Tag Archives: male maid

Idle wondering and innocent images

I love to see the pro Dommes who have what appears to be their own, long term sub. Despite the income earning nature of their output, you know they are REAL in a REAL relationship. Bojana the Balkan Brat, Mistress Elaine and sissy maid Vicky, Melanie the Barefoot Princess, Cruel Sarah and her cuck, Kelli and her cuck, Louis Margot and her cuck, Princess Perfect and her sub, etc.

What I sometimes wonder about is whether some of the deliciously cruel pro Domme women who regularly appear in videos and photo shoots with many DIFFERENT subs, have a long term male sub at home? A male sub at home who suffers a regime in keeping with the cruelty these delightful women show with the subs in their videos? (And do any of them read this blog I wonder ???)

For instance, any of the women from; Miami Mean girls,  from the Brat Princesses, from Men Are Slaves, etc. And women such as Empress Jennifer,  Mistress Cindy, Mistress Elise, Brat princess Christina, Miss Barnes, Goddess Amadahy, Cybil Troy, Sarah Eve, Karin Von Kroft, etc.















Might some of these women have a full time sub at home who they do not want on video? Or do they have a vanilla male because they get all their sadism and dominance out when making femdom videos?

Just something I sometimes ponder on.


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.


Yet more from Christine M

Below is yet another wonderful contribution from my dear friend, Christine M.  Actually an email to me. After that is a part of my email response back to her. I thought some of you may be interested in the sort of email exchanges women like Christine and I enter into.


With all the lockdowns I have so much more time to write. I hope I am not sending too much or writing in too much detail. This is my latest update. Please feel free to share this on your blog.

My husband is, I am pleased to advise, more suitably attired for his cleaning duties now. It is amusing as he squirms and tries to avoid my gaze, he looks so uncomfortable whether I tease him about how sweet he looks or mock him for looking so silly! This is very new for him and he hates it! He trembles and blushes profusely, which gives me the giggles, which makes him feel even more silly! Which makes it even more fun!

I also ‘tap him up’, like girls had to put up with in the past. This leaves him frustrated given he is locked securely away. I like to fondle his cage too, grinning as I ask, “Are we still nicely locked-down for the duration? They’re saying on the news that social distancing is going to be here for at least another 12-months, perhaps even 18-months! Can you imagine that? 18-months before we even consider using your Release spreadsheet again. And, even when we do start it up again, it might be months before you score a Release Approval.” Understandably he is already crawling up the wall in frustration. He hasn’t come since the 16th of February and I tease him daily.

For his household chores, I went for very conservative attire. I wanted to accomplish three things.

  1. He was to look like a male suffering petticoat discipline, and feel suitably silly;
  2. Dressing should be a tiresome event; and
  3. His attire should be practical for completing his chores.

I ordered from a company that specialises in supplying hotels. He has a knee-length, nicely shaped tunic, designed for hotel maids. He has one in a soft pink colour, one in a light peach colour and another in a pale lemon colour. They have a double-breasted front, secured with ¾ inch diameter white buttons, two rows of two. The bottom pair are concealed by a white apron with lace trim. The tunic has a notched collar with white lapels, also trimmed with lace; and puffed, short sleeves with white cuffs with lace trim. They have no pockets. They are conservative, smart, decorous and practical.

He wears them with a pair of plain white nylon panties, a white full-length elasticated girdle with white stockings, with seams to be kept razor straight. He then wears a pair of white cotton knickers, with a small pink bow at their front, followed by a pair of bloomers with frilly lace trim and pink ribbons, and a white nylon slip. The bloomers can’t be seen under the tunic. His uniform is completed with low-heel white pumps and respectively a pink, peach, or pale-yellow silk head scarf. The scarf is wrapped up from the back and tied turban-style in a bow at the front. It must be neatly secured with no hair showing. In the evening he is often muzzle-gagged too.

I think he hates wearing the silk scarf more than anything, it really makes him feel so silly. He also has to shave all his body hair twice weekly, so he has lovely smooth skin, very feminine. I caress his stocking clad legs which makes him ache for release, but they do feel so beautifully soft.

He now sets his alarm each morning for 4-20 am, earlier if he has to shave his legs and body. He must rise instantly without waking me. Then he showers, shaves, and goes to the laundry to dress in his maid’s uniform. His tunic has to be ironed before the start of each shift. He then cleans all the bathrooms and front porch as required. The cleaning takes about thirty-five minutes. He then has to iron his school blouse and tunic, and dress for his written assignment. His maid’s uniform is hung neatly in the laundry as he will be wearing it again in the evening.

Since I don’t want him rushing around before doing his written work, he is now required to be seated at his desk by twenty-minutes to six, to provide time to relax. He recently learnt, the hard way, since I woke early and checked the security monitor; that if he is ready and dressed in his uniform, he should not laze around waiting until this time. He should seat himself down early, hands on head. For that little lapse he received a dozen cuts of the cane and his detention the next morning was brought forward by an hour, allowing for 3-hours of writing.

He used to so look forward to the weekend when we were using his chastity spreadsheet, even though he rarely earned a release, and sometimes scored a Linnex. Now he dreads Sundays and feels they arrive too quickly and too often!

