Tag Archives: golden showers

Lock down activities (No. 4)

This new activity was loosely inspired by my post of 1 May featuring who I now know to be, Miss Panic. I did since find she has a couple of videos on PornHub as well as the, often very wicked, short clips on the Twitter site I references in my earlier post. The video for which I have provided a link, also has her on her signal, having her arm pit covertly licked,  in public.

Lock down activity No. 4 is that bitch-boy now has a garnish added to every single drink and every single meal he consumes.  Normally it will be a mouthful of spit deposited into his mug or glass before he begins to drink, or I drop a mouthful of spit onto each plate or bowl of food he is about to consume. (This is during all the vanilla times. Obviously during DS times, it is my nectar from a jug that is added instead of, or as well as, my spit.)

He must always say, ‘Thank you Mistress’,  when I have added my spit garnish, and I always then respond, ‘I should think so!‘ The lock down does mean this applies to every single thing he consumes every single day, day after day after day.

I love his expression of humiliation and hurt both when I drop the spit, and when I say, ‘I should think so!’ in answer to his thanking me. And I feel a lovely little power rush and a reaffirmation that I own this submissive human being and I can use and abuse him howsoever I please.

Sometimes we will be in a 100% vanilla activity, when I have chosen to use him for his wonderful vanilla company, say watching a great movie or box set. The atmosphere of near equality is pierced as I drop my spit and we have our verbal exchange. Then gradually the atmosphere of near equality slowly returns, rather more quickly for me than for him though.

Degrading food and drink

On my Facebook account I came across a video with a VERY WICKED Domme surreptitiously having her slave eat and drink in a public cafe in rather degrading ways. A Facebook friend put me onto a Twitter account showing many videos of many of her tribulations for her slave also involving nectar, funnels, his toothbrush, etc. Weirdly, never does her name appear.

The original video that grabbed my attention is on the Twitter account on 3 October 2018. She then regularly appears in this account up to November 2019.

Facebook Video

Twitter video

I absolutely love this woman! Whoever she is?

 

 

 

Below I provide details of my new guide for beginner Dommes. Linked to my alternative blog and, possibly unique, as it is specifically written to avoid frightening a vanilla wife or girlfriend away from trying an FLR relationship.

 

Find Paperback                                           Find it in ePub format

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While doing something else

What was one of my favourite site themes on Tumblr has now appeared on BDSMLR, I am so pleased to say.  while-doing-something-else.  bitch-boy informed me he found it while he was doing his BDSMLR tease chore as he knew the theme is in my top 3.

It so sums up, I think other Dommes will agree, the atmosphere of REAL LIFE, long term, live-together,  Domme/sub relationships. So much time is spent with the Domme enjoying whatever she wants, excluding the sub, while the sub toils  in the background on chores somewhere or toils between her thighs, or while she sunbathes, or he is a foot-rest, or his face is a seat. Particularly while the Domme is; applying make-up, drying/fixing hair, talking on the telephone, watching TV, reading a book or magazine, eating a meal, doing one’s nails, on social media, engaged in a pleasant craft activity, chatting to a visiting female guest, ‘who is in the know’.

I have of course had bitch-boy re-blog many of the images to my BDSMLR site.

So different to the majority of Femdom images on the net where the Domme (usally a professional dominatrix), is having to focus all her attention on the male sub. Not that I have a problem with the dominatrix profession. Wonderful women!

Obviously I have to ignore the images of fucking and cock-sucking and male climaxes on this site. A girl can’t have everything!

On the topic of my BDSMLR site I now have 4,800 followers. Nowhere near the 20,000 on my old Tumblr site, but it grows steadily which I adore. I adore because so many people share the REAL LIFE tastes I have.

Almost no PVC or latex, or warehouses or dungeons or abandoned buildings. Domestic scenarios in the main, and only the women getting the pleasure and the thrills. Of course the males getting their submissive contentment when their head hits the pillow every night, even if there is little or no sexual satisfaction in their lives.

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.

My Journal No.16 is published

My 16th journal is now published.

This Journal is all about what goes on under my roof, or at least within the boundaries of my property! It will shed more light on my last post about how I have jumped another step change in cruelty which I mostly put down to having so much time on my hands and also having come to the conclusion that bitch-boy truly is unbreakable! Within a day or so of some significant use and abuse over many, many hours, he is back to normal.

Journal 16 is available as paperback and ePub as an eBook, both on LULU.com and also available on Amazon KINDLE.

