Tag Archives: infantilsm

Dominant Mother and Daughter

In accordance with my ne policy, (given the vast majority of dear blog followers do not read many of the comments to my blog posts), here is a comments exchange that you may find of interest. Please let me know if compiling and posting such a group of comments is interesting.

The comments below were initiated by my post of 5 May 2019, about ……..

……..The females speak to each other with sweet voices and a pleasant, patient, demeanour; BUT, in an instant, when their voice is directed at the male sub, sweet and pleasant is replaced with malevolent and impatient and irritated. Then, speaking to the sub is over, and the tone and demeanour of sweet and  pleasant and patient returns as the Domme addresses a fellow female…….

Comments

The two women that dominate me, are very much like this. They are mother and daughter and so have a lot to catch up on when a weekend visit is arranged with me in attendance. 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.

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.

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.

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 almost feel she is a MIL as the cruel mother role is well suited to her, but I do get to escape for a few weeks at a time. When she wants to play though, I have to attend

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

A new form of tease and denial

I have always loved tease and denial, linked to always punishing the birth defect when it is erect. In more recent years, I love the reports of denial linked to no erections allowed ever; even if the male sees erotic things or the male isinvolved in providing sexual pleasure for others. I have reported on these situations quite often.

husband sissy maid Chrissy and Mistress Pamela and candy floss

LINK 2

I would loooove to enforce such a cruel regime on bitch-boy as the shame would be so overwhelming for him, never ever allowed to be hard, or better still unable to ever get hard, but I would miss much too much, the sadistic pleasures I get from punishing his erection. One cannot have everything! (And I do spend a lot of time punishing that erection in lots of different ways!)

So I was amazed to come across a method of humiliating tease and denial that I had never heard of before, despite my 20+ years of experience in BDSM. (I LOOOOVE learning new things!!!)

Comments on this blog from eddieh, about the regime his ‘Mommy’ enforces on him, describe this new-to-me novel approach. The essence is that, far from never allowing him erections, or punishing his erections that arise, eddie is forced by his ‘Mommy’ to spend hours, under strict monitoring, touching himself and maintaining an erection, but he is NEVER allowed to orgasm.

‘Mommy’s’ mantra is, ‘Boys cocks stay hard and boys balls stay full.’ A basis for the theme appears to be that little boys are always fiddling with their cocks.

I provide the relevant comment below which I have edited as I think the writer has English as a second language(respect to him). I also removed the things not relevant to this bog post and added things that I think fill in gaps of data in the comment. (I have asked for more details to fill theses gaps but none has been provided)

I fear punishment ever so deeply and yes at times Mommy scares me to death.

 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 but 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 explored 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 considered I had a smaller than normal penis and that she would have no choice but to treat me as a small boy. I am now for all intents and reasons her little boy. I have no assigned age which ranges 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 am not capable of being a real man.

When going out I am dressed like a small boy would be Dressed. A Disneyland character t-shirt and I only have light weight pants that have no zippers and cut with plenty of croch room in them. Mostly sweat type pants or scrub pants; that kind of thing. I am kept shaved from the neck down. 

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 is how she treats me. It is very embarrassing always being treated just like a small boy. This includes having to refer to her as Mommy when we are out and in front of her friends at home.

One thing that is very noticeable 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 frustrated hard on. Hurting, horny and frustrated with very few or no orgasms. Boys cocks stay hard…Boys balls stay full!

I learned on my first days with Mommy, after my first body hair removal, that all little boys constantly fidget with their pee-pees and do not stop until they are told. So that is what I must do. To ensure that I will be doing this 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 flaccid the ring slips off. That is a very big no-no.

When I am made to keep erect, Mommy checks at any random moment by telling me to hold my pee-pee straight down. The ring must not fall off! It does not take a lot work to keep my penis slightly large enough to keep it on. One hand fiddling with my pee- pee and I must have the thumb of my other hand in my mouth.

Of course that is not an all day or night activity, but I do spend a great deal of my free time that way. Many, many hours. Mommy has spent a great deal of time training me what erections without sexual release stand for, for her and me as well. So every night, sometimes after hours of being erect all day, I am locked into a chastity device. And I am locked into it whenever unsupervised.

