Tag Archives: punishment

Mistress Francesca – cuckolding

Another insight into the life of the wonderful Mistress Francesca. There are previous insights HERE and HERE. I do not often  post about cuckolding involving a male ‘bull’ because it is not something I would ever do. When reading about or looking at images of cuckolding involving a male ‘bull’, in my mind, I like to replace the male’bull’ with a female lover. Cuckolding bitch-boy with a female love is something I TRULY ADORE! Especially if the lover has a nice cruel streak aimed at bitch-boy.

However, I think a full insight into the life of Mistress Francesca and sissy slave m is fascinating and arousing, hence this post.


Dear Scarlet,
Sam is one of my recurring lovers. He is a true tireless stallion and, although he is not very much in to BDSM, he enjoys dominating sissy slave m with me.

Being exposed and submissive to my lovers is the thing that sissy slave hates most of all and when I announced that Sam would come to see me, I saw on his face and in his eyes, the true, deep and indelible despair; a mixture of terror and discouragement and imploration and resignation; and this excited me enormously!

Thursday, Sam’s arrival day, I had the slave take the day off work and, from 6:00 in the morning, I used it to polish the house to perfection from the attic to the basement used as a dungeon, and to prepare dinner.

He brought breakfast to me in bed at 9:00 am and his appearance excited me incredibly.
You know, Scarlett, what a power rush it is to be awakened in bed with a splendid breakfast by a devoted sissy slave who has been working as a servant for hours, just to prepare the evening for the Mistress and the her lover. The look of sissy slave m already tired and pleading, and at the same time adoring, immediately put me in a good mood and I masturbated with my vibrator to a very strong orgasm.

I then wandered around the house before washing and getting dressed while the sissy continued her work. At around 12:00 the sissy had finished the preparation and I was ready to go out for lunch with my sister. I closed sissy slave m in the dark broom closet with hands tied behind his back, on his knees and with a short chain attached to the collar and a cock gag in his mouth. I looked him in the sad and pleading eyes and spat straight in his face
“You are just a useless miserable subspecies of sissy slave and your only role in the world is to suffer and be submissive!” Another spit in the face, followed by a five light kicks to his balls and I closed him inside, excited by his sad sighs of despair and his sobs of humiliation but, I’m sure, also of desperate and frustrated excitement.

I returned home around 03:00 PM, satisfied and excited, waiting for my bull but, first, I pulled my poor sissy from his closet. What an exciting and decadent vision Scarlet! The sissy had a desperate look, totally defeated and subjugated for the three hours closed and in chains, for the hours of work in the morning and for what still awaited him! Yet when I took the gag from him, his thanks and his oaths of love and obedience were sincere and very truthful!

Seeing him in that state made me completely wet and I had to masturbate again. I let the sissy lick my shoes, including the soles, and adore and worship me, before bending him on a stool and whipping him with the belt of my pants, for no reason but the fact that I wanted to. I gave my golden nectar to the sissy to drink, for which he thanked me with great emphasis. Then I brought it to his dressing for the evening.

On the way to his room, he looked at me imploringly, terrified of the kind of outfit I would impose on him. Terrified with reason! I decided for a particularly humiliating outfit, in a splendid pink PVC. I had him stripped naked except for the chastity cage and I started dressing him:
Pink corset, very tight closed, delightful pink PVC Panties, with a rear open welcome-hole and an opening at the front to let the chastity cage pass and make it evident. Special suspender straps start from the panties to which I hung her shiny pink PVC stockings
So her pink pvc maid uniform with cute, short, puff-ball sleeves, and with wide lace trim.
The dress is elasticated just under the bust, which gives it a typical prissy sissy look. With a full skirt, which has wide contrasting, lace trim at the hem of the skirt. the full skirt sits on top of a beautiful little underskirt that has layers of netting that pushes the skirt up and out, and every layer is trimmed in lace. On top, a white PVC apron. All so short as to leave the chastity cage partially uncovered. On the feet are a pair of shoes with 15 cm heels and 3 cm platform in pink color that on the top features a frilly lace design.

So the bondage: wrist cuffs in shiny PVC pink color with a wide lace trim at both ends of the wrist and cute satin bows, at the ankles, instead, a sexy pair of wide ankle cuffs shiny PVC that have an adjustable buckle strap that goes under the heel and ensures that shoes cannot be removed. A high pink PVC collar with wide lace trim at both ends.
On the head there is a blonde wig with a permanent 50s housewife style and a pair of long false eyelashes.