His hygiene program starts right after he has finished his written assignment. He is cleansed in our detention/ punishment room, I call it ‘my study’, since my desk is also in this room. There is also a metal bed with a thin mattress for him. It has two grey blankets, with white sheets turned over at the top, so it looks very institutional. I move the pillow down to the centre and a place a large beach towel over it. On my desk is a tray, covered by a white towel. This houses the razor, disinfectant soap, scrubbing brush, a large bowl, a jug of cold water, a kettle, a thermometer, a nylon stocking, a plastic ruler, dental brushes, a fresh lemon, white flannels, a pair of yellow kitchen gloves, the Linnex stick and a lighter. Lying on top of the towel is a pair of industrial rubber gloves.

On completion of his assignment, he is sent straight to the laundry to undress. He then returns to the study and stands upright, nose and toes to the wall, hands on head, and waits for me. He must wait without moving, knowing I can check the security camera. Usually I arrive within ½ an hour, but my sister called one morning, and it was well over 2-hours before I came in.

I dress casually, often in a track suit or jeans and a flannel shirt. He is left in place as I start my preparations and don the yellow kitchen gloves. I then secure his muzzle while he is still face to the wall. I love the drama of this as he is then curtly told to turn around. Nothing sexy to turn him on. I play lightly with his nipples and he his soon stirring and groaning, longing for relief, blissful but scared. He is then secured to the bed, his hips raised up and his cage removed.

I play with him for up to ½ an hour, using the silk scarf and my rubber gloved hands. I never touch him with my bare skin. His gristle his fit to burst, it gets so hard, and I tease and edge him relentlessly, … until it is time for his scrub down! The kettle is boiled, the heavy-duty gloves put on and the water added to the bowl with the temperature checked and adjusted to 48 degrees Celsius. He is then shaved and washed. He remains erect through this and actually hardens up when, with worried eyes, he sees me freshen the water bowl and rub the soap into the scrubbing brush.

This is a proper bristle brush, small in size, though bigger than a nail brush. The bristles are very stiff and prickly. It is so funny to watch as he starts to panic and whimper through his muzzle before I even start, while his erection, in stark contrast, stands up ever so proudly. I scrub harshly and pitilessly, and he is soon moaning into his muzzle. The sound is muffled, the pain obvious as he screws his eyes shut and writhes and bucks against his bonds.

I take my time, pausing only to top up the brush with more soap. I do not stop until the skin is well-reddened and lightly chafed. This will ensure the Linnex will burn more fiercely at these points. I remain focused on the task, my mouth set firm, his predicament and pain ignored. I scrub rigorously. Tears are expected, shed and ridiculed. “My, my,” I crossly intone, “what a lot of fuss you make!” Despite the distress, his erection remains surprisingly firm.

The water is then refreshed, and the temperature carefully adjusted again. The soap is removed with hot flannels which are pressed firmly around his organ and held there for up to a minute. The lemon juice is then squeezed into his urethra and the dental brush put to work, again he twists against his bonds.

He is then cleaned up again with hot flannels, roughly dried with a towel, and it is time for the Linnex. He is clearly distraught and struggling to cope, tears have already flowed, but many more will flow before we finish, no compassion will be shown. He knows this, even as he pleads with his eyes for mercy. I simply smile as I slowly remove the cap to the Linnex, push the orangey-coloured wax out a little and gently warm it with the lighter. I am amused, damp between my legs, as I watch his erection strengthen. I gently stroke it with my rubber gloved hands, it hardens further, though he winces. It is sore, but worse pain is to come.

I pause and smile, gazing dispassionately into his eyes, holding the stick between us. The Linnex is then pressed firmly down and layer after layer applied. He whimpers. I spend 2-3 minutes thoroughly coating his appendage. Our eyes lock together again, mine are calm, unwavering; his display hopefulness tinged with anxious trepidation, the burning is yet to begin. We wait. I know the pain will come, he prays that this time it won’t. It will take a few minutes, then it will flood through his gristle. It always arrives, yet each time he lives in the hope it will not. I am excited now, my eyes sparkle, a smile creases my lips, I can see that first tendrils of warmth have arrived, the heat is gently seeping through into his consciousness. The look in his eyes turns to deep concern, then fretfulness, then panic creeps in, and finally real terror as the fiery burn surges forth. He wriggles uncomfortably, then he starts to gyrate his loins as the pain arrives in waves. The full searing, blistering heat has now burst violently through, spiked even more fiercely where the skin is chafed.

I can hear his screams through the muzzle, he tugs and twists and jerks more violently against his bonds. His muscles go taut as he strains against his bonds. I use Segufix ties now. He is very secure, there is barely any ‘wriggle room’ and the bed is soon shaking from his attempted wild thrashing. By ten minutes the pain is at its crescendo. The fiery tendrils envelop and sear deep into his gristle. The pain is intolerable. He jerks and wrenches frenetically at his bonds. His muffled screams have become muffled shrieks. The bed shudders and creaks. He can’t bear the vicious pain, but there is no relief, no release. He is inescapably secured, he has no option but to endure the intense agony for as long as it burns. It will blaze ferociously for at least 50-minutes before slowly subsiding. The prior scrubbing making it more sensitive to the scalding heat and his gristle is roasted on high.

I take a special item, just for me, from out of my desk drawer and dreamily watch for a while in deep pleasure.

He is not released until it is safely back in its cage. It is clear he remains ever so tender and he winces as he stands and moves. The pain is still evident in his teary eyes, his hair is dishevelled, he is exhausted and barely coherent as he cuddles me tenderly, yet ever so carefully. He wants only to pleasure me, to collapse and sleep. He is as fatigued and drained as if he had run a marathon. He is relived it is over.