You must understand that it is MOST important to Mommy that no one would think sex between us has ever happened nor, for me, sex of any kind with anyone or any gender other than my own hand has ever taken place. She reiterates this to all her friends all the time.

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 light 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 up in the air and 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 dining room table tied and uses penis teasing of different kinds, many times with vibrations from wands. She is not testing me not to cum on such times though. She always pulls the vibrator away just in time. 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 a lot of time locked in my bare 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. She also has a phone app that she can use to see and hear everything no matter were she is. She puts a bucket with a lid in the room that I can make pee-pee in.

I have to stay hard for hours and I do not even know if Mommy is looking at the camera wherever she is.

I also spend a lot of time in the living room on my baby blanket in front of Mommy’s couch. I have my black female baby doll, my blocks, coloring books and my tablet to watch infants’ cartoons on. This time is also used for breastfeeding or yum-yum time ( that can happen anytime all the time). Yum-yum time being providing oral sexual service to her.

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. I 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 very severe punishment spanking. All males should be kept hard, horny and frustrated. Boys cocks stay hard and boys balls stay full. I fear these punishments ever so deeply and yes at times Mommy scares me to death.

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. 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.

The Dolls!

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

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

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

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

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

 

The last journal detailing what goes on under my roof,

Link to Journal No. 12.

 

Dolly Potty time a great success

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

My latest journal.

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

Lulu.com –

Paperback version,       ePub version,

Amazon Kindle –

USA,    UK, 

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

Nook – Barnes and Noble

 

 

The last journal detailing what goes on under my roof,

Link to Journal No. 12.

 

 

Gap in the shaming market

In my post of the 23rd March I asked for suggestions for sourcing a potty for sale on-line that is adult sized and looks like a proper baby’s potty. One big enough that bitch-boy having to sit on it for hours, just as Courteney’s  sissy must sit on his, does not quickly become cramp inducing.

Some kind blog followers have provided suggestions, the best I think being this.

  

Especially with the lid removed.

BUT, given the huge size of the adult baby market and the cheapness of manufacturing plastic products, one would think something like the item below, in adult size, would be available as a shaming device for submissive adults.

 

How shaming would enforced time on this be! Especially in front of guests!

The DEEPEST sissy shame

I received two comments from a mummy of a sissy and I was so very pleased that I had. They are my favourite comments to have received for quite a time, mainly because of the great ideas within and how much Courteney appears a kindred spirit of mine! I have combined the comments below with an excerpt from an email exchange.

I know it is not to the taste of all who follow my blog, but those who read my journals and blog know that enforcing a parody of a little girl role on my bitch-boy, (in front of female guests, so so much better), is one of my very favourite things to do. It is one of my very favourite things to do for the simple reason that it is what deeply shames my sissy bitch-boy more than anything else. He is so SERIOUSLY humiliated and miserable when so forced. Particularly when it includes forced playing with and verbal exchanges with dollies AND at the same time includes tedium.

You will know of his colouring-in with dolly ritual. Well the commenter, Courteney, has devised another amazingly shaming and tedious dolly ritual for her sissy, that includes verbal exchanges, and tedium, that she explains in the comment at the foot of this post.

Blog followers are always very helpful with my procurement problems, so I will ask for yet more help. I have never been able to find a potty for sale on-line that is adult sized and looks like a proper baby’s potty. One big enough that bitch-boy having to sit on it for hours, just as Courteney’s  sissy must sit on his, does not quickly become cramp inducing.

I do have a supposed adult potty for bitch-boy which I have had him paint pink and put little girl stickers on. But in truth it is not that large and it is shallow so has  and has practical problems. And when you think of the size of a real baby’s potty in proportion to a real baby it is TOO SMALL!

 

COURTENEY’S COMMENTS

Dear Scarlet

Being the ‘Mummy’ of a Little Sissy myself I do enjoy reading your journals and it would be true to say they are an inspiration at times. Ian (or should I say Sissykins) has been my ‘Little’ for a number of years although, like yours, he requires constant ‘training and tuition’ in order to achieve high standards in both his Domestic and Personal Duties.