So I joined the anklets with a chain of about 30 cm and I did the same with the wristbands, which I then joined to the collar so that the hands could not go under the waist. Throughout the dressing, the sissy trembled with despair and tried to beg me not to impose that type of clothing on her, yet every time that, insulting him and slapping him, I ordered him to keep quiet, I saw his chastity cage jump because of a desperate erection attempt .

Wonderful creatures are the slaves! They are about to be subjected to what much more they hate in the world, and yet their body reacts with incredible excitement to an insult or a cruel gesture from the Mistress! I find it beautifully exciting!

Seeing herself in the mirror, the sissy sighed subdued, and she kept repeating obsessively “please Mistress no! Not so Mistress! Pity Mistress! “, and I, delighted, started another mind fuck, which I love. I told him how ridiculous and pathetic he was dressed that way to wait to serve his Mistress and her lover, how inferior was his condition compared to mine and how much that his life was destined only to become more and more harsh and humiliating 
To every affirmation he answered with a sigh and with a convinced “Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress”

My excitement was now beyond the guard level and I therefore decided to secure the sissy for the wait and go to get ready. I took the pathetic sissy back to the closet and made her kneel. I stuck a big fake cock with a sucker on the wall and I ordered him to hold it in his mouth and to remain so until my return. To his submissive “Yes Mistress! Thank you Mistress! “, said with a look full of desperate humiliation. I closed the door and went to get ready, not without having first masturbated for the third orgasm of the day.

I washed and perfumed myself and wore a pair of black mules with a 15 cm heel and 5 cm  platform, black lace underwear and, above, a black silk dress, with suspenders and just five or six centimeters below my cunt. My long loose black hair and sexy but not excessive makeup. Once I was ready, it was now 18 and the bell rang, Sam had arrived.

We hugged and kissed with passion and desire and, rubbing against him, I felt his erection. He held me in his arms and, with one hand, he held my butt getting more and more excited, just as I was very excited. He left me a beautiful bouquet of red roses (I love them) and immediately asked me where my sissy husband was. Amused, I took him to the closet and together we opened.

At the sight of the pathetic sissy on his knees, Sam started laughing out loud telling me how diabolical and terribly exciting I was! I, jokingly but not too much, warned him not to provoke me because a mistress like me could subdue even a man like him! So, laughing, we brought out the poor slave sissy, trembling and desperate.

Sam slapped him for not paying him homage immediately and the slave, with real tears in his eyes, prostrated himself to kiss the shoes of the man who was about to fuck his wife! A terribly humiliating and exciting thing!

Obviously, I was not satisfied with the humiliation of my slave and therefore I demanded that he devoutly lick Sam’s shoes and soles, in the meantime thanking him for such honor.
I swear to you Scarlet, when I hear him say, between the sobs of humiliation, “Thank you Master Sam for the honor of licking your shoes by this pathetic sissy”, I had to take Sam and drag him to the bedroom immediately!

From the stairs, I ordered sissy to prepare dinner for two and to put his bowl with yesterday’s leftovers on the floor near the dining table. Now beyond all humiliation, the sissy replied “Yes Mistress” and started in the kitchen while Sam and I went up to the bedroom!

I missed it Scarlet! I love dominating the sissy and I cum immensely from doing it but, from time to time, I really like a good fuck and in this period I really missed fucking! First, I made Sam kneel to give me a light kiss to my shoes and feet (after all I am always the Mistress) and then he went up to lick my pussy. Then, I made him put, with his surprise, the condom and we start fucking!

I had two orgasms practically simultaneously because while I was just diminishing the first one I had the vision of sissy slave m. in the kitchen alone humiliated and desperate and, immediately, I had another orgasm! So we went on until Sam reached a very strong orgasm which caused another one to me too! Satisfied for the moment, we rinsed and we got off, not before I had removed Sam’s condom and kept his seed.

We went down to the room and were greeted by the sissy with a curtsy. We had dinner served and, between courses, I announced to the sissy that Sam had a surprise for her and I emptied the condom on the pathetic leftovers from the day before they made up the sissy dinner. With a desperate sigh of humiliation sissy slave m. saw that I was emptying Sam’s condom on his leftovers and, resigned, humbly thanked my lover.

We then watched laughing at the sissy meal which, between sobs of disgust and humiliation, still had to eat to the last crumb and thank his superiors. So Sam and I continued our splendid fish dinner served to perfection by the sissy, which we totally ignored except for cold orders and, once we had finished dinner, we retired to the living room, where we ordered the sissy to join us. Here the real game started!