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

In time it will be available on NOOK, KOBO, Scribd, Apple, Barnes & Noble, etc. I will let you know when it is. I will also then provide a Universal Book Link from Books2Read.

Published – Journal 15 – The Institute Revisited

My 15th journal is now published. (The Institute Revisited)

More of the activities, described in fine detail, that take place at The Institute. My Volume 13 on the same topic was very much appreciated, so it would be wrong of me not to detail yet more of the tribulations visitors endure at The Institute.

‘Clients’ who have little choice but to attend when summoned, thanks to the clever way the Governesses exploit the clients’ addiction for very strict discipline, ruthless control, deep humiliations and dire degradations.

Governesses, like me, who show zero pity and enjoy inflicting a wide range of activities on their clients. The clients ‘enjoy’ very little of their visit time and dislike a great deal of their suffering, but such is the paradox of the minds of true submissives, that when they have returned to the safety of their homes, they wait with mixed emotions and submissive awe for the next summoning to attend. They cannot live without feeling pitilessly dominated and there is no other entity in their lives to give them this feeling.

Journal 15 is available as paperback and ePub as an eBook, both on LULU.com and also available on Amazon KINDLE.

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

In time it will be available on NOOK, KOBO, Scribd, Apple, Barnes & Noble, etc. I will let you know when it is. I will also then provide a Universal Book Link from Books2Read.

Below are some of the comments I received on my last journal regarding The Institute:

Loved your latest journal, No.13! I read it over two days and savored each horrible/ thrilling punishment and torture of each slave. I found myself going into a form of subspace just reading it! Your best book !

I immediately purchased Journal 13 as soon as I read it was available. I have just completed only a few dozen pages, and I believe it may be one of your best. Thank you for creating the best writings for the BDSM community.

After your most excellent last Journal 13 I am very much looking forward to the new Institute Manual.

Just finished this wonderful journal and forwarded to my Mistress. She was very intrigued with the extremist nature when I told her of some of the scenarios in the volume and wanted to read it for herself.

Oh wow! Just WoW!! Purchased & read avidly in one day. This boy would so like to endure the ‘Slug’ like experience… Simply magnificent femdom – thank you for sharing your bank holiday weekend.

The Institute is a most intriguing read. Ashamed to say that despite having the print version for a fortnight, i have been unable to read page by page. i have found it so arousing (within my chastity) i keep jumping from chapter or part chapter to the next…and back again. The Institute represents all i have long embraced in a FLR/FemDom lifestyle and appreciate all the respect the submissives involved have for their superiors despite the pain, shame and debasement. A most inspiring read for both my Mistress & i.

 

Eye to Eye Tormenting

There is a phenomenon that is  very intense for both parties involved but I know of only a limited number of activities when one can indulge. This is when the Domme can be looking into the eyes of a sub, who is looking back at her, at the exact moments of regulating or increasing a torment. Such activities require that the Domme does not need to look away for even a second,  while she is regulating or increasing the intensity of the torment.

Nipple Pinching is one such activity. Not using clamps, but actually one’s fingers and thumbs.

Increasing the electrical power of a Tens Unit is another. But to be honest, even moving the dial around very slowly, it is only a second or two between, uncomfortable, and, the sub thrashing around in the their bonds and not being able to hold eye contact.

A new activity I have been enjoying experimenting with, on a bound bitch-boy, is pushing a dildo down his throat, past the gag reflex point. Doing so as I look into his pleading, distress filled eyes. SO HOT! …….. Much to his immense shame and extreme discomfort,  I am training him to be able to deep-throat a long, thrusting cock like a well practised whore. A couple of entries in my imminent new journal, recount sessions of his early training in very fine detail, including; an appropriate whore-money-maker outfit and an hour of forced video watching, while bound, of a video compilation of deep throating. Then comes the practical lesson!

Face slapping can just about work as an activity for engaging the phenomenon but I can think of no other physical activities.

So I ask dear blog reader, do you know of any other activities that engage the phenomenon of  the Domme looking into the eyes of the sub, who is looking back at her, at the exact moments of regulating or increasing a torment?

There are activities of humiliation  that can engage the phenomenon, but perhaps not quite so intensely as when physical pain/discomfort is involved. Although quite a rare event, one can lock eyes with the sub while  the Domme is speaking on the phone to a new partner Domme and arranging the new partner Domme’s first visit to one’s house. Eyes still locked with bitch-boy, as I describe to the impending visitor, the parody of a little girl outfit bitch-boy will be made to wear and the little girl activities he will be made to perform during her visit.

