Tag Archives: FLR

Nurse Nasty’s new brush

17 April 2021

Following a tip from a fellow Domme, I saw this advertised in a magazine and immediately thought it may be a particularly effortlessly effective tool for Nurse Nasty to use during cleaning phases of naughty, little, stiff birth-defects.

It arrived; and holding it in my right hand and using a light scrubbing motion on the underside of my left forearm, certainly gives me the feeling I was right when I saw it. The bristles are quite sharp and It will indeed be a particularly effortlessly VERY effective tool for Nurse Nasty to use.

The underside of my left forearm is where I try most new toys to be used on birth-defects. It is sensitive skin, but perhaps not quite so sensitive as the skin of a birth defect; but I get a good gauge. It’s a while since a fully restrained and gagged bitch-boy, (with legs secured wide apart in the gynecological stirrups), and he has endured a thorough clean and treatment session from Nurse Nasty. And after the thorough cleaning, as the nettles are now at their most stinging this time of year, I think, to start, a herbal, organic nettle ‘treatment’ will be very thoroughly applied after the cleaning; followed by a skin invigorating ruler smacking, then a ‘soothing’ Linnex moisturise. Of course, pleading for the treatments to stop will not be of value because, as we all know; NURSE KNOWS BEST!

During this first treatment session, Nurse Nasty will no doubt have to sit and rest several times, with her Lelo wand in hand, such will be the patient’s whimpering and pleading and sobbing, she will HAVE TO satisfy her own resultant symptoms! While the patient is suffering the Linnex and feeling so very, very sorry for himself, he will be told he is to get a rest of half an hour, to an hour, and then treatment session two will take place; exactly the same as treatment session one. (I do think double-downs are so good for submissives that need to be left in no doubt they are: truly helplessly in the power of a pitiless, cruel dominant! It helps them sleep so soundly at night.) And bitch-boy is SOOOOO lucky to have all this free private health care!

[The double-down concept is included in my published, Addendum No.1. Simply put, a double -down is when a sub is just finishing enduring a particularly tough time and is feeling VERY sorry for himself, the Domme immediately announces there is forthwith to be another very horrible thing for him to endure. No sympathy, no pity – The Double-Down. Regular blog readers may have noticed Christine M frequently uses double-downs and sometimes even triple-downs!]

Making Comments on this post: Comments do not appear on my blog until I have moderated them. Comments that insult anyone will not be published, nor will aggressive comments. A wide range of views is truly welcome, we all have things to learn, however comments will not be published that take a contrary or critical view to any aspect of the post, but fail to explain why this contrary view is held, or fail to address the reasoning set out in the post to which the comment relates. (Such unexplained comments are simply boring.)

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A link to all my publications HERE, including:

Miss Anne’s, worm’s and mother-in law’s – lockdown life. Pt 1.

Another update from the wonderful Miss Anne. This is a link to the last post that featured Anne. And another link to the post before that. What follows next is part 1 of her account:

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For 6 months now I have been living in strict lockdown with my beloved mother and my slave-husband, “worm”, in a single-family house that provides perfect privacy. In this private environment, I can enjoy many BDSM activities with my slave during the day and at night. The power and control over the slave have become tighter and I really wonder where he finds the stamina and courage to endure this highly unforgiving, pitiless and humiliating daily routine.

It is clear that what dear Ms. Scarlet often blogs about is true, the more severe, harsh, and unforgiving I become towards him, the more awe he feels for me, the greater becomes his submission and blind obedience to my cruel will and whims. Allow me to review since I haven’t blogged about my life and experience with the slave in a while. Of course, he always wears a tight and short chastity belt that really limits his ability to get an erection to a minimum, and to put it elegantly it is a totally uncomfortable cage for his cock.

His last orgasm was in January 2020. Yes, you read that right ha-ha, the poor boy hasn’t emptied his swollen and aching balls in 15 months. No ruined orgasm, no prostate milking, no other drainage for his balls. Just constant and relentless teasing for the slave, he hasn’t even experienced an erection in all that time. If it gives him any pleasure, the only pleasure is to remove his chastity belt for 5-10 minutes at the end of each month, provided he is extremely obedient, humble, hardworking, and demonstrates exemplary behavior suitable for a slave for the entire month. When the chastity belt comes off, his hands are tied behind his back, I place an ice cube bag around his testicles, and in this way, I prevent any erection, hence any pleasure he might feel.

For him of course, even so, even for 5 minutes without the chastity belt is 5 minutes in comfort and bliss. Poor little slave… How can he take such abuse? How can he stand to live in this misery? Is the mind and soul of a submissive man an abyss after all or is it not? I sense and have discussed it with him and he confirms that he would not change this life for all the gold, luxuries, and comforts of the world!