Sam and I started kissing and touching each other on the sofa, while sissy slave m had to stand at our feet to lick our shoes. We commented on the absolute power that we could exercise on my poor slave, destined to a whole life of total submission and frustration in the face of the total pleasure that we drew from dominating him!

When we had warmed up enough we decided it was time to get serious.
I tied sissy slave M. with legs upwards, so that his head and shoulders touched the ground and I positioned myself behind him with the cane in my hand. Sam instead sat on a stool at the height of the slave’s face and placed his shoes on his face. So I ordered the slave to lick the soles of Sam’s shoes with devotion while I started hitting his sissy butt with increasing ardor as growing was my excitement! I don’t know how many blows I gave him, certainly not less than thirty and, judging by the implorations of the sissy, they were very strong blows. Then, we untied the sissy and took it to the bedroom where we made him kneel and started fucking again.

After cumming for the first time in the missionary position, while the slave licked my feet, I put on doggy style and I had the sissy placed with his head under my pubis to watch helplessly Sam who fucked me and who, after another my sensational orgasm, cumms inside me. I had the sissy clean Sam’s cock and, therefore, I made him swallow my cream pie. So Sam and I rested a little while the sissy, defeated by fatigue, humiliation and frustration, sighed desperately on her knees at the foot of the bed.

By now we were exhausted! We then went to the bathroom where I used the funnel gag to use the sissy as a toilet and we took a shower, then went to sleep, not before I sent the sissy to fix the kitchen and not before I ordered him to wake Sam up at 7:00 AM the next morning. I saw sissy slave m come out of the room and look at me pleading and destroyed to complete his long day.

The next morning, therefore, I just saw the sissy waking up Sam, as ordered, at 07:00 AM then the slave got dressed to go to work. When I woke up I was in total ecstasy, completely satisfied both from the sexual point of view and, and more importantly, from the point of view of my total sadism and domination.

Sam sent me a message to thank me for the wonderful evening. As for sissy slave m, Upon returning from work, having given up his male costume, he literally threw himself at my feet swearing his eternal and unconditional and absolute love …

Truly a glorious day and night for me and in perfect symbiosis with my sissy husband!
Thanks for your patience Scarlet!
A big hug
Mistress Francesca


 A link to all my journals HERE, including:



New punishment position!

Well; over the dining table for deterrent and for deserved punishments has become a thing of the past I think.

After seeing a photo of a dominatrix in her dungeon relaxing on her chair between spells of caning her client, I thought I would like some of that! Both, me being able to sit for a rest, (and use my massager wand on myself), and also for the imagery and practicality of the punishment position my puppet would be bound in. It is so advantageous to live in a house with some large original ceiling beams in the sitting room!

I had bitch-boy create the image below, which took him quite some time – to my satisfaction, which meant while he worked on the image, he could mull over the position he will now so often find himself in.

I did indeed, the very first time I used this punishment position, have to sit on my sofa and use my massager wand half way through his punishment. When my massager wand was applied, it was so erotic to see him in his new punishment position, and hear him still whimpering from the last few strokes. My eyes quickly fluttered shut though, as the physical sensations overwhelmed me.

And then the decadence of resting, relaxed on the sofa, then rising and returning to using my dressage whip on my helpless toy.

I have been so kind to my puppet as to include a large bondage belt to support his weight at the chest and a chain from the collar to support the weight of his head. Of course, this does mean there is no limit to how long I can keep him in the position. Perhaps I will watch an hour long TV programme and rise from the sofa and pick up the cane during each advert break?

Because I love to have a female submissive over from time to time, and have bitch-boy in sensory deprivation bondage while I ‘entertain’ her, (often for 5 or 6 hours),  I have more than one set of wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs and more than one bondage belt. So, once I had padlocked the chains at appropriate lengths, the whole  arrangement could be removed and reapplied very quickly by leaving the chains as they were and simply unbuckling collar, cuffs and bondage belt. And I still had my usual cuffs and a body belt available for other bondage fun.

To retain this convenience, I will have to buy extra gear though, if I start having a new submissive female visiting to be ‘entertained’.



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






More from Mistress Francesca

On the well rehearsed basis that many of you do not read the comments on blog posts, and I understand why, I set out below some comments that I found fascinating and hot!

Mistress Francesca

Dear Scarlet,
I had yet another confirmation of something I have always been convinced of and on which, I believe, you can agree. That is, the fact that my cruelty and ruthlessness towards sissy slave m has a twice beneficial effect.