But he won’t be allowed to pleasure me yet. Nor will he will be able to lie down and recover. It is time to iron and don his uniform and get on with his household chores. Not until the evening will he be granted the reward of pleasing me.

I smile as he winces and struggles to complete his chores. He is quiet, subdued, wearied; but he must work as hard and diligently as normal. There is no consideration shown for his plight. If his work is not up to standard or if he should dare slowdown from the demanding pace required when doing chores, he will find his backside is well-striped by my cane. Not a pleasant thought at the best of times, but far worse given his fatigued state plus, only the day before, he had his panties dusted for ½ an hour with my heavy wooden hairbrush, for presenting me with some untidy ironing.

He is still teary as he scurries about. He is feeling very sorry for himself. I know he is craving some sympathy, a tender hug, a little kind-heartedness, a touch of compassion; but there will be none forthcoming. He is ignored, he has work to do; at best he will get a sharp rebuke if I think he might be slacking.

I may be going crazy like everyone else with the Covid-19 restrictions, but my husband is definitely doing it harder. More than anyone he is looking forward to the ending of these restrictions and going back to full time work!

He has never been so repressed, and I can tell he is really struggling. I have made it very clear that I will not be relenting. It is leaving him very conflicted. When he asks for some mercy and relaxation of his regime in our vanilla talks, I am resolute. I show no benevolence. It is so amusing since, despite the clear angst and misery he feels, he can’t hide his passionate craving for more of me. He clings tightly to me, sometimes on the edge of joyous tears, and professes his love. It is visceral.

I enjoy it so much, and he pleases me so zealously, so it is never going to change for him. He was born to suffer. I would like to say for a beautiful woman, but I am not one to turn men’s eyes.




Hi Christine
…………. An aspect of his maid’s outfit I love is the massive amount of room you have left for escalation. Despite his current deep humiliation, there is so much escalation potential. Even if you never move to a full-on frilly french maids outfit, or even worse, a sissy maids outfit with dress hem coming down only to his hips, you can mind-fuck him on the next possible escalation. To be acted on in 6 weeks, 6 months, or 6 years!. Wonderful. Has your sister seen him in his maids outfit yet? (Or his little girl outfit???)
Two things really struck me. The first; I think, like me, you find that when administering dickie-discipline, the fact that the object stays rock hard, while we scrub, or smack, or wrap in hot flannels, etc. is both an aphrodisiac and a delight.  It is like it is not part of them. It is this hard thing we can abuse howsoever we want and it simply stays rock hard and convenient. (I don’t think I have expained myself very well.)
The second thing is the pleasure and importance of no mercy. Perfect symbiosis. When they are really tired, to show zero mercy, is very arousing for us, a serious, decadent power rush, and, although their sensible self would adore some mercy, their submissive souls react with worship and awe when mercy is denied!
‘……………… I can tell he is really struggling. I have made it very clear that I will not be relenting. ………….. he asks for some mercy and relaxation of his regime ……….., I am resolute. I show no benevolence. ……………..despite [his]clear angst and misery ……. he can’t hide his passionate craving for more of me…………………. and professes his love. It is visceral…….
With your permission I will make your email into a blog post shortly. Thank you.
Stay safe

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.

Christine M’s Covid-19 lock down regime

I have the pleasure and privilege to be in regular email exchanges with Christine M. Below is an awesome email from her I recently received. I need add nothing more!

Hello Scarlet,

With the outbreak of Covid-19 the government announced a lockdown on many personal freedoms. A further consequence is that my husband is now working from home, and has both reduced hours, due to the business effects and his inability to travel overseas.

The first Sunday after the restrictions were announced, we sat down for his weekly Chastity Release Application. He was most forlorn when I announced that, with the country in lockdown, it was important that we brought in our own strict measures. Starting immediately, I advised:

1.     He was being placed into a hard chastity lockdown. This morning’s application for release was cancelled and there would be no further Release Applications for at least 6-months, after which the situation would be reviewed.

If at that time, all Covid-19 restrictions were removed, his Release Applications would be reinstated. Otherwise he should expect his lockdown to be extended for further 6-month periods before being reviewed. (Tears formed as I explained this, it was delightful.)

He will still earn Release Refused and Release Approved additions to his Chastity spreadsheet during his hard chastity lockdown period. However, the value of Release Approved additions will be halved.

2.     Given the increased requirements for personal hygiene I would, starting that morning, take over the weekend cleaning of his appendage in order to ensure the highest hygiene standards were maintained. This would mean it would be shaved very closely before receiving a lengthy and extremely harsh scrubbing with a stiff bristled brush and disinfectant soap, followed by a cleansing treatment with hot towels. His urethra would be cleansed with pure lemon juice and a dental brush. I would be wearing industrial rubber gloves for the process!

Since the thoroughness of the scrub down would leave him feeling very sore and tender, and very much in need of a soothing balm to provide some relief, I would finish by applying a generous coating of and Linnex rubbing it well in.

3.     Similarly, with improved hygiene needed around the home, we would need to increase the cleaning frequency of high-risk areas.

The kitchen would now be scrubbed down twice daily, after lunch and after dinner.

Every toilet, shower and wash basin would be scrubbed down each morning before he commences his day, then after lunch and again after 9-00 pm. (This takes 30 minutes each time and is required whether they have been used or not used.)