Another aspect I want to raise is this. I don’t know what is in place in your countries and how married men think. In my country, most married men often complain or curse or hate their mothers-in-law and think that they stand in the way of their happiness and a harmonious marriage and that they influence their wives. This is not the case with my husband. I swear, you will not find another man in the whole world who adores his mother-in-law so much, so incredibly and indescribably! Ha-ha-ha-ha! You will not find another man who obeys his mother-in-law so blindly. You will not find another man who takes such great and good care of his mother-in-law. You will not find another man who shudders in fear when his mother-in-law simply pouts or much more raises her tone of voice; ha-ha.

Of course, my mother also takes good care of the needs of her son-in-law and slave. There isn’t a day that she doesn’t impose educational punishments, various humiliating tasks, and instructions, advice, and orders.

We are a happy family living in perfect harmony, without friction and quarrels. All this would not be possible if we did not live in an FLR marriage. I am lucky and grateful to my slave who introduced me to this wonderful life and believe me: I would never go back to my previous life, I could not last an hour in a vanilla relationship.

I once again express my thanks to Ms. Scarlet and all the wonderful dominant women on this blog and to some kind and conscientious subs and slaves who participate here and with their writings have helped me to strengthen and deepen my dominance over my slave. As I am not fluent in the English language, I am not able to write long messages. This takes up a lot of my time and energy. If there is interest I could continue, describing some moments from our daily life in lockdown.

NOTE: My mother is 20 years senior to the slave. The life I describe is real and not a fiction story. That means there is no sexual service of any kind from the slave to my mother. I would not allow, nor would she tolerate, such a thing.

Of course, it is an intimate relationship as the slave performs maid duties in my house giving her body and feet massage, take care of her feet and hands, comb her hair, and similar maid services. He helps her to take her bath and in dressing her but the slave is always blindfolded in these situations. When he lived with us only as a slave, before we were married, I speculate that there may have been more intimacy between them, I never asked or discussed this with my mother for obvious reasons.

My mother, despite her age, is still a charming woman, but clearly an elderly woman. I don’t know if the slave finds her attractive or not, I don’t care, and nor does it matter.
He is a slave and will serve her to the last moment of her life.

Making Comments on this post: Comments do not appear on my blog until I have moderated them. Comments that insult anyone will not be published, nor will aggressive comments. A wide range of views is truly welcome, we all have things to learn, however comments will not be published that take a contrary or critical view to any aspect of the post, but fail to explain why this contrary view is held, or fail to address the reasoning set out in the post to which the comment relates. (Such unexplained comments are simply boring.)

Curt Dismissals

I have mentioned the dominant pleasure from curt instructions a number of times on my blog. Well, as a result of my research for my, soon to be published, Addendum No.1, (an addendum to my original BDSM manual), I have come across, ‘Curt Dismissals.’ Below are two paragraphs extracted from a short section in my Addendum No.1 on ‘Curt Dismissals.’ I have begun to use them a lot and ADORE USING THEM! So my question to Dommes and subs is; are they as affecting for you, as they are for bitch-boy and I, although for each of us, affecting in very different ways!

…….. I use another situation for curt dismissals on vanilla days whenever I am about to do something for which I will be alone in a room. I may be about to start a yoga session, or work on one of my craft activities, or about to video chat with one or more friends or relatives, or make a pre-arranged phone call for a chat with someone. Alternatively, he is about to go to another room or outdoors, for chore work while I, for instance, watch TV.  A couple of minutes before I am ready to start, or he is about to depart, I will get bitch-boy to bring me a cup of tea or a glass of water. (This is usually by using a curt instruction, i.e. ‘Cup of tea, bitch.’) As soon as I hear he has placed the drink down, and always while I look elsewhere than at him, I use the curt dismissal, ‘Now fuck-off.’  I found it is quite easy to get into the habit of awareness that I am about to be in a different room to him for a while and, as soon as that awareness hits me, I wait until there is a couple of minutes to go, and then I curtly ask for my glass of water or cup of tea and, as soon as it is placed down, curtly tell him to, ‘Fuck-off’.………

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……… If you are a Domme who really cannot swear that does mean, ironically, by not using swear-word curt dismissals, you will be missing out the most, exactly because if you do not ever swear, a swear-word curt dismissal will have even more impact. However, instead of ‘fuck-off’, you could try, ‘You’re dismissed’ or ‘Are you still here?’, or, ‘Get out of my sight.’ ……..

My Addendum No.1 is almost completed and I have been amazed to find it tops 50,000 words of techniques and sophistications of dominance not included in my original BDSM manual. I have been so fortunate that the four years since publishing my original manual have been brimming full of exchanges with other Dommes and subs in mainly long-term DS relationships; and the additional ways to apply dominance have flooded in!