The first, and most important, of course, about my personal satisfaction and my general well-being; the second also on the slave, who becomes better with the growth of the sufferings and humiliations to which he is subjected. Last night I had further evident proof of it.

Sissy slave m. he had, in the first days of this week, a couple of shortcomings in his service (which of course I immediately punished). When asked about it, he apologized and told me that he was having a very complicated week at work, with several issues of particular importance to be resolved under his full responsibility. Obviously, I did not accept his apology and punished him severely on the spot.

Yesterday, then, I realized that he had forgotten to sweep some crumbs fallen from his leftover bowl under the table. So I decided that a proper punishment was needed to put the sissy back in place. As soon as he got home and took off his ridiculous man clothes, I dragged him by the ear and kneeling in our dungeon and the party started.

First, I whipped him on the back with a painful single-thing rubber whip to the point of tears of despair. Then I made him take off his collar and, tied his feet. I caned again and again the soles of the feet excited by his pleading for mercy. All without any kind of semblance of eroticism and without restlessness. Simply a cruel punishment.

Then it was his thighs to be hit again and again with the cane and, to finish, his butt had  a mix of paddle, whip and stick like few other times. He was screaming desperately and writhing in his bonds as a few times before, while an incredible excitement grew in me.
So I took my beloved strap on with the double dildo.

It has a vibrating dildo that fits into my vagina, stimulates both from inside and outside, and then has a big and realistic dildo that I use to fuck the slave. I demanded then first a blowjob, receiving the first orgasm, and then I fucked the slave for a long time enjoying again and again and feeling him crying desperately and in tears.

I then spent the next hour alternating on his nipples, torture with clamps and wax and erotic stimulations with tongue and fingers leading him to the paroxysm of excitement and pain and frustration. Too excited by his desperation and imploring, I had to cum again before using him as a toilet and locking it for the night in a small cage locked with a timer lock.

For the entire punishment, few times so hard and ruthless and devoid of any empathy, the slave pleaded and pleaded. I know he is not a masochist and I know how much he actually suffered. But when he kissed my boots in thanking me before entering the cage, he had in his eyes a light of resignation and love, as well as fear of me.

When he left the house this morning I was still asleep but a little while ago he sent me a WhatsApp message in which he thanked me for the punishment received yesterday and apologized for his bad conduct and of the past few days. Then he advised me that today, at work, he has easily solved some problems that in the past few days seemed impossible to him and that he will probably have a reward at work. I am sure that he succeeded also and above all for the cruel hardness with which I treated him. In his enormous suffering, he satisfied his intimate nature as a slave and freed energies to give his best on the job.

In conclusion, I believe that the more the slavery to which these wonderful kind of men is hard and cruel and humiliating and inhuman, the better they work in the few activities that are required of them in the ‘vanilla’ world. And this is for the benefit of the slaves and doubly for the benefit of the Mistresses. So in conclusion, be as cruel and sadistic as you can and as much as you want! It is good for everyone!
I greet you with affection
Mistress Francesca


Wow Mistress Scarlett!
When I discovered your blog I immediately understood that you are an extraordinary Mistress! An example for all of us and constant inspiration! I’m sure your email BAV email slave is aware of his incredible luck and will never cheat on your rules!

I think I will steal the ideas of ​​the toilet girlfriend and of the orgasm under the soles and apply them to the pathetic poor sissy slave m. for when he’s lucky with the card game …
J, Q and K of hearts the toilet girlfriend and A of hearts the sole of my shoe …
I’m sure sissy slave m. will be affected …
I’ll think about the details … i have a lot of time to think… the next chance for sissy slave m. it’s September 2 …
With all my admiration
Mistress Francesca.


Next July 9 will be the 15th anniversary of my wedding with sissy slave m. and one of my favorite lovers should be in town that week …
Two great opportunities for fun for me and cruel humiliation for my sissy slave …
I thought I’d share these experiences with you and your readers if you like.
p.p.s. if you prefer that I don’t describe cuckolding with my lover just tell me!

Mistress Francesca.


As you may know, sissy slave m. wears a chastity cage 24/7/365 and his only release possibilities are through a card game. In summary, in a deck of 52 more wild cards, if a card of hearts is drawn between 2 and 10 the slave can have a spoiled orgasm, if the J, Q, K or A of hearts is drawn, the sissy can have a true orgasm, for all other cards no orgasm. The game details, according to the card drawn, after how long the slave can try again and what punishment he must receive.