More common an occurrence can be a question and answer session designed to humiliate. I once had an amazing Domme visit my home and bitch-boy was indeed dying with shame as he had been made to wear a parody of a little girl outfit and his dollies were nearby. His shame reached staggering levels as she locked eyes with him and then engaged in a question and answer session. (And, oh my, her demeanour and her eyes could not have been more disdainful, cruel and mocking.) I had made clear to bitch-boy that even the slightest failure to engage fully would result in a phenomenal and immediate thrashing!

Asked with long pauses between each question, to milk every last drop of his shame from it, moving onto the next question.

Which is your favourite dolly? ………………………What’s her name? ……………………………..Why is she your favourite dolly, you little maggot? ………………………………………..What little games do you play with her. ……………………………Do you love her with all your heart? ………………………Ask her if she loves you with all her heart. And on and on and on went the questions. Poor bitch-boy was shattered by the end and his shame was so intense as he had been having to look into her disdainful, cruel and mocking eyes the whole time.

Having to do nursery rhymes with actions can also work with eyes locked.

Returning to the phenomenon in question, there is also the degradation activity when one can lock eyes, while the sub has to drink urine from source.

Finally, I can ask my girlfriend to stand behind my sub and apply cane or whip strokes to his butt, while I look into his eyes. But to engage the phenomenon each stroke must be individually requested. I can look into bitch-boy’s eyes and say, ‘The first stroke please Nicola‘. Thwack! ‘Another‘. Thwack. ‘Another.‘ Thwack! This just about engages the phenomenon but it is not quite the same as when one is physically regulating or increasing the intensity one’s self.

I’m afraid I have rambled rather. Just to be clear, I will repeat, I am requesting dear blog reader; do you know of any other activities that engage the phenomenon of  the Domme looking into the eyes of the sub, who is looking back at her, at the exact moments of regulating or increasing a torment?

My BDSMLR site

My new BDSMLR site that replaced my Tumblr site already has 1600 followers. I imagine so far BDSMLR has far fewer users than Tumblr.

My Tumblr site had over 18,000 flowers before Tumblr was sold and ‘explicit’ images were banned. I always took from the number of followers an indication that there were/are many people who share my tastes in female dominance. Particularly things not in the Femdom mainstream industry, like; #males distressed by petticoating humiliation, #males undergoing hours of tedium, #males being humiliated and ignored, #wives, girlfriends and or mothers-in-law dressed in everyday clothes humiliating a male who is naked, or is a sissy maid or school-girl, #the use and abuse of males in everyday homes, #’lesbian’ wives with their girlfriends cuckolding their chastised husbands .

So where possible, I do not post images in dungeons or where women are in corsets, leather or PVC. Some examples:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When I imply ‘I post’, that is not actually the case. bitch-boy is given a number by me, of posts to make each week, sometimes high, sometimes low. And these posts must all be images I LIKE VERY MUCH. If I do not like one, or I am inadequately titillated by one, he is, of course, punished. And given his state of sexual denial and his inescapable chastity cage, I am sure the poor thing finds this task quite a trial!

There are no posts of lesbian domination. As much as I adore a pic of a helplessly bound and very vulnerable female submissive, I feel such imagery is not suitable for male submissives to be pointed toward.

 

Zero Vanilla Time Extreme

Dirty sissy Jessica recently left comments on this blog she thought I would be interested in. She was right. Her comments identified a DS relationship she had come/cum across on Twitter. (No pun intended I hope Jessica!)

On 11 March 2018 I published a post about how long term DS relationships tend to have the magnitude of how extreme they are, defined by how much the Domme gets pleasure from the vanilla company of the sub. If she gets no pleasure from his vanilla company, then the most extreme relationship and activities quickly develop.

Well, the relationship identified by Dirty sissy Jessica certainly seems to be one where the amazing Domme gets no pleasure from the subs vanilla company; so extremes have blossomed!

It is yet another clear example of how a true submissive can become profoundly addicted to a ruthless, heartless and cruel dominant woman. Mistress Jay has a website but it is her twitter account, (@MistressJay1),  video clips that best reveal the nature of her relationship with her sub, @ButlerJonBoy. The fantastic Mistress Jay and her equally fantastic associate, Mistress Saskia, are fine examples of truly dominant women. And butler john boy gives yet another demonstration of just what true submissives will endure to obtain time in the company of cruel, heartless women.

I know for subs like my bitch-boy, who spend a proportion of their lives in vanilla time, the concept of a zero vanilla time life is probably a fantasy. But I wonder if such subs would really get more from life in such a relationship? A question impossible to answer I think.

 

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