The linen on our bed is to be washed, ironed and replaced every 3-days instead of weekly.

4.     He would also be required to wear a face mask when doing his chores each evening.

Recently I bought a psyche ward medical muzzle gag from Sinvention.

This is rather like what Hannibal Lector wore. It ensures he cannot talk, and his screams are greatly dampened. This had been for wearing when he received a Linnex application but would now also be worn each evening when doing his chores.

5.     He is strictly confined and must remain IN the house at all times. He is not permitted to step outside, not even into the garden. I will shop for all essentials. (He later raised about getting a hair-cut, and  blanched when I advised I would be styling his hair!)

6.     To ensure he remains mentally stimulated and doesn’t get bored with the government’s directions to remain home, he will have a written assignment to complete each morning between 6-00 am and 8-00 am.

(This requires him to dress in full schoolgirl uniform, as described previously, and means he must have actually commenced writing by 6-00 am. There is a security camera present, so he knows I can glance from my bed to check on him. I can also talk through the app to him from anywhere.

His exercise is very ‘mentally stimulating’. He has to copy out the same 140-word passage from Virgil (in Latin) every day, with full detention rules applying, plus the following specific instructions for the presentation of his work:

All uppercase letters written in Red ink A – Z
Vowels Blue ink a e i o u
Consonants with a stem above the x-height Green ink b d f h k l t
Consonants with a stem below the base line Purple ink g j p q y
Consonants within the base line and x-height Black   ink c m n r s v w x z
Every 26th word in light blue ink
Every 9th word in UPPER CASE
Every 15th word Underlined in red

The beauty of this is that I can easily change the details of the centre column for each day. This maintains the mental stimulation as he has to start afresh every time.

He is required to copy it out twice in the 2-hours of his detention. He is allowed two errors per page, which are to be ruled through neatly in red. If he makes a third error, the page is to be removed and discarded.

If he does not complete the 2-copies, he must attend a further one-hour detention that evening and his detention the following morning is extended by one-hour, meaning a 5-00 am start to writing. He also gets three Application Refused additions to his Chastity spreadsheet.

If on checking I find an error, he will also receive 24-strokes of the cane. He now also gets five Application Refused additions to his Chastity spreadsheet and a double Linnex at the weekend.

This I felt should provide him plenty of incentive to work diligently each morning and not try to hide any errors. Two copies are quite achievable if he works conscientiously and carefully. It does mean he can’t relax at all. He has to work continuously, quickly and stay very focused for every moment of the 2-hours. It certainly provides a very demanding, tiresome and strenuous start to his day.

Needless to say, he was totally distraught by the time I had finished detailing his new regime and begging and pleading for this not to be implemented. His pleadings actually got to the point where I finally snapped and told him he would be getting a double Linnex. That shut him up as I set about gagging and securing him for the scrub down of his appendage and the Linnex.

With him secured, and erect, I then had a little spark of an idea. I told him while, featherlike, I gently stroked, barely touching, the underside of his very rigid erection with my fingernails, “I am thinking David,” I smirked, “it might be a good idea if you give my sister a call later. You can tell her all about our new lockdown procedures and ask her if she can think of anything we might have missed. What do you think?” I could not keep a straight face watching the look of horror in his eyes. Of course, since he was gagged, he couldn’t pass comment, which I took as meaning he thought it was a good idea! I did make him make the call too!

I found it incredibly ‘arousing’ sitting across from him as he called. He was literally shaking like a leaf. This strong, athletic man who is so decisive in business, terrified of having to make a phone call. I was actually really ‘wet’. I have never really used humiliation like this before and never had I realised how much it would energise me. I was tingling. (There was a time when I dressed him in a romper suit and made him throw a temper tantrum asking to play with his dollies, but I haven’t done that for a while. And that only ever involved me as a witness.)

I decided then and there, humiliations, especially in front of others, were going to happen much more often! And Scarlet, you have provided so many wonderful ideas! And Joan also just posted some great ‘food-for-thought’ on this. He has no idea what is coming! (NB he is not allowed to read your Blog, nor any other adult content sites.)

He was lost for words when he spoke with my sister, and I could hear the amusement in her voice as she toyed with him, coaxing all the details out of him and laughing at his plight. He went redder and redder!

He then had to tell me what she had suggested, which left him further squirming as she had suggested that, with the need for improved hygiene, he should ask me if he could have a special uniform to wear when he does his housework!

He was so morose as I laughed loudly, telling him, “Oh, yes, you most certainly can! And we’ll make sure to invite my sister over to see you wearing it!” It is so good mail order is still going. I have been able to put together a couple of outfits for him. Perhaps you’d like me to share more on this too?

I will finish for now by noting that, despite my extreme cruelty, that evening, he was positively anxious to ensure he ‘pleased me’. Indeed, an early night and his reverence and attentiveness for over 2-hours earned him ½ a Release Credit! When I was sated, he cuddled me closely and professed his adoration.

I was in a state of bliss as smiling warmly, I brought him back to reality by reminding him, “You need to get a good night’s sleep now, you have a very early start remember. I’ve set your alarm for 5 o’clock, but you might need to think about getting up a little earlier. You have to shave and shower; then clean all the bathrooms. The bathroom are going to take you at least ½ an hour; and then you still have to change into your schoolgirl’s uniform ready to start your written work.