Of course, I always have the right to refuse sissy to play, but usually I like to let him try.
Applying the rules of the game, the shortest period that the sissy can hope to see between an orgasm and the next try is a week if she draws the A of hearts (it has happened only three times since I began with these rules), otherwise it varies from 32 to 40 days.
The longest period that the sissy spent without a ‘real’ orgasm was 3 years and 3 months (August 2009 – November 2012) during this period, however, he had some spoiled orgasms. The longest period without even spoiled orgasms was 13 months.

Now his last real orgasm dates back to August 2018 (he had extracted a k of hearts on June 2 this year but he ‘voluntarily’ preferred to give up orgasm) and his last ruined orgasm dates back to November 2019. The next possibility to play his card game is scheduled for September 2.

On average, I think it that sissy slave m receives a ruined orgasm every 3/5 months and a real orgasm every 10/14 months. This chastity regime makes the sissy very frustrated and suffering. Consider that he constantly lives as my sissy slave and, being a true submissive, it creates constant and enormous excitement, frustrated by my chastity regime. At the same time, feeling frustrated and suffering makes her more obedient and focused on service.

In my experience, the peak of despair frustration is reached after 3 or 4 months while in the following period despair increases more slowly. This is why, as the abstinence period continues, I love to subject the sissy to long sessions of teasing and denial, torturing her poor sensitive nipples. As for the rest, sissy slave m. never becomes ‘whining’ although he sometimes begs desperately. I love these pleadings and I love, after having listened to them for some time, to deny him any mercy.
Mistress Francesca


Dear Scarlett,
it is obviously a pleasure and an honor to answer your questions.

No, normally I don’t give the sissy slave’s penis direct stimulation. His nipples have always been incredibly sensitive and even just touching them produces a devastating excitement effect in my poor sissy. He has repeatedly confessed to me that the stimulation of the nipples is for him a stronger sensation than anything he has experienced and is incredibly frustrating because the very strong erection that derives from it is confined by the chastity cage and because, however strong and growing the excitement, he can not reach an orgasm. In addition, this type of excitement develops in the slave the deeper fantasies which are, of course, those of ever more extreme submission.

Teasing him through the nipples is therefore the maximum. (to which is added the humiliation of knowing that his penis is NEVER stimulated by a human being …).
Because the sissy ‘voluntarily’ renounced her orgasm on June 2, he told you himself in a comment you posted about his strict regime.


In practice, while I was ready to let him masturbate while licking my shoes, my mother (who was present with my sister and two dear friends) suggested that it would be very selfish of it to cum immediately after the lock down, given the restrictions that I had to endure over my sexuality because I could not meet any lovers.

We all agreed on this and the sissy (and helped by the fact that I started licking his nipples, the sissy ended up begging to exchange its card for the worst card in the deck: 2 of spades, to show its subjugation to us.

As for cuckolding, there is no precise cadence. I go with other men whenever I feel like it and when I meet a man I think who’s worth it. I have some lovers that I see more regularly and others that are absolutely occasional maybe met on the same day. Let’s say that, pre COVID, I had a sexual encounter with lovers more or less every 10/15 days.
Obviously not all lovers are aware of the slave and / or participate in his domination, however I always try to introduce the topic and I would say that in the end almost all lovers come at least to see my sissy maid when they come to pick me up at home.
As I anticipated, one of my favourite lovers will be in town on Thursday … updates soon .