This is an amendment paragraph to the first version of this post as a commenter raised an issue I feel well worthy of discussion. He felt I was lowering my stature by using the phrase, ‘Fuck-off.’ This is my view on this matter: I understand that when people use this term because that is the limit of their vocabulary, it indicates a poor education. When it is a chosen option from a large number of available options to the user, and it is selected precisely because it is offensive to the recipient to be so addressed, it does not indicate poor education. So I am truly interested to understand how you reason it lowers the user in stature and indeed how you define stature? Further, I think if dogma is put aside the measure of appropriateness is a personal thing between two people. bitch-boy knows I have an excellent vocabulary, he knows I could dismiss him with a wide selection of words. He knows I choose, ‘fuck-off’, because I know it will offend him and cause him to feel more disrespected than any other option. How does this lower me in status?


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

Images of REAL Dominant wives and girlfriends

Well, not exactly, but…………………..

There are many submissive men who wish their wife or girlfriend was dominant, or who are seeking a dominant female. The internet, with 90% of its images of dominant women being professional dominatrices, can easily trick submissive men into thinking those internet images are what dominant women look like and behave like most of the time.

So here are images that represent what most submissive men see most of the time when those men are under the 24/7/365 domination of a REAL dominant woman. Not a Miss-World-super-model dressed in a selection from PVC, latex, corsets, above the elbow gloves, exotic lingerie, thigh high boots, sky high heels, etc. But a girl-next-door -type, dressed in everyday clothes, or sometimes alluring, but comfortable clothes. And not endlessly using BDSM equipment in her constant attendance to the male, but relaxing while the male, often in another room, toils on chores, or tedium torments, or becomes human furniture or waits quietly for an instruction.

And there will be vanilla times when a REAL dominant woman uses her male for his vanilla company. And there will be lots of orgasms – for her! (Why does all vanilla erotic literature and why do all vanilla sex blogs depict the women constantly enjoying massive orgasm after orgasm, while almost all femdom literature and femdom blogs are silent on the frequent, massive orgasms we REAL dominant women enjoy??? Far better and many more than when we were vanilla.)

Obviously there are punishments or punishment ‘sessions’ of one kind or another, to ensure obedience, and almost certainly torment sessions of physical discomfort and / or humiliation for the amusement of the dominant, possibly a maid’s uniform for him, possibly cuckolding and chastity, but,

I am interested to learn, you submissive males seeking to be under the control of your very own domestic tyrant, are these images representative of what you are expecting to see for many hours each week of your submission? And would your submissive core be content?

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A link to all my publications HERE, including:

Chastity in French

I received a link recommending me to a Mistress’s blog in the French language and a post regarding enforced chastity.

A benefit of being a mistress-wife is one has a husband-slave; so I immediately instructed him to use Google Translate and produce and tidy up an English language version of the post. I do like the style in which it is written; so here it is, in English.

The blog in Questions is entitled : JDM.

The day my husband’s chastity level went up a notch …

I offer you a little step back in my life, because it was a key moment in our evolution, my husband and I. We talked about it recently, and it was as if two old friends were talking about exploring together in their youth. Except that in our case, the story was made at its expense and that the exploration in question will have been that of a more explicit submission on its part, which I immediately transformed into more supported domination on my part, with an irreversible ratchet effect.

This evocation had the effect of reminding me of what had happened, what had been said. I remembered for a long time the words exchanged in detail, and then it had sunk a little into the great number of my memories on this theme. But it all came back almost instantly, and I realized the same was true for him. We could have replayed it, so to speak 🙂 It means one thing: this moment, for him as for me, will have been a turning point. To the physical dimension, sex and the chastity cage, was added an intense psychological dimension. It would therefore be a shame not to tell you about it, it may inspire some sisters.

At the time, we had a rather imperfect chastity cage. Too closed, too large, too primary ring. We had made extra holes with the drill! And laid out the ring with resin. This is the Casto session, one of my specialties. I still have this cage, I’m going to dig it up to take a picture of it, just for fun. But I’ll put it at the end, it’s not very nice … In the article, I prefer to illustrate with personal photos of the key carried, since we are talking about chastity.

So back then, I used to cage my husband from Monday to Friday. Release on Saturday morning, if he had been obedient, or a little later to frustrate him, but never beyond Sunday noon.

That week, he was still in a cage on Sunday morning, around 10 a.m., and began to wait seriously for the end of the ordeal. Without having specially prepared my shot (for once!) And as I found him a little confident of him and of the near release, I said to him while putting on makeup in front of a mirror in the living room: “I am sure that at the bottom of you would like to stay in a cage longer ”.

There is like a blank, a kind of swallowing, and a whisper… “well no, I would like you to free me…” (I would point out that at that time my husband was fucking me, which is now totally excluded). I continue, while putting on makeup: “Yes, I will clarify: you would like me to release you, but deep down, you would like me to FORCE YOU to stay in a chastity cage”

I hear him stammering that no, he doesn’t see why. I explain to him that his body, which wants to enjoy, which is legitimate, wants liberation, but that psychologically, his brain is certainly dreaming, secretly, that I force him to go through and force him to go on Monday without liberation ”.

