it was still only Saturday morning! Yet I was thoroughly humiliated, weeping and still butt plugged and constipated. But they were amused. Jane in particular was having a whale of a time as she only attends my shaming weekends once in a while. The experience was one of the most intense ever, and there was another female visitor on the Sunday whose attendance made for a deeply degrading constipation cure. In three weeks time I’ll be back for more and I’m already getting nervous about it because I’m wondering if Linnex will be finding its way into my nappy?

(The helium filled balloons were from an event I was not privy to earlier in the week. A celebration. I do not know that Jane deliberately retained them with me in mind after possibly reading your blog, as neither Nana Julia or Jane allow me any insight into their lives outside of my visits, but I felt that there might be a connection with the recent blog post that mentioned balloons. The balloons in question were the large metallic ones in star shapes – blue, green and red with party slogans. With respect, my flaccidity in said situation rendered my penis extremely soft and whilst certainly not pencil thin it was thin enough to be notable and remarked upon.)

My limits when it comes to physical punishment have not been tested; an over-the-knee spanking and a butt plugging is as far as she has taken physical discomfort with me so far. Nana Julia is more into the emotional control: scolding, belittling etc. She would rather see me cry because of her words and her humiliating schemes than the physical abuse of my person. She knows I am a wimp and is happy to tease and humiliate me for it.



I have to do a potty dance occasionally and flap my wee-wee about in desperation whilst sucking my thumb. My performance is always greeted with raucous laughter which makes me feel terribly uncomfortable and full of performance anxiety. Failing to use my potty warrants a spanking of course, whilst wearing a nappy yanked up into a wedgie. I’m sopping wet by the time the spanking is over, so Nanny always gets her way.

Nanny enjoys humiliating me and teasing me. She is quite expert at making the ordeal of my enforced babyhood a miserable affair, with cold wet nappies and arduous knicker washing duties. She loves to see me getting tearful and to hear my voice break, and as soon as it does she will start mocking me by impersonating my whimpers. She has a photo album of my embarrassing sessions, including pictures of my red, shrivelled birth defect, which she will show to female visitors whilst I’m stuck in my highchair. Their laughter makes me hang my head in shame and they will start interrogating me till I cry. Nanny then strips me and makes me stand in the corner with a potty on my head, enjoying the sight of me sobbing so hard that my little wee-wee trembles like a catkin on a windy day. Nanny is never satisfied by a session unless I have cried bitterly so she can sneer at me and call me a cry-baby to my blotchy red face. Although I escape for a month I always return. I masturbate furiously between sessions, enjoying my miseries in retrospect, but there is little to enjoy in the sessions themselves other than the fuel they provide for my degradation fantasies in the interim.

In regard to pee, Nanny often empties a baby bottle full of her cold piddle into my nappy, but she is not opposed to squatting over the side of the tub whilst I’m having a baby bath and telling me that my bath water is her favourite toilet.

Most of my experiences with dickie discipline are on the flaccid member, as I am too intimidated by Nanny to become erect. The mockery that greets this fact adds to my deep shame and low self esteem during my nursery visits, compounding the issue and reinforcing limpness as the norm.

Nanny sometimes expresses regret that I am circumcised as she would quite like to nip a clothes peg onto the foreskin to stop piddles during No.2 potty training. She sometimes draws a comedy sad face on my mushroom head with an indelible sharpie just for the added comedy value of making my thing look like a sad, crying worm. Although this is not physical discipline it is painfully embarrassing, especially when I’m forced to display it to the derisive laughter of female visitors. Almost always I am flaccid during these humiliations.

Nanny has a friend called Rita who is over 60, quite large in frame and very busty. I am made to suckle at her heavy pendulous breasts as Nanny knows it terrifies me, but even so Ms Rita insists I remain flaccid inside my nappy. This would be almost certain anyway but to ensure it, part of the routine is for Nanny to empty a whole ice cube tray down the front of my nappy prior to my breast ‘feed’. A couple of ice cubes would melt quite quickly but 14 ice cubes barely melt at all over ten minutes or more and my wee-wee shrivels to the size of an acorn and my scrotum clenches up as small as a walnut. I’m usually crying within a few minutes and Nanny will check and confirm to Ms Rita that I’ve achieved baby dick proportions before Ms Rita heaves out one of her big white bosoms and drops it onto my face. I have to keep suckling as best I can through my tears.