Sissy slave’s M account mentioned above.
‘………………….One after another they laughed at me, they had fun slapping me to tears, spitting in my face and mouth, before granting me, one after the other, the coveted permission to play.
The humiliation and anticipation, the pain of the recent punishment and fatigue of the long day of service had thrown me into a condition of total prostration and physical and mental suffering and, at the same time, of desperate excitement.
The Mistress, therefore, shuffled the cards, positioned the three chosen cards on a small table and invited me to choose.
With my heart racing, I chose a card and waited for the Mistress to turn it over.
K of hearts! My head exploded with relief and joy!
It meant being able to masturbate licking Mistress’s shoes! Heaven for every slave! I must do with the but plug in ad after I will receive, as per the rules, the due punishment! But nevertheless, it was an orgasm at the feet of my goddess! A real orgasm! Tears of joy have started to cross my face again!
The Mistress then moved away and returned, after a few minutes, wearing a pair of black patent leather slippers with 10 cm platform and 20 cm heels. The dream of every slave. My dream. In her hand she held the key to my chastity cage.
When she was about to put the key in the lock, however, my mother-in-law intervened. I can’t say if everything was planned or if it was a cruel inspiration of the moment.
My mother-in-law said hard and annoyed that it was incredibly selfish of me to accept that card! That it was inconceivable that an unworthy slave sissy like me agreed to receive an orgasm while his Mistress, for the previous three months, because of the lockdown, had not been able to devote herself to her pleasures and hobbies and, above all, had not been able to see her lovers!
It was an incredible proof of lack of training and insubordination on my part the fact of placing my pathetic pleasure before that of the Mistress!
Not only the Mistress had to give up an important part of her sacrosanct sexual pleasures, but now she also had to witness her pathetic sissy slave who masturbated with the most selfish of pigs!
The other ladies immediately agreed with my mother-in-law and, on the Mistress’s face, I immediately saw a sadistic smile light up.
I, devastated, had listened to my mother-in-law’s words, grasping their inedible cruelty and injustice (after all, the Mistress had always cums, even in these months, over and over again every day and at her complete pleasure while my last cum was rising months and years) and at the same time the words o my mother-in-law seams full of fairness! If the prolongation of my suffering and frustration helped the Mistress to better endure the limitations of the lockdown just finished and to resume her life with greater serenity, how could I be so selfish to accept an orgasm!
Yet my frustration was too strong.
The Mistress, amused, replied to her mother that it was true, that she was right, but that the rules were the rules … therefore, turned to me, she asked me what I thought of it.
Desperate, split in two, I began to stammer apologies about my despair and pleading for the card to be respected.
But she then decided to use her secret weapon. Started teasing me and licking my nipples.
Perhaps also due to the fact that my cock is always in the cage and is practically never stimulated, my nipples have become, over the years, ultra-sensitive. Real mini sexual organs whose stimulation produces a devastating, almost painful, and incredibly frustrating excitement given the presence of the chastity cage. Furthermore, it is a kind of excitement that further nourishes my submissive nature and makes me desire with every drop of my existence to be increasingly cruelly subdued by my divine tyranny.
Among the laughter of the other mistresses, therefore, the Mistress led me to a state of pain excitement in which my whole body trembled uncontrollably and wept with despair and mumbled phrases without complete sense.
When she thought I had reached the right cooking point, therefore, the Mistress returned to ask me what I thought of it.
And my slave soul, before my body and my mind could intervene, was licking the Mistress’ shoes and begging her with all the soul not to consider the card and exchange it with the 2 of spades (which means three months before the next attempt and a cruel punishment made of blows and bondage from immobilization).
With tears in my eyes, desperate but in love, I heard the Mistress agree among the roaring laughter of the others and, after the Mistress left me magnanimously licking her divine shoes for a long time, I immediately underwent the following punishment in total sub space and I spent the rest of the day and the whole night painfully in bondage until the Mistress released me this morning to send me to the office.’



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







Archive of real life letters

I have often written about how 15 to 20 years ago there were two sources of real life femdom material that shaped my dominance and lifestyle. The letters from lifestyle wives and girlfriends in the wonderful Madame magazines and also in the early years of the Petticoated.com website.

I have included on this website some material from the Madame magazines . (See the drop-down menu from the above Dommes’ letters  above menu tab.) And some photos in another post.

Well I have now come across a website giving access to the letters from lifestyle wives and girlfriends from the early years of the Petticoated.com website. It is a slightly confusing home page. If interested in FORCED male maids, sissy maids, diapering, parody of a baby role, parody of a little girl role, or parody of schoolgirl role, then I  suggest you click on an edition in the left hand column and then click on each individual letter in turn.

Some of the letters are gems of strict, pitiless wives and girlfriends using all their ingenuity and imagination to maximise the profound humiliation ans submission of wayward males.

I provide examples below, but there are far better than some of these that I came across during a cursory glance through. I confess though that the letter headed, Perfectly Proper Sissy Behaviour, was a hugely influential foundation for one of the themes of my treatment of my little puppet.

(I have mentioned specifically, the early years of the Petticoated.com website, because a few years ago it shifted from mainly letters from dominant women forcing males against their will into humiliating outfits, to  letters from and about transvestites and other males who thoroughly enjoy dressing up in women’s, little girl and or sissy attire. I have nothing against them at all but I am not interested in them or their lifestyles.)