And I want you seated at your desk, hands-on-head, no later than ten minutes to six, so you can start to clear your mind and focus on the task ahead. I’ve left everything you’ll need on your desk, with your assignment instructions placed face-down. You’ll need to set an alarm on your phone for one-minute before 6 o’clock. Once it rings, you will need to switch your phone off and place it on the floor before turning your instructions over ready to start work.”

I couldn’t help but feeling contented as he went deathly quiet as the harsh reality of the next morning was thrust upon him. He sighed loudly as he rolled over to advance his alarm by fifteen minutes; and I couldn’t resist then sending him under the covers again!

I actually set my alarm for 5-minutes before six o’clock as I wanted to see the look of shock on his face when he saw how arduous his task was. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be for him to get up each morning and face his bleak start to the day. And this is going to be for several months it seems!

Lots of Love




Christine M – Chastity Developments

Below is an email I received from the fantastic Christine M. I will firstly say how delicious I myself find it, to apply extreme unfairness to a submissive. It is such heartless meanness. And I think, because the submissive has to just suck it up, it is real evidence to them that they are helplessly in the power of a pitiless cruel woman. (And we all know that is the situation for a sub to be in that most has them sleep a contented and deep, submissive sleep.)
A punishment out of all proportion to the seriousness of the infraction, when it was largely unfair to punish in the first place, is the most delicious unfairness of all!
28 March 2020
Subject: Chastity Developments

Hello Scarlet

Having written this, I forgot all about sending it to you. This happened at the end of February, so nearly 4-weeks ago. So please accept my apologies with this belated update on his chastity regime. Since then Covid-19 has arrived, and I must write to you soon on the big changes that I have introduced for that. I think my husband now has the most severe lock-down procedures in the country! Please, when reading on, remember, this is what I wrote 4-weeks ago.

“I have mentioned before that I wanted to reduce my husband’s chances of securing a release through our Computer spreadsheet-based Chastity Release Program. His good behaviour rewards have seen his mathematical chances of success rise greatly to one chance in six; this means that, over time, it is inevitable he will have too many releases for my liking. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but I wanted to do it in a manner that would cause him the greatest upset.

I wanted to punish him for something minor, and in a manner that was out of all proportion to the offence.

First, a little background to the unfairness of what happened. A couple of days earlier, I had knocked over and broken a long-stemmed wine glass. It was placed on a small round table in the lounge, one which is a little unstable, it rocks a little as the legs are not level. I should also add that we have polished wooden floors. My husband of course had to clean up the mess on hands and knees, and that was the end of the matter.

Well, just two evenings later, my husband did the same thing, knocked over a long-stemmed wine glass off the same table. Better still, for my plans, was the fact that my sister was visiting. She is the only other person who knows about his ‘situation’. She had brought the bottle of wine with her, and it was her glass he knocked over. He had been called out from the laundry to pass around some nibbles, before getting back to his chores.

His clumsiness was greeted with icy fury from me! I deliberately acted as though I was lividly enraged! He cowered in fear as my sister tried to keep a straight face. I scolded him most vehemently about his carelessness, which I equate as just being lazy. I was very harsh reprimanding him heatedly, telling him he was stupid and worse. I even made him apologise to my sister for his behaviour!

He pitifully tried to excuse himself. This just gave me cause to berate him further for his negligence. I rebuked him about the cost and the waste of the wine, that it was rude to my sister… Then I snapped, “You can get yourself into my office NOW, and make a note for me to change twenty Release Approvals to Release Refused in your spreadsheet!

Needless to say, he was in shock from the anger I displayed, not to mention the severity and unfairness of my punishment; especially since I had broken and spilled a glass of wine two-days earlier. He knew full well that cancelling Release Approvals would, mathematically, far more severely reduce his chances of a release than adding extra Release Refusals. This was the first time I had done this, and it was for just this reason. It was also a very much higher number than usual. I think five Refusals was the worst previously.

That was all I had pre-planned to bring the ratio down a good bit, but he had the temerity to voice his feelings about how unfair this was, and how it was too easy for me to just cancel twenty release options that take him so long to earn. He then dared to remind me that I had knocked a glass over just two-days earlier.

Oh dear, I couldn’t let that pass! “Make that THIRTY!” I angrily barked, as he literally burst into tears, he was so upset by my wrath! All in front of my sister too! (I mentioned before he dislikes intensely the ease with which I add refusal options. He would prefer to be caned, despite that being a very painful ordeal.)

I then coldly ordered, “Wait!” before turning to my sister and asking her what she thought of his behaviour and, since it was her wine he had spilt, would she like to add anything. My husband looked on horrified through his tears. This, as I mentioned was all unplanned, though she was aware of his regime. She grinned and advised that she thought there was simply no excuse for his gross laziness and since it was her wine he had spilt, meaning he had wasted her money, she would like to add thirty Refusals to his spreadsheet too. I really must involve my dear sister more!

He was totally overcome, but there was no sympathy shown. He was coldly told to clean up the mess and then get back to his ironing! We laughed so hard about it as he scrubbed the floor, bright red with humiliation and no doubt seething with resentment!

When I made the changes to the spreadsheet, his chance of a release had blown out to nearly one in seventeen, a probability of once every four months! I gleefully informed him of the ratio change the following weekend before he had his weekly go on the spreadsheet. He was so very quiet and despondent. After all he had not come for over two months, and his chances were not looking good now. Mind you, believe it or not, he drew RELEASE APPROVED!!!