As he continued to denigrate (although more and more softly …), I turned to him by asking him a simpler question: “if you consider the fact that I could impose it on you, since I have the only key , you find it exciting, you can’t deny it! ”

He replies that yes, it is true, and especially since he is already in a cage and it is cruel. Very good, good answer. Second question: “And what turns you on, you necessarily like it, right?

Yes, of course, he said. “So the prospect of me imposing this cruel exercise on you excites and pleases you, which means that you secretly dream about it without daring to admit it to me.” When he admitted that it was true, he lost an important first run. He could never go up the slope, especially with what will follow.

But already at this stage, at the time of release, with more than 3/4 of a day to enjoy his sex before being put back in a cage, no key, no hold on me, evoking his excitement, c ‘was coming to throw myself into my net without being able to resist the rest. It was cruel of me, but I love to indulge in this cruelty so much. So I tightened the net…. “So say it, in full, looking me in the eye!” “.

He did not immediately formulate it completely and I had to do it over several times, adding what was missing, but finally, facing me doing my hair and tying my hair, eyes in the eyes. eyes, he complied:

“Yes my dear, I wish you could keep me in a cage longer, without freeing me, even though I want to be able to cum. I would like you to impose it on me.” At this point, as if I was hesitating … I asked him to come up with 5 arguments for me, 5 good reasons, 5 convincing advantages, so that I would agree to impose a much longer duration on him. And that he would tell me that in the early afternoon, while reminding me of what he had just confessed to me.

I have already written an article on this idea of ​​making the companion ask for these own tortures (“the paradoxical management of the submissive”, from memory). You will have noticed that I have introduced the term “sharply” at this point, and let it marinate with it all looping through the brain. It’s a phase of accepting the domination of the other that’s important, I think, and you have to allow time. Like when you marinate game before cooking it: it has to work, the resistance must soften.

At around 3 p.m., seeing that I was not taking care of him, he came to me to talk to me on his own. A very good point. He reiterated the sentence above to me, and he listed the 5 arguments for me. I remember it well enough:

“You have to keep me in a cage longer …

– because you want to control me and it’s a form of control

– because it will make me more attentive

– because it prevents me from masturbating

– because you like to carry the key with you

– because it accentuates our D / s relationship ”

It was okay, but I wanted to win a second round, and an idea came to me at that point, which I hadn’t had. I asked him to rephrase without using neutral forms, and with him as the subject. We had to explain, but we had time… I had put him in front of me, 10 cm lower than me, with very high heels, a tight outfit and the key securely in place. After a while it was better, like:

“I think you should put the cage on me longer and not release me because if you release me:

– I would no longer be under your control in the same way

– I risk turning away from you

– I risk masturbating

– so that you can keep the key

– so that our D / s relationship continues to progress ”

It might sound a bit the same, but it actually isn’t, especially eye-to-eye. You certainly understand that said like that, it becomes impossible for me to release him. He feels it, and he’s lost this round.

And why not push it in a little more. I decide to focus on the 3rd point and ask him: if you feel that we are not going to have sex right away, are you likely to masturbate, or is it likely that you will masturbate? Or even certain?

It was hard, but he admitted that depending on the time, it was probable or certain… So he had to formulate correctly, eye to eye and hands behind his back “if you release me, it is very probable even certain that I will masturbate ”

So I told him that I was going to keep him in a cage, and that for it to be a real chastity session, I was going to order a tighter, smaller cage, and that I was going to focus on locking it down. and audits.

In the morning, he was sure to be released, and a few hours later, he asked me to keep him longer, and especially not to release him because he would go straight to masturbate, knowing that this is one of the things that angry the most.

He was in the cage for 4.5 weeks, whereas so far he had not exceeded 7 or 8 days. It was cruel to him, but there had also been sincerity. And so as I indicated in the title, this was the time when we made a big step forward in the use of the chastity cage, and consequently in other aspects.

Looking back, he told me that the most terrible thing for him had been that it had been demonstrated that durations of several weeks, even several months, were perfectly possible, and that I would have no restraint in imposing them if necessary, including repeatedly.

A bit long article, but I wanted to detail the mental journey, which is always done in two

Christine’s David draws a ……

I have nothing to add to this fantastic account from Christine M other than to provide a link to the related previous post from Christine. Enjoy; I certainly did!

We made David’s Sunday draw in bed around 9-30 am, after he had spent quite some time pleasuring me to several orgasms. I am not sure who was most surprised, when his draw popped up, granting him a release! One of his two possible releases in a year. It seems there had been purpose to his prior expectations of early success. He was wide-eyed with elation after 13-months without a release.

We had been out together all-day Saturday and had had vanilla nights at home on both the Friday and Thursday evenings so; David had a full-on day of chores ahead. I advised him he could plan on getting his release ‘this evening’ and that, since he had gone for so long without a release, ‘I would make it very special for him!