Dear Editor,

As a firm believer in dress discipline for males, I do not simply dress my husband in sissy clothes.  I also insist that he behave in a manner befitting his very juvenile status in our household.   When properly petticoated (or in one of his equally charming sissy pants outfits), he is required to speak in a soft, childish tone, and to use a vocabulary appropriate for a five-year-old.  He must walk like a
proper sissy, mincing on tiptoes and keeping elbows pinned to his sides and wrists turned out.  He must sit and stand daintily, with knees together and skirt kept modestly lowered.  He must curtsey before entering or leaving an occupied room. He must ask permission to do most things, such as leaving the dinner table or “going potty.”  He must keep his pretty clothes clean and mended, his appearance modest and neat.  And he now answers to his sissy name, ‘Peterkins Winceyette’.
These and many other rules of ‘prissy perfect’ behavior enforce his petticoat discipline as effectively as his pretty clothes.  He has become used to wearing girlish outfits, but he still blushes with shame at having to act like a proper sissy, particularly in front of others.  Of course, I make sure he has plenty of opportunity to do just that.
The other day Peterkins was washing up in the kitchen after lunch.  He wore one of his typical sissy outfits.  A pink ruffled pinafore went over a crisply starched, back-buttoning white blouse with a broad Peter Pan collar.  A precious little pink bow marked the front center of the collar.  High-waisted, flyless velveteen burgundy shorts buttoned onto the blouse and showed a hint of the heavily frilled pink bloomers he wore underneath.  A binkie hung on a prettily embroidered leash that buttoned on to his pinafore above the left breast.  A lace-edged pink bonnet framed his lightly made-up face and tied in a big bow under the chin.  Frilly white anklets and black Mary Jane shoes completed the pretty picture.
As he finished his cleanup chores, Peterkins was no doubt looking forward to his afternoon nap.  That is the time when I am at my most gently maternal with him.  I undress him down to his frilly undies, put him into his soft flannel nightie with the drawstring hem to enclose his feet, and tuck him into his adult-sized crib. But on this afternoon there was to be no nap and cuddle time, for just as the last of the dishes were being put away, the doorbell rang.
Peterkins has been taught to suck his thumb whenever he feels anxious, and the ringing doorbell made him very anxious indeed.  His thumb leaped into his mouth, and he began sucking vigorously. (He is permitted to use his binkie only when directed to do so.)  He looked at me fearfully, hoping against hope that I would not make him answer the door.  One sharp glance from me dashed any chance of that. He knows from bitter experience that in his sissy clothes he simply cannot resist my wishes.  If I want to display him to a stranger at the door, then I will do so. He knows, too, that any attempt at resistance will only make matters worse for him.  Seeing my determined gaze, he realized there was no escape from his predicament. His eyes lowered, and his face registered sad resignation.
Terrified at having to answer the door, yet even more terrified not to, he was actually whimpering as he minced to the front hall.  He reached the door just as the doorbell rang a second time.  He opened it timidly, and in strode my sister Jean (whom I was expecting but he was not).  Jean has often seen Peterkins in his sissy clothes but never fails to find new ways to embarrass him.  He is dreadfully afraid of her – dreadfully for him, quite delightfully for Jean and me.
Removing his thumb from his mouth, Peterkins managed a timorous curtsey for Jean.
‘How very nice to see you again, Auntie Jean’. he said softly.
She smiled broadly, relishing the sight of this fully grown male dressed so babyishly and so obviously intimidated by her.   She approached the shrinking sissy, untied his bonnet, and retied it tightly under his chin.  His head moved under her firm touch.   She fussed with the little bow on his blouse.  She straightened the frilled, cross-over straps of his pinafore and fluffed out his collar.  Satisfied with her efforts, she stepped back to view him again.
‘Oh Peterkins Winceyette’, she teased, ‘you look so very masculine today, with your cute little shorts.  They are very sweet indeed, but I’m afraid they’re not really very adult, are they, dear?’
Moving behind him, she encircled his waist with her arms and toyed with the big buttons holding the shorts and blouse together.  ‘Only very little boys wear button-ons like these, Peterkins — little boys and big prissy sissies.  Which one are you, my dear?  Hmmm?’
Peterkins looked as if he might swoon, and never did manage to answer her questions.