Nanny will occasionally smack my thighs to start me crying again should I start to contain my sobs. It is very degrading indeed to be over Ms Ritas lap, face swamped by her heavy breast, mouth plugged by one of her big nipples, whilst Nanny watches and reprimands me for my dirty behaviour. Ms Rita insists I make loud sucking noises at her nipple as both she and Nanny find it very funny, so I am forced to make a babyish fool of myself for their delight. My nappy is cold and damp. As the cubes shift and melt, icy rivulets run down into my bum split making my anus tighten in shock. Afterwards, Ms Rita attends my nappy change to make fun of my blue/grey stump.

Nanny now likes to point out the immense difference between Ms Rita’s womanly endowments and my weedy little frozen ‘toddler dick’. Nanny sometimes uses English Mustard as nappy cream – a rubber gloved finger pushing it up my bottom and a dollop on my penis head. Less painful I’m sure than Deep Heat but more than enough for this wimp. Nanny has not yet used nettles, but she uses crushed seeds from her garden as an itching powder which she is happy to sprinkle liberally down the front of my nappy. She gets a big laugh out of seeing my hips jumping about in my cot like I’ve got ants in my pants.


Thank you, Mistress Scarlet, for allowing me to share my life as a little boy with you. I think you did tell me to share any new regiments Mommy had for me to follow. I was not sure if you were just doing the polite thing or if that is what you wanted. I hope after telling you my new regiment that you don’t think you would have been better off not hearing it or visualizing it because it is not for the squeamish.

Sometime back when the weather started to get cooler Mommy called me into her home office to have a talk. She said that while she had hoped this would work itself out over time that she now does not have patience anymore and it is time for her to intervene. Of courses, I had no idea what this was about, but I was getting scared. She then told me to go to her sofa and wait for her. I was sitting on the floor in front of her sofa as she came into the room with an electric heating pad and a small bottle of cream.

Mommy asked me to stand up and spread my baby blanket over the sofa and lay down. I was getting nervous again because as you know little boys have no place on the sofa unless nursing or from to time to time yum- yum time. Mommy normally likes to sit or stand for a yum-yum time, but sometimes will layout for me to yum-yum. She then placed the heating pad over my balls and said she will keep track of the time and be back. Mommy told me the pad will get hot but do not let it burn me.

Mommy came back checked my genitals and said good boy nice and hot. She then removed the heating pad and spread my legs more and grabbed the loose skin of my scrotum underneath my testicles and began to pull and stretch my scrotum skin but not my testicles, very, very far out. It did not hurt that much just some burning and tingling. She told me that my scrotum was too tight and while that is something a grown man would want it is not what little boys have. She said a little boy like me needs to have soft and supple scrotum with lots of loose skin so my balls can drop over time.

Mommy said every boy needs to have the frustration of dropping balls and she would not mind one bit if mine touched the floor. ( a very scary thought ) After Mommy was finished stretching and pulling she told me to stand up and put the cream on my balls and not to get it on anything in the house. Mommy said we will need to adjust our schedule because this will become a daily thing we do for now on.

I must admit to you Mistress Scarlet that in my mind at the very first this new regiment would not have much of an effect and I did not think it would have much or any visual effect. I was so WRONG! And it happened fairly quickly too. I remember the first day I noticed a big change. We had a hotter than normal winter afternoon and I started to feel a growing sensation around my scrotum area. It is very hard to describe this sensation other than saying it is a pure horniness that keeps building up with every step or movement. It is not an erotic horniness or a lustful one either. It does not trigger any kind of sexual thoughts or wants; it is just this building up of feelings of madness that I am horny, and it is getting worse with any kind of movement I make.

An erection would be welcome at this point just to get my mind off this new sensation I was having but that was not going to happen. I could not think straight or focus on anything so doing my chores was very difficult. I thought to take look to see if I could see anything that might be happening. What I saw was frightening, a big sack that looked almost empty because of all the loose and baggy skin. My bag was just hanging there, and I could clearly see the areas that the skin had been pulled and stretched the most, like little wrinkles of added weight.