He worked tirelessly all day, but it was still close to eight o’clock before he got around to starting on the ironing. He still had a good two-hours’ worth to do, when I went in a ½ hour later. I pleasantly advised him that he could “leave that for now”, as I had everything ready for his release, if he would like to join me in my office. He of course followed excitedly behind me.

I was dressed in a long, billowy cotton kaftan, with a floral design. Nothing sexy, I like it as it is stylish and kind of conceals my large behind. On entering the room, he started to tremble, and his smile vanished, as he stared in dismay at the full screen image displayed on my large computer monitor. This showed by sister, who was connected by FaceTime! He looked at me aghast but knew better than to complain.

I smiled over at him and warmly advised, “Since this is such a rare and special occasion, I just knew you would want to share it… And (my sister) was pleased to accept your invitation. We’ve been chatting for a while and, as you can see, in honour of the occasion, we have both opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate… in fact, we’re each three glasses in, and probably a little tipsy! Now… don’t be rude, say ‘Hello’ to (my sister) and let her know how glad you are that she could join us.” Blushing profusely and stuttering, he reluctantly, but politely, did as he was told. 

I then explained how everything had been set up. His flesh-lite was secured tightly to his punishment bed, so he could kneel in front of it and penetrate it without needing to hold it…. “and… I’ve turned the bed round, so you will be directly facing your audience.” He was looking terribly uncomfortable and tried to plead that he really was too embarrassed to come in front of someone else. I dispassionately dismissed his concern.

In front of my giggling sister and her ‘cat-calls’, I had him lower his three pairs of panties to his ankles, and then pull his skirt and slip up high and out of the way at the front, where I secured them in place with two large safety pins. That morning, I had had him wear a garter belt, rather than his usual girdle, to hold up his stockings; so, his chastised appendage was now fully exposed. I then cuffed his hands behind his back, before unlocking and removing his chastity device. Needless to say, a few tweaks of his nipples and his defect sprung proudly erect. “Well,” I grinned, “your little bit of gristle certainly wants to show off to (my sister)!”

My sister was by now joining the conversation with various disparaging remarks, mocking that. “.. it wasn’t anything to ‘show off”; but it did look all girly and cute being so clean shaven, “It certainly doesn’t look like it belongs to a real man! And it’s so small!” she snickered as he went a deeper shade of red.

We then mocked him about being a BAV and laughed at how he only got to jerk off twice a year at most. “What a little Nancy you are!” she laughed as she sipped her champagne, “It’s a good job you have a tongue!

I then put two condoms on it before advising that, since it had been so long since his last release, I had better remind him of his rules. I sternly warned, “You have one-minute. You are not to let your organ so much as brush against the flesh lite until after I press my stopwatch and tell you, ‘Go’. If you start even a fraction of a second too early, your release will immediately end, and you will be punished. So, keep it at least 6-inches away. Once I say ‘Go’, you can start thrusting away to your hearts content. I will countdown the last five seconds, and you need to have pulled out BEFORE I advise, ‘Stop’, or you will be very, very severely punished.” He was looking ever so nervous now, trying to not look into my sister’s smiling face, positioned right in front of him.

“My, my” she laughed sarcastically, before breathlessly proclaimed in mock wonderment, “…what a stud you must be… can you really last a whole minute?” If it were possible to blush a deeper shade of red, he would have; especially as I added, “I very much doubt it!” giggling, “we don’t call you the fastest gun in town for nothing, do we, David?” 

Snapping that it was not a rhetorical question, he was forced to shamefacedly agree with me, as my sister laughed even louder. Turning to my sister, I joked, “HE thinks he’s a real stud if he manages thirty seconds, … Don’t you dear?” He nodded shamefacedly with a whispered ‘Yes’, as he knew he dare not disagree with me.

My sister nearly spat her drink out, she thought that was so hilarious. “No wonder you keep it locked away. He must be a real embarrassment to you.” Addressing David, she then mocked, “You must have disappointed a lot of girls over the years? The ladies may turn and admire you**, when they see you out and about, but they’d roll their eyes at you in contempt if they knew about your little problem and how quickly you spurt! No wonder Christine dresses you like a sissy at home. Is that what used to happen when you used to date all those dolly birds? Did they look up at the ceiling in frustrated annoyance?” He was too crimson faced to speak, but gently nodded his head to avoid challenging her. 

     ** This referenced the fact that David remains strikingly handsome at 6 feet tall with an athletic, muscular stature. (In contrast, I am a classic bell shape and, though just two inches shorter, I weigh about 1/2 again what David does.) 

With our laughter still ringing in his ears, and my sister mocking him contemptuously, it was time to let him have his release. I smiled, “Are you ready to go David?” as he knelt before the flesh lite… “Now one more rule, you are not to close your eyes. If you close your eyes, your release is cancelled… and you will be punished… and… you are to keep looking into our eyes.” He was squirming and trembling and terrified of making a bigger fool of himself.