Footnote, he has not had a release since.

Public humiliation by MS Joan

I have been so very fortunate this past year with so many fantastic REAL LIFE Mistresses in stable relationships with a sub, contacting me. engaging with me in email exchanges and generously making comments on my blog posts. And I continue to be so very fortunate having been contacted by yet another REAL LIFE Mistress in stable relationships with a sub.

The latest treasure, Ms Joan. And just like Mistress Samantha, myself and a few others, another Mistress who does not work and whose husband has retired .  Ms Joan is pretty new to her dominance but a couple of examples of her life with her submissive husband, reveal what a fantastic dominant mind she has.

The first, in her own words, involving that very powerful thing, public humiliation in front of another woman who is unfamiliar to them.

………… Your style of dress and that of the other Ladies, who have given accounts on your alternative blog, is similar to mine. Never would I ever be seen dressing up in latex or any other silly costumes to satisfy my husbands cravings. My clothing is just normal everyday wear from the better high street shops. Although I do like to wear leather, but again this is normal clothing, jackets, skirts, trousers and a couple of full length coats amongst my many other clothes.

………………. We were going away for a couple of nights to a rather nice hotel, booked in my name of course. He was allowed a small overnight bag with 1 change of clothes, I had a medium size suitcase with several changes of clothes, dresses, skirts, tops, trousers, shoes, boots and a couple of coats and jackets in a long garment bag, these were all packed by him at home under my supervision. 

At the check in, with me signing in and hubby stood behind with the bags, I asked the receptionist, a nice suited Lady in her late thirties, where the bar was as I really needed a glass of wine after the drive. Then turning to hubby I said, ‘Wasn’t there something you wanted to ask?’

Red faced he asked if there was an iron in the room or if he could borrow one. Being told there was one in the wardrobe, I commented, ‘There you go darling, go and unpack and come and join me in the bar after your ironing, but please don’t leave any creases.‘ And with a smugness and a smile from the receptionist, I turned on my heel, heading for a dink and I didn’t even look back………………

Example 2 of the fantastic dominant mind of Ms Joan is her financial control and domination.

…………… My husband introduced me to your blog several months ago in the hope that I would dominate him…………. I have always known he is submissive and he even confessed this to me 40 years ago before we were married. Of course this was before the internet and there was very little written resources available. In reality we just played at this really as foreplay to sex, me calling him slave and having him lick my boots or shoes. Children, family and demanding work came along so it was rare that we ever engaged in these roles.

Now retired this has raised its head again and after much pleading by hubby I decided to try to be a Mistress of the house. One of the things I did learn within business, the person who controls the budget has the real power. Consequently I took away all his credit cards and cut them up, he is allowed a single debit card of which I can track and view any spending he has made. He certainly is never given cash to fritter away and spend as he likes.

Unless permitted by me to do otherwise, he can only use it to fill the cars with fuel and shop at supermarkets. He must give me the till receipts for me to check for any unwanted items like whisky which he loves, or rather vary rarely does nowadays!

Ms Josephine Drake

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

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

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

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

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


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

This is a link to my journals.



Inspired Clever Domination!

Another wonderful real life Domme, Miss Hannahbelle has begun leaving comments and exchanging emails with me. In her first comment I was so very impressed by a couple of instances of extreme cleverness, especially the second of the two. The cleverness employed motivated by a delightful drive to maximise the effects of her dominance.

I will first share the content of Miss Hannahbelle’s comment though:

He has had absolutely no orgasm whatsoever in the past two years but he endures almost daily edging sessions where he is securely bound before I take great pleasure in driving him to the edge over and over again with no relief for him. Eventually I’ll lock him back up before releasing his bondage, never  – before he is locked back in his cage. Quite often these edging sessions will last several hours and I have been known to have him secured for an entire weekend whilst I drive him to insanity.

I am very keen that he doesn’t try and fall into a sort of trance where he can drive down his libido whilst in chastity. I want him constantly horny and aroused but with absolutely no way of doing anything about it. I know all his kinks and desires (it’s amazing what you can get a guy to admit to when you have him moments from the edge!) and I use these to keep him turned on.

As for his tasks my favourite has been getting him to walk around our neighbourhood in varying states of humiliating dress. Initially, in order to earn an ejaculation, I gave him the option of taking a number of enemas and then having to walk a predetermined course around the nearby roads whilst wearing 7 inch high heels. I allowed him male clothing but he had to wear the heels. He attempted the task a few times but failed badly within moments of leaving the house. Essentially he just can’t walk in the heels, they are too high for him. So I gave him another chance. He could choose to replace the 7 inch heels with 6 inch heels which he can walk in. However, instead of wearing his male clothes he would have to wear his latex maids outfit, corset, stockings, gloves and collar. Were he to decide to go with this choice, then he wouldn’t be able to chose the other one ever again, this would be his commitment.

The conflict he endured in making this decision was wonderful. I gave him 24 hours to mull it over and torment himself. Should he take the risk of being seen in full maids dress but have more chance of completing the course in heels he could walk in or should he try and improve his performance in the higher heels, reducing his chances of being seen in humiliating clothes but making the chances of completing the course much less likely?

Neither choice is ideal but if he wanted a chance to ever cum again he would have to chose one. I just love the torment he went through in making this decision.