My first thought was, I was the elephant man down there. While my description above was the first time I experienced these new feelings, it is not as maddening now all the time. I do almost always feel heavy and wiggle down there and with a very soft scrotum, any touch is amplified a lot. Mommy said she is happy not to have a little boy that looks like he is ready to burst out his yucky cum. She also said something about regressing well, but I do not know what that means. I am very worried about what the summer might bring.

Mommy Wife

Continuing with my series of posts of collections of comments from regular contributors, (as many of you understandably do not read the comments on posts as there is no threshold moment when all the comments on a post would have been received). I provide below comments about a truly delightful, innovative, female supremacist I describe as – Mommy Wife.

This is the first time I have used comments from a male about their Domme. The comments are from Eddie.


You are so right by saying to be carful for what we wish for. A few years into my marriage my wife would tease me about my smaller penis size. It is almost 5 inches hard on good days. While that is not good it is not world record bad either and I would tell her so. She told me that she planned on showing me just how small it was to her. I said sarcastically I wish you would. I hope you remember that remark she said. A few days later Mommy ..( that is what I have to call her now even in public, but not in front of family) had a very short baby shirt with poo bear on it. Also adult baby socks, she had a penis pacifier, all kinds of body hair removal things and some kind of machine I did not know what it was used for. ( I found later it was permanent laser hair removal device ) after seeing all this and being told what was going on, I said what, no diapers? She said no not a home I don’t want anything to hide your little soon to be hairless wee-wee. So yes, be careful what you wish for.

Thank you so much for your interest Mistress Scarlet. I am not sure you will be able to share my situation with many people because it will not be a PC kind of thing. Mommy is to the point and blunt and doesn’t play around with words. Mommy hates men she will even go as far to say that she hates all men. That said she doesn’t hate all male’s and will tolerate a selected few. Mommy told me she noticed that I had a lot of air in my head (her way of calling me dumb) and explore me a little more. Mommy doesn’t come out and say to anyone that she is a lesbian the most she will say is that she enjoys females in every way. Mommy suspected that I had a smaller than normal penis and if that was true she would have no choice but to treat me as a small boy. (These are not her exact words but I am trying not to be long winded here) I am now for all intensive reasons her little boy. I have no assigned age somewhere from just starting puberty to all the way back to a baby. She often tells me and some of her friends that I am her retarded baby. Most deem me as retarded for this or that reason. While that hurt me a lot at the start I now find that term as a sign of endearment because I might not every be capable of being a real man.

When going out I am dressed like a small boy could be Dressed. A Disneyland character t-shirt of my choice and I only have light weight pants that have no zippers and the pockets cut with plenty of croch room in them. Mostly sweat type pants or scurb pants that kind of thing. Boys with little hairless pee-pee’s don’t need underwear, but sock’s can be worn in nasty weather. Mommy has no other name than Mommy and in the house or out in public that is who she is and that I am treated very embarrassing so, just like a small boy.
One thing that is very noticeably about Mommy is her almost OCD behavior when it comes to how she feels about males. Mommy believes that all males should be kept with a hard on. Hurting, horny and frustrated with very few exception’s. I learned on my first days with Mommy, after my body hair removal is that all little boys fidget with their pee-pees and do not stop until they are told. To insure that I will be dining that Mommy found the right size penis ring for me to wear. It fits around my penis and goes all the way to the bottom. When I am completely falcid the ring can slip off. That is a very big no-no. It does not take a lot work to keep my penis slightly large enough to keep it on. One hand on my pee- pee and my other hand has my thumb in my mouth. Of course that is not a all day or night event, but I do spend a great deal of my free time that way. Sometimes Mommy will stop what she is doing and give me a hug and pat my bottom and that is the most special feeling ever. Mommy has spent a great deal of time training me what erections stand for her and me as well.