“OK….” I then pressed start and advised, “Go!”. He lunged forward as my sister roared with laughter at his pathetic gyrations, mocking how it was just as well it was only a piece of plastic tubing as he wouldn’t be doing too much to please a woman with his bit of gristle. I counted the seconds, … “25-seconds, …” as he started to look anxious, he was struggling to come with all the humiliation.

“30-seconds, …. It looks like you’re trying to impress my sister,” I teased, …… “40-seconds….

My what a stud you are!” scoffed my sister.

Fift…y” At this point he let out an almighty roar as he powerfully ejaculated. I know he would have loved to get the post orgasmic pleasure that flows from remaining with his organ enveloped by, in his current case, the flesh-light, but he gets a release, not relief, not a long orgasm. “fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fift…” I continued as, with tremendous fortitude, he pulled out, before I got to say ‘Stop’. He was sobbing in humiliation and frustration, his organ still twitching and screaming out for more. Instead, I stepped in with an ice pack, quickly removed the condoms and pushed him on his back to better apply the ice pack; before again securing his appendage in its stainless chastity cage, in which it can’t even erect.

He was then told he had five minutes to tidy himself up, fix up his make-up and get back to his ironing. We were still giggling as he departed the room.

That night in bed, I grinned as he entered the room and he squirmed embarrassedly before me, as I lightly noted how “At least we got that out the way for a while”. He couldn’t get close enough to me and begged me to let him pleasure me!

Christine XXXX

Kitchen-slave

I have mentioned in the past that I like to cook and bake from time to time and I have also mentioned that bitch-boy has to get up early enough EVERY morning to return the kitchen to an immaculate state before I get up, whether I have cooked or, as is more normal, he has.  It is very enjoyable to cook and bake with no regard to clean-up afterwards, knowing you have a little kitchen slave to do that.

The other evening I was cooking for fun. When I had finished, I required bitch-boy for his vanilla company to watch a movie and then to come up to bed with me. The next morning, the kitchen greeted him looking like a bomb damaged conflict zone! And in particular, this greeted him.

Before I started cooking, the immaculately clean grill tray had been lined with aluminium foil which I had removed at the commencement of my cooking exploits, just for the subjugating effect that would have on my kitchen-slave.

He found next to the grill tray a little note on which I had written. ‘Clean this disgusting item until it shines! I removed the aluminium foil because I am a bitch and last night in bed, thinking about that, made my orgasms more intense.’

 

Indeed the previous night when I had summoned him to bed with me to lick me to a couple of orgasms, thinking about what a bitch I had been and how he would feel the next morning greeted by the tray and note, as well as my usual thinking about his defect all locked away and his orgasms being so scarce while mine are so frequent, my orgasms had been seriously enhanced!

 

A link to all my journals HERE, including:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

photos

When to finish a sex session??

The other evening I was enjoying a very funny female comedian’s stand up routine. One routine was both funny and for me resonated around my sexuality and relationship with bitch-boy. So probably also applicable to a number of DS couples. The comedian had mentioned she was bi-sexual and then talked about how a straight forward aspect of sex with a man was that it has a natural end point;  when he cums, often quickly arrived at!

But good sex with another woman just goes on and on unless there is a reason to stop. And it is a difficulty to stop without a reason.  This brief routine sparked so many thoughts in my head when applied to my and others’ DS lives.

How wonderful it is to be a dominant woman so sex with a male does not have a natural end point, because the male either does not cum at all, or only cums when I the Domme is ready to end the sex session. How wonderful that that phenomenon, of itself, raises arousal and orgasm intensity for the Domme.

How wonderful that I now only like mutually rewarding sex sessions with other women and I can remind bitch-boy that when I used to have mutually rewarding sex sessions with him, a very long time ago, they were sometimes over rather quickly, while my  mutually rewarding sex sessions with women go on and on and on.

And finally, loosely linked to all this, I thought about how, under my ‘new’ denial regimen for bitch-boy, during the frequent full-on DS days I enjoy, I have more orgasms during any one of those days, than bitch-boy will get in a year. Then as I pondered on that, and I realised that, more accurately, I have more orgasms during any one of those DS days, than bitch-boy will get in TWO YEARS!  I don’t know why I had not recognised the actual extent of this disparity before! I could not wait to tell him!

 

 

Unhappy Anniversary

I engaged in a delightful set of email exchanges with Christine M recently, firstly advising me it was an anniversary for her slave-husband David. It was imminently one year since his last orgasm. I will set out the exchange below.

If you have not been following the accounts of Christine regarding adopting a maid’s outfit for David and the development of her chastity release spreadsheet, I suggest you type ‘Christine’ into the search box at top right and a list of relevant posts will be presented.