So, for me, the first instance of extreme cleverness, was to extract from him his darkest fantasies under the power of the edging desperation and then use those very fantasies to keep him sexually aroused and so very frustrated, when he otherwise may have flagged.

And the awesome second instance of psychological cleverness: Giving him two terrible things to choose from to earn release AND giving him a long deadline to make his choice, (a long time to be in anguish), AND (the coup de grace), telling him the option he does not choose is gone for ever! So massively ramping up the enormity of the terrible  decision!  Wow.

Below I provide some excepts of additional correspondence from the amazing Miss Hannahbelle.

……… When we met he was in a chastity cage. He was terrified I would be scared off but also had the confidence to try and start a relationship with me. He recognised the innate need for him to be under someone’s control and so, whilst scared what I might think of him, he felt he had little to lose if he wanted to be truthful to himself. Somehow the stars aligned for us both as what he didn’t know at the time was that I did have some experience in the world of domination, having spent some time working as a pro-Domme apprentice to pay my way through my second year at university. I enjoyed my work but had never really taken it into a relationship beyond a bit of bondage. Our relationship has changed all that now! Meeting him has really fired my dominant side and he has responded in kind too. I do wonder if he regrets some of his decisions though. I love the great conflict inside him of being absolutely desperate to cum but also loving that he has found someone who is willing and able to keep him locked, denied and frustrated.
In terms of his kinks I use them on him in all sorts of ways, many of which work wonderfully in conjunction with our lifestyle. He is a keen rubberist and I am very happy to dress him up in lots of layers of rubber, but I always ensure it has a feminine edge to it. He is also a high heel addict, and I take every opportunity to wear heels to arouse him. But I also took the opportunity to get him wearing heels more (he had done so a little in the past) and have been training him in wearing higher and higher heels. I have even bought him ballet boots but he can barely stand in them at present. One day maybe I’ll really train him up in them!
………… Fantasising about being locked in permanent chastity is one thing, living it is quite something else. The same about fantasising of being rubberised compared to having to walk outside in public in rubber sissy clothes.
………………….. I was pleased to hear that you padlock bitch-boy’s heels on him. I have used high heel locking straps regularly to assist in his training. I’ve spent a long time getting him up to the 6 inch heels and I must say he is fairly proficient in them. As I mentioned, the 7 inch heels are a real struggle for him though, which gives me some great leverage over him. I have actually installed a treadmill in our playroom and love to watch him practicing on it. Recently I’ve bought him a pair of 5 inch mules which he is really struggling with because of the lack of ankle strap. They are so sexy on him though and I love to tell him that. He does have very sexy legs, especially when in his latex stockings!
I’ve just spent a lovely hour with him in his strait jacket and ankle spreader locked on him whilst giving him a long and frustrating blowjob. I sat on his face for most of it and loved hearing his begging and moaning through my pussy. He’s currently cooling down with an ice pack on his cock whilst I write you this email. I’ll head back and lock him back in his cage in a minute. I’ve also mentioned that if we end up having to self isolate then he can look forward to some seriously prolonged edging sessions.



More from Christine M and from Ms Sonia Meloni

Well we are spoiled! First is a comment from the amazing Christine M on subjecting her puppet to extreme tedium for her sadistic pleasure and maintaining his subjugation.  This is in response to the post from the fabulous Miss Anne on the same topic. (It is interesting but understandable that enforced high standard ironing is a tedium torment employed by Christine, myself and, I think, by Anne.)

Then we have a piece from the awesome Sonia Meloni, on that switch moment I posted about, when vanilla changes in an instant to DS!

I will start though with a couple of paragraphs on my current favourite humiliation/ tedium torment for my puppet.

As most of you will know I use humiliation-tedium A LOT on bitch-boy for my sadistic pleasure and for maintaining his subjugation. You may recall in an earlier post I wrote about one activity, (for which there is a very detailed description in my, recently published, Journal No. 16,)  –  bitch-boy, over and over again, performing a number of nursery rhymes with actions to all his dollies, and interacting with each of them verbally about each and every rendition. He is in an upstairs room and I set up the video baby monitor and I am in the sitting room getting on with whatever I wish. From the baby monitor I can be serenaded by the sounds of his profound misery as he performs, which I can check on with a glance at the baby monitor, from time to time, to check his nursery rhyme actions are being performed too.

He does not have me in the same room to at least get the compensation of seeing my body in my skin tight or skimpy attire. He does not even know if I glance at the screen or have the sound turned up to hear him. Although he does hear my orgasmic cries every 20 minutes or so. I get so turned on because he is so extremely miserable, understandably! He HATES IT, REALLY, REALLY HATES IT! But he has to keep going for a minimum of an hour, or more usually two, or more! I visit him briefly two or three times, carrying my dressage whip, just to remind him what the cost would be to him to fail to perform perfectly for as long as I wish.

Anyway enough about my use of humiliation/tedium tormenting. On to Christine M!


Christine M – Humiliation / Tedium


This is written to share Anne and your requests for views on tedium. It is in many ways an odd aspect for a dominant to enjoy, but I do get a great thrill out of being able to bring such misery and frustration to my husband. He is someone who thrives on variety and hates detailed work. He’s a ‘big picture man’, which sadly for him, makes it even more delightful to treat him in this manner.