You must understand that it is MOST important to Mommy that know one would think sex between us has ever happened nor sex of any kind with anyone or any gender other than a hand has ever taken place. Boys cocks stay hard…Boys balls stay full! On many of my long duration erection brainwashing treatments I began to see and understand what she means that to someone like me with a small penis that erections feel normal and not having one is abnormal. Mommy has me doing one of the 4 different types of erection training daily if not all. 1st is the normal fidgeting at the top to keep erection started and going. 2nd is the brainwashing erection with very slowly and lightly movements of the middle finger and ring finger. Fast enough to stay erect but slow enough not to cum. These can go on for an hour or more and always feels like a very,very,very long time to me. 3rd is I bring my knees to my chest with feet’s up in the air a rub up and down with a flat palm and fingers. Mommy tells me lots of times that is how she did it when she was a little girl. 4th most scary, Mommy has me on her dinning room table tied and penis torture of different kinds, many times with vibrations from wands.

These are times I feel insanity will happen for sure. When no more chores are left and Mommy doesn’t want my help I spend allot of time locked in the room. She has two cameras with mic and speaker. One is like a baby monitor she can take with her and the other is tied into her home security system that is recording all the time movement is detected. She also has a phone app that she can use to see and hear everything know matter were she is. She puts two empty baby bottle’s in the room that I can make pee-pee in. I also spend a lot of time in the living room on my baby blanket in front of Mommy’s coach. I have my black female baby doll, my blocks, coloring books and my tablet to watch cartoons on. This time is also used for breasrfeeding or yum-yum time ( that can happen anytime all the time) spankings or erection brainwashing. Punishment spankings can happen any time too and they are painful and the way I am treated afterwards is just as painful. I feel many times my whole world is falling apart. Never want to make Mommy mad like that! Making (Ice cream) her word for me that means ejaculation or cum is always met with a punishment spanking. All males should be kept hard, horny and frustrated or in short for me, so I can better understand them because I am not so smart. Boys cocks stay hard and boys balls stay full. When I have work and it is always the graveyard shifts I spend more time in the locked room.

Mommy has me dress up as her little girl from time to time and one thing she told me is that she gets lonely for female company and that helps her with that. Unlike most males who are dressed in female entire unwantedly this is not for humiliation purposes. It is during these times I get to eat almost whatever I want and play videogames and Mommy is so very nice as almost a different person. My female clothing is not over the top really and I don’t have that many female clothing to speak of. Mommy normally likes the white sundress with a bow or ties in my hair. Mommy still doesn’t allow underwear I guess in this case I should say panties. I also have a pink long shirt with unicorns on it with puppy slippers. While things are ever changing I thought I would share some of the highlights here with you.

My wife who an have to call Mommy has not placed me into total chastity yet, but she has spoken about it now and then. She has me in intercourse chastity with a penis ring and a lock and ever changing sharp charms placed on it. No reasonable person would what that in them, not even a comdom will last very long before it rips apart. I am getting very scared that I will only be allowed hands for the rest of my life. She loves public humiliation for me with me having uncontrollable erection. I do not see this stopping it is one her favorite tortures. I feel a little better about my fate when I hear about born again virgins. I mean at least I am not alone with this fate.

I have been referred to as it, so embarrassing when it is done in front of waitress or friends. Also being called over to someone like they were calling for their dog. I finally got brave enough to ask mommy why she did that. She did not understand what I was talking about and she told me to try to make some since when I talked for now on. Something about that day and age that most woman were dominant to the children. Today kids are like best friends to the parent. Not judging because I am not smart enough for that, but it was much different in those days.

Maybe I am just kidding myself but in the Mommy Dom relationship I do not feel like a slave nor asked to act like one.. I fear punishment ever so deeply and yes at times Mommy scares me to death. I think that makes me more not wanting to sleep and hope to find away to be on her good side again. I can relate to everything being said here because after Mommy found me I have found a peace of mind that I thought was impossible to have. So yeah that makes me sleep better at night. I truly respect bitch boy level of submission and have learned allot from him. Mistress Scarlet has done a great thing for bitch boy. Not very many people left in the world who are as kind as she is in that she had to change her life and way of thinking to give bitch boy a peace of mind.

I feel so lucky NOT to be aloud to cum when I hear about other boi’s having to use a brush or having to eat boi cum they make. Mommy says little boi’s don’t make goowey messes. I do spend a great deal of time in a erection state so I guess some goow sneaks out unseen.


For info on my own BDSM manual, in several formats, click on an image below.