Recently I have noticed your comments on Dollies and it reminded me of one of my favourite exercises which I and many of my friends really enjoy. Sissykins has her own Potty and so does her favourite Dolly ‘Rosey’ Whenever I decide it is Pottytime she has to fetch Rosey’s Potty, lower her panties and sit her on the potty. Simultaneously I have Sissykins sit on her Potty facing Rosey.

Both are sitting there panties by ankles and I insist on eye contact between them throughout the process. Every fifteen minutes I check on Sissykins and she must check on Rosey to see ‘if Tinkles have been made’ To her Sissykins lisp and ask her Dolly if she has made Wee Wee’s brings howls of laughter from those who witness this shameful ‘performance’ It is mortifying for Sissykins to sit there for long periods regularly speaking to Rosey while adults are present. Perhaps BB would like to opportunity to experience this as well?      Perhaps BB it may amuse to know that as I write this reply Sissykins and Rosie are ‘making Potty’ here in my study!

For the life of me I cannot understand why more Females do not employ such routines and techniques. Since petticoating and babification of Sissykins I don’t think I have picked up a mop or a duster and certainly not an iron!

I do have a daughter who has two small children and I do find it incredibly amusing to remind Ian that while he has to remain in diapers and plastic panties for the rest of his life, the two young girls are able to wear ‘Big Girl’ panties; something he will never be permitted to wear.

His use, as in sex, is strictly governed by myself. He has not had ‘penetrative privileges’ for over three years now but thankfully his tongue is well trained!

Thank you so much for the kind invitation. What a deliciously delightful opportunity! I shall of course email you if I plan to be in your vicinity.

Sissykins is standing outside the bathroom at the moment awaiting both my cane and my supervision of his nightly ‘cold shower’ before his diapering and bedtime; which is always 6.30pm, so I had better leave you now.

Do let me know how the ‘Dolly Potty’ goes. I do so enjoy having Sissykins and Rosey ‘on the Potty’ when my daughter or friends visit. It is quite hilarious listening to his ‘little chats’ with is favourite Dolly while he an dolly they both sit there on their potties!
Kindest Regards

Yours Courteney (Ian’s Mummy)

Maintaining the DEEPEST HUMILIATION

I recently had a comment from a follower that included a question. I have answered the question but wondered if other Dommes may have ideas to add to my answers? First the follower’s question, (edited).

…….it appears sissy chrissy has been in her role as a sissy maid for quite sometime 24/7. I wonder then about sissy chrissy’s embarrassment at having to show his impotence to a group of women.  Of course, for a male this would be beyond humiliating but with anything, after enough time, situations can become very familiar and lose their impact. If sissy chrissy were to present herself everyday for 10 years, it is unlikely her embarrassment would be the same on day 1 as it is after 10 years.

In your experience, how do you maintain the impact of such embarrassements? Or do you think that submissives (consciously or unconsciously) allow themselves to continue feeling the embarrassment to further fuel their submission…….

My answer follows:

Regarding your question, ‘How to maintain the impact if such embarrassments?’

First I would say submissives, (consciously or unconsciously), <strong>ABSOLUTELY DO NOT </strong>allow themselves to continue feeling the embarrassment to further fuel their submission. I do not believe this is even possible. I don’t think someone can make themselves feel embarrassment if they do not feel it.

This topic is very important to me because it might actually be my favourite power rush when I have bitch-boy dressed in the absolute worst possible shaming outfit and knowing he will shortly be performing ludicrous acts in his outfit, and we stand outside the door of the room <strong>IN WHICH A NEW DOMME WOMAN HE HAS NEVER MET BEFORE</strong>, awaits. He actually physically trembles and whispers his desperate pleading and I feel SO POWERFUL smiling at and rejecting his heartfelt pleading. It is the end of the world for him. Its delicious.

So one way to maintain impact is a NEW woman to be present.