Firstly, I do not believe he should ever consider completing household chores as tedious, even if I add aspects that make the tasks more tiresome and repetitive. Chores are being completed to keep the house clean and well-presented; to keep our clothes looking good, so we dress smartly; to remove the drudgery of performing those tasks from my life, thus enabling me to do more enjoyable things; and to ensure I, and my guests, enjoy the ambience of our home. I expect him therefore to take great pleasure and pride in working vigorously and conscientiously to complete these tasks, to my VERY EXACTING standards. I also love it when visitors comment on how beautifully clean I keep our home! Of course, I take all the credit, after all, I am the one who ‘manages’ the work.

At least one evening each week, he has a full night of chores. This allows him to spend more time with me on other evenings, and keeps him in his place! I accept he might consider that, having worked all day at a stressful, high intensity job that, after an enjoyable meal together, an hour fervently scrubbing down the kitchen; followed by over two hours thoroughly cleaning two bathrooms and the dining room; before finishing off the evening with three hours of ironing, with precise instructions on how everything is to be folded; is very demanding and wearying… That’s what he did the other night though!

And woe betide him if his work is anything less than perfect, or that he does anything other than thank me profusely for scheduling his chores and STRICTLY supervising his work! And whilst this means it is usually gone midnight before he gets to bed on such nights, he had better be very enthusiastic in pleasing me when he does! I simply do not accept tiredness as an excuse for anything.    NB This is only one or, very occasionally, two nights in a week; most other nights he might only have 2-3 hours of housework; or if we go out, he will likely have no chores.

I have really provided unnecessary tedium only to the daily kitchen cleaning, as I detailed in an earlier post. This was to display and contrast my power and his servile position, and it was his first chore. It does provide such a wonderful contrast to our roles though.

There was a time he might have let out sighs, or rolled his eyes, completing tasks that bored him; he has learnt better. And now, though I know he absolutely dreads the tedium of cleaning the kitchen floor on his hands and knees, every day; he buckles down and gets it done, while I relax in the next room.

Writing lines has been the real focus of tedium in his life. This is also why I have a detailed [schoolgirl] uniform for him to wear, I can but imagine the dread he has as he goes through the rigmarole of dressing as required and then sitting down for many hours writing without a break. I could not imagine doing it, especially night after night! A 45-minute detention in my school days was soul-destroying, to be doing 6-hours of writing, after a day of work or travel, is a horrifying thought, some might even consider it abusive!

Yet, he often spends night after night, writing page after page; locked in the sheer boredom of the writing, the tedium, the dull, dreary, lonely, silent, monotony. Some evenings, I also add some exceptionally tedious ‘twists’ to his line writing. With his essays, he has the added struggle and exasperation of structuring the essay and thinking about what to write. A six-page essay written on narrow lined pages, with the topic, a thought-provoking philosophical concept, requiring his own original ideas; is not easy at all!

So, why do I get such a thrill from setting the awful, lengthy tasks that I do? I guess it is the power it gives me. It’s just a few minutes effort for me to provide many hours of toil for him, what a beautiful contrast? I love knowing that it is such absolute misery for him, and it excites me when I see tears in his eyes from the sheer exasperation of the task, especially when he makes an error and has to start the page again!

And on top of it all, he is caged and totally frustrated! Really though, it doesn’t matter why I enjoy it! The simple fact is, I do! That’s all that matters! And so, he is assured of many, many more hours of mind-numbing suffering and deprivation to come! (Mind you, he does have the bright hope now of earning one release option if he completes his task on time!)

Warmest regards



Now onto the fabulous Sonia, who has exquisitely commented before.

Sonia Meloni

My dear friend and sister,  regarding your post on vanilla times and THE SWITCH, I thought of the vanilla times I have with my slaveboy, when we get out for shopping or window shopping, have dinner, etc.

Obviously he loves those brief moments, when we seem an ordinary couple, and he tends to relax, probably thinking that I’ve gone soft, or something…lol So it’s particularly nice and satisfying for me to bring him suddenly back to reality with little reminders…For example, at the restaurant, I extend my leg under the table and push my heels hard on his groin, making the the pins of his chastity cage pierce his cock…The grimace of pain on his face is priceless and is a delight to me if other clients are looking at him and notice his funny behaviour..!

Other times, when walking (he always must be two steps behind me, never on my side) I intentionally drop a bag on the ground and while he gallantly kneels to pick it up, I hiss, “While you’re there, kiss my shoe!” and I can she him getting red in the face for the humiliation, while he obeys, brought back to slave status!

Sometimes, when Patrizia, my love, is with us, I wink at her, she understands me immediately and says, out of the blue, something like: “You know, when we get home, Sonia is going to torture you, for my sake, to get me nice and excited for her…”

I can see the suddenly desperate look in his eyes, as I know how much he hurts from the burning humiliation of being cuckolded, being a passive, frustrated witness to our lovemaking…fully knowing he’ll NEVER get to make love to me like my Patrizia does, {or in any way] …And that thought, so delicious for a sadist, obviously, makes me wet right there, on the spot!

And yet, almost everyday, getting back from work, he brings me small presents, like a bouquet of flowers, a chocolate box, a small piece of jewelry, a box of my favorite slim cigars…As I’m soft-hearted, after all, I sometimes reward him by letting him sniff, at safe distance my pussy, saying, “You’ll never get to touch or feel it in your lifetime, bitch!”

It’s a life of happiness, my dear sister, full of intense, satisfying orgasms that keep me healthy and beautiful like a young girl!

Hugs and kisses,