Hi Scarlet

Well David has gone just over 12-months since his last release! The good news, for him, is that on Sunday 7 March, he will get to draw for a release using our new Chastity Release Spreadsheet. I detailed this in an email a few months ago. Sadly, from his perspective, this allows for an absolute maximum of two releases in the year, and even if the spreadsheet selects a release, it can still be ‘lost’ if he should misbehave!

I have never seen him so desperate to come. He is permanently on edge and I am so enjoying teasing him relentlessly. Given there are only two releases possible each year, he is being positively over-optimistic. He seriously talks as though he will get a release in March! I think he believes I am going to show compassion for the fact that he has been so long without a release, and ‘fix-it’ so he gets one in March. His hopes are totally misplaced, I am as dispassionate as the computer is about his ‘plight’! The soulless, machine-driven, random computer spreadsheet algorithm will be the sole determinant as to when he will get a release.

Poor dear, given I am working him harder than ever and he rarely even gets an erection, (unless he has a meeting with Nurse Linnex scheduled, Nurse L,); I guess it is understandable he should be getting so excited.

I am so looking forward to seeing his look of despondency when he draws a blank!

All the best

Christine XXXX
Hi Christine
So hot! And so much for me to empathise with.
It is over 8 weeks since bitch-boy last came and it will be many more weeks yet! Although that is trivial compared to David’s plight, given up until last spring, bitch-boy used to cum every 10 days to 2 weeks, (subject to special periods), and with my new regimen, he has only cum twice since last spring, he is beside himself with frustration! I tease him almost every day and I have two or three orgasms on approx 5 days out of 7 days a week, mostly using my wand. This includes on days when there is no DS activity. Just because I am being so cruel and it is such a bitchy power-rush, I seem to be always turned -on!
He has been so close to tears during his recent teasings as I flaunt my body and caress my beasts and special places. I think I may actually get tears to flow without touching him! What a power rush you will get when David is so disappointed.
I also empathise with your absence of compassion as I feel exactly the same. It’s powerful to feel like that! What a decadent feeling it is, when they are at their wits end like it is the end of their world, and you are totally unmoved and unsympathetic. I adore that feeling.
Can’t wait to read about the big day!
Stay safe
Scarlet
xx
PS. Oh, wish David a happy anniversary from me. I wish I could send him a card.

From: Christine
Sent: 01 March 2021 02:14

I will indeed, Scarlet!
You are so right about what makes it even worse.
The total disdain and disinterest I genuinely feel, leaves him feeling even more helpless, frustrated and ‘worried’.
Please feel free to share on your site if you wish.
Christine

Hi Christine

I am so looking forward to your account of his anniversary day!

Scarlet

xxx

Scarlet

Sunday, March 7 has come and passed. Since David was so excitedly looking forward to the day’s events, I made it a very special day for him! (Which also means I have written far more than I planned!)

He awoke early and was ever so anxious to both please, and later, with doleful eyes, trembling in anticipation, timorously ask about drawing for his release, using the spreadsheet. “Is it the seventh already?” I nonchalantly responded before disdainfully advising that his draw could wait until later; making it obvious it was an unimportant,  nothing matter to me. I was glowing from his ministrations, having had several orgasms, and taking pleasure in thoughts of our contrasting lives. I delighted in rubbing it in that I had just had more orgasms in the past hour, than he would get in the next year.

I continued, by noting he was already late in starting his housework. He was then told to get dressed and made-up, and start on his chores; and to ‘be quick about it’… unless he wanted a hurry-up from my cane! He managed to move with alacrity, though he was clearly inwardly seething at the injustice he perceived in his treatment.

While he applied his make-up, I remonstrated at his self-seeking attitude, mocking his pathetic need to cum; and reminding him that it was just a useless piece of gristle he had between his legs, that I had absolutely no need for it, that it would never ever penetrate me again, nor feel the caress of my hand. It would never even feel the touch of human flesh again!

I also poked fun at him, observing that, since it had been constantly locked up, I had noticed it was shrinking. I then taunted him by advising that we should start referring to it as his ‘teeny weeny winky tinky’. He was crimson with shame and ignominy as I derided him, genuinely fearing he was shrinking. After all, he never gets to see it erect. He has always basked in a little male pride, knowing that he was slightly larger than average. So, this is a much-feared fall from grace for him!

Once he was dressed in his maid’s outfit, I laughed at his feminised state as I curtly told him that I would see if I could squeeze in a couple of minutes for his draw in the afternoon; but he would have to ask me very politely, ‘…. if he might have a chance to play with his ‘teeny weeny winky tinky’, or the draw would be cancelled until next month!

Around two o’clock, he was doing the ironing, when I stridently called him into my office. I had his computer spreadsheet program open, and my iPhone on speaker. Showing complete disinterest in him, I ordered him closer and snappily advised “I’m on the phone to my sister, but she’s fine to hold for ½ a minute while we get your draw out the way,… so, quickly,…. What do you say?” Blushing crimson and cringing in disbelief at my callous indifference for both his dignity and the importance he placed on the event, he quietly stammered, “Can I please draw to see if I can play with my teeny weeny winky tinky?