Another way is three or more women. The dynamic becomes overwhelming for the sub and they metaphorically shrink at the triple onslaught.

Another way is to make sure the women are dressed in clothes they would wear in the street. (High heels are good if they make the women taller then the male, otherwise not necessary.) The point of this is that the submissive is shamed in some extraordinary way, but at the same time, the women are not dressing in any special way linked to eroticism. He is the ludicrous creature, they are relaxed and it is just another day for them. It is not a special occasion for them. It is just a highly amusing distraction. For maximum impact they must not act up in a theatrical way, just be themselves.

Another way is big age difference. A submissive in mid forties presented with some women, one of which is in her very early twenties or a woman in say, her very late fifties seems to have a BIG IMPACT!

Other ways involve ‘small’ changes. Changes seem to bring back the full misery. Perhaps a new venue. If it is normally indoors, have it all outside on the patio. Perhaps got to one of the other women’s houses.

Another change is a change of outfit for the submissive. If it is normally sissy maid. Go for parody of a 3 year old little girl, or a parody of a ten year old 1950’s school girl, or a sissy boy outfit of huge lemon yellow satin shorts and a matching satin top with huge white Peter Pan collars.

Another change, for the particular example in question, on one occasion, paint the floppy little organ bright green with indelible stain. Or rub into the organ some nasty embrocation cream just before locking it back in its spiked cage and then laugh when the tears and physical distress begins.

Link to my journal 12.

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

A feeder bottle for my little lamb

So are there any of my followers who are farmers?

By accident I came across feeder bottles for lambs. I do think of my puppet husband, bitch-boy, as my little lamb sometimes, in so far as his helplessness. Although rather than melting into goo as I do when I see a real lamb, with my husband-lamb my reaction is very different. If he is dressed in infantile shame clothing or is in very strict bondage, or both; well those sights of my helpless lamb-husband bring out very different emotions to feeling all gooey, emotions more like bullying, sadism and abusing power.

Anyway, the lamb feeing bottles! Feeding with a real baby’s bottle does take rather a long time even if one cuts the teat, and if the bottle is upside down, it leaks. So here are my questions to experts.

With a lamb feeder bottle, is my assumption correct that, if the bottle is upside down, no liquid escapes unless the teat is sucked?

Are different teats available that allow a greater flow and others a lesser flow?

I can see these bottles are very cheap and can be boiled for sterilisation. I guess if I have no farmer blog followers to answer my questions, I will just buy a few and experiment. My imagination is working overtime with the possibilities!

 

Mature Clothed Female – Shamed male

 

 

 

 

 

43 year old William won the lottery, big time! He gave his wife of 23 years half the prize money but he left her. He could now find and live his lifelong dream; to be the live-in slave of a beautiful young dominant woman. He put the bulk of his money into a trust fund which delivered him a very large monthly sum. On a contact site, after several false starts, he finally found a Dominatrix who, when he had told her of his lottery win and his dream, agreed to have him as a live-in slave and retire from her profession. After a month of the arrangement, his personal Dominatrix had his internet bank details and pin numbers. She changed them all so only she knew how to access all his money.

Then she gave him away to her mother and aunt, both widows who lived together. Each month they received a third of his monthly income from the trust fund and the ex-dominatrix took the rest. The mature women were harsh, meticulous and ruthless in their training of him. He had no escape. When his maid’s chores were done each day, he was then dressed as a little girl and forced to play with dollies until early bedtime. The only two modes he ever now lived; maid or parody of a little girl. Always kept in the strictest chastity, allowed only spoiled orgasms and never allowed erections. Always on hand to perform the most intimate services for his mature owners, who had no shame over what each made him do for them in the privacy of her bedroom.

The beautiful young ex-dominatrix would visit every other Sunday afternoon to gloat and to laugh at him playing with his dollies. Her mother would aggressively mock him for ever thinking he was worthy of living with a such a beautiful, intelligent young woman like her daughter. This is William’s story.

Castre produces some great art. As the above image shows, for which I posted my little story to accompany the image. And here is another. The shopping trip. There are a few more on this Tumblr site and on the Petticoat Monthly website.