Ignoring him, I asked my sister if she had heard him. He was devastated by being so publicly shown up. “You need to speak up David;” I continued, “A nice loud voice this time or I’ll assume you’re not bothered about a release!” He swallowed hard, tears welling up, the day was not going as he had dreamed or prayed for. “Christine, can I please draw to see if I can play with my teeny weeny winky tinky? Please?” He was shaking like a leaf, burning up at being so demeaned, yet still so desperate to cum.

With the sound of my sister’s laughter ringing in his ears, I curtly advised, “Take the mouse… click Apply…. Let’s get it over and done with!” He scurried to do as he was bid, lest I change my mind. As might be expected, the message, ‘Try again next week” appeared in the results box. With complete indifference and brevity, I calmly advised, “Fun over. Back to your ironing….” and returned to my conversation with my sister.

As he dithered, frozen in shock, I stormed “NOW!” He had so expected me to fix it so he had an orgasm, that he was stunned, rooted to the spot in disbelief at being both ridiculed and denied. The colour was by now draining from his face as the realisation sank in that he was not getting a release, even though 12 months had passed since his last. My sister passed a cutting remark about his lack of manliness and shrinkage, and we both laughed uproariously. He was crushed, overwhelmed, devastated and further, humiliated by our laughter.

Crankily shaking his head, stifling his tetchiness, he slowly trudged back to the laundry. About 15 minutes later, I quietly left the office, the phone still up to my face, and glanced into the laundry. He was back at his ironing, though he was moving far too slowly and sullenly for my liking. Amusingly, his face was red and slightly blotchy from having shed a few tears, and he was clearly distraught and angry, with a morose, long-suffering set to his jaw, his frustration and disgruntlement no doubt heightened by my coldness and his feelings of isolation.

I ‘woke’ him from his self-centred, misery-filled trance by loudly instructing, “David, unless you want me to give you something to very seriously cry about, I suggest you stop wallowing in self-pity right now, set a smile on your face and put some serious effort and zest into your ironing! You’ve still got plenty to do!” Instantly, I resumed my light demeanour, chatting happily to my sister as I strolled down the hall, laughing as he was again forgotten, a brief interruption, not deserving of my further attention.

I had very deliberately planned his draw to take place during a call to my sister, not for the humiliation, but the deeper message it sent. The chance to cum had become such an extreme focus for David, it was the most important thing on his mind, in his world. I was therefore showing him just how unimportant his release was to me. It was something to be squeezed into my day and quickly gotten out the way. What he saw as an extremely special and important event, was a nothing event for me, less important than a phone call to my sister, who I speak to every day.

I left him for about an hour, by which time I knew he should be just about finished on the laundry. The ironing was his final chore for the day, (though he would need to clean up the kitchen later); so he would have been expecting to be allowed to change back to his male attire and join me for the evening. Given his poor attitude and laziness with the ironing, this was no longer going to be the case.

He was indeed down to the last few items when I entered, hauling in an industrial size laundry bag. His face dropped and he turned ashen at the stern set of my face and the sight of his bag of punishment ironing. This is full of second-hand clothes from the local charity shop. These are items that I selected for their difficulty to iron and the way they easily crease. There are lots of pleated skirts and frilly blouses. It takes him about three hours to iron everything in the bag, hence his utter dismay! Once everything is ironed and neatly folded, he has to put them on a quick wash cycle, and then through the dryer, to ensure everything is full of creases again, before being crushed back into the bag for a future punishment session.

We have three of these bags and, depending upon the time he has available, the degree of my ire with respect to his ‘misbehaviour, or simply ‘my whim of the moment’; is how many bags he gets to iron. Since today was such a special day for him, and to remind him to avoid silly displays of self-interest… I returned a few minutes later with the other two bags. His spirits visibly sank further, he looked so forlorn.

Because it is punishment ironing, and following the advice of others on your site, he has to change into a pair of high-heeled shoes in which small marbles have been firmly glued onto a sole insert. The shoes are also a size too small, making them most uncomfortable to wear. And he would be standing in them for over 9-hours! No wonder he looked abjectly heartbroken; he was certainly ‘enjoying’ a memorable day!

It was around midnight, having missed out on dinner, that he finally joined me. I then lost count of how many orgasms he gave me. I had him moisturise my body with fragrant oils, while I used my wand, showing him, I didn’t even need his tongue! Needless to say, I also constantly teased him about how I couldn’t see what he was so upset about, he’d gone over a year without coming, what was the big deal if he had to go a few weeks more, or even months?

He snuggled close that night though, after I teased his nipples in bed for a good ½ hour, driving him insane with desire and frustration. His tears of disgruntlement replaced with tears of divine frustration. He was in awe and rapture, and I feel certain that he was in a state of blissful contentment when he fell asleep spooning me.

Christine XXXX