No matter.  She got his full attention by clapping her hands sharply and announcing, ‘Teapot!’  Peterkins knew only too well what that meant.  I have trained him to perform several children’s songs, as I believe they are another excellent way to instil in him the proper attitude and demeanor.  At the top of the list is ‘I’m a Little Teapot’, complete with the appropriate hand gestures. Jean likes it so much that she insists on him performing it whenever she visits. He doesn’t like doing it, but of course, that makes his efforts only more entertaining.  He knows he must perform with a pretty smile and a proper little girl’s enthusiasm, and this particularly embarrasses him.  He is several years older than Jean, and there was a time when she considered him attractive.  Now she can look at him only with amusement tinged with disdain, particularly when he becomes our charmingly reluctant ‘teapot’.  It must be a cutting reminder to him of how far he has fallen in her eyes.  I love watching him perform, his shyly lowered eyes unable to meet Jean’s commanding gaze.
Jean was not quite satisfied with his ‘Teapot’ rendition this time, so she stood him face to the wall in a corner and instructed him to keep practicing.  She and I sat down to tea in the living room as his gentle childish patter serenaded us from the hall.  She occasionally called out from the couch to correct him, a reminder that she was still keeping an eye on him.  He made a fetching sight, chirping away in the corner and adding the obligatory curtsey after each rendition.  His plump bottom, perfectly moulded by the sweet little velvet shorts, bobbed enticingly up and down with each curtsey.
When Jean was almost satisfied that he had achieved the proper little girly tone and gestures, the doorbell rang again.  Of course Peterkins was now reduced to jelly again.  Not knowing what to do, he put his thumb back in his mouth, and  Jean and I couldn’t help laughing aloud at the silliness of it.  His can be so sweet when he’s helpless.
Jean left him in the corner and answered the door herself.  This time it was Grace, the 18-year-old young woman who used to babysit for Jean’s little girl.  Grace had not met Peterkins, but Jean and I had told her about him.  As she expressed continuing curiosity about him, we invited her around to see him when Jean would next be visiting – on this afternoon.
Grace took one look at Peterkins in the corner, paused in disbelief, and started to laugh.  She tried to restrain herself, covering her mouth with her hand, but that only made her laugh harder.  She could only point at him and continue laughing helplessly.
Poor Peterkins didn’t know what to do.  He remained in the corner, furiously sucking his thumb and casting furtive sideways glances at Grace.  He couldn’t bear to look at her yet couldn’t seem not to.  He might have stood there all day if Jean hadn’t taken him by the hand and introduced him.
‘Grace’, said Jean, ‘I’d like you to meet Peterkins Winceyette’.
The absurd name prompted another titter from Grace, as did a shy curtsey from Peterkins.  ‘How do you do, Peterkins Winceyette’, Grace smiled.  ‘What a perfectly lovely name!’
It was all dreadfully and delightfully unfair.  The poor sissy was trying so hard to be good but was finding only more embarrassment for his trouble.   As Grace looked at him delightedly, Peterkins hung his head in defeat and began to cry.
Now it was my turn to comfort him.  Following our usual routine for times like these, I put him next to me on the couch and cradled his head against my chest.  I popped the pacifier in his mouth and made him nurse quietly as I soothed him with sympathy and baby talk.
‘Oo, poor ickle Peterkins.  Mommy knows ‘ow tewwibly fwightening it is when big stwange ladies see just how ickle and pwecious oo are. . . .’
Peterkins does like to be babied but becomes ashamed when I do it in front of others and he is exposed as the complete baby he is.  Closing his eyes, he managed to escape his shame momentarily, and melted into my arms as I cuddled him.  Slowly his sobs subsided. Then he opened his eyes to discover Grace bending forward and looking directly at him only inches away from his face.
‘Boo!’ she said playfully and pressed her index finger against the tip of his nose. Grace could not have been more gentle, but her overture made the big baby dissolve into tears again. Jean and I roared with laughter.
‘Well, he may not be the ideal little girly-boy yet’, observed Jean, ‘but he does seem to be the perfect cry baby’.  Turning to Peterkins, she nudged him and teased,
‘Ickle Peterkins has lost all his cuwwidge, hasn’t he?  I wonder where it could be?’
This prompted a new game, in which Jean led the poor sissy around the room and made him look high and low for his lost ‘cuwwidge’.  It didn’t seem to be on the mantelpiece, or under the couch, or in the magazine rack.  Peterkins was required to inspect each area and to tell ‘Auntie Jean’ that no, his ‘cuwwidge’ wasn’t there and he didn’t know where it might be.  Jean pretended to be stumped, but a mischievous sparkle in her eye told a different story.  Announcing that Peterkins must have thrown his ‘cuwwidge’ away, she brought a trash basket from the den, placed it on the living room floor, and told Peterkins he had better look in there.   Peterkins glanced nervously into the basket and said no, his ‘cuwwidge’ wasn’t there either.  Jean wasn’t satisfied.  She made him get down on hands and knees to look.  When he still couldn’t see anything, she pushed his bonneted head deep down into the wide mouth of the basket.  This prompted a fresh outbreak of tears from Peterkins, particularly when Jean wouldn’t let him up.  What a prettily submissive sight he made!  Fully debased and obedient, he kept his head in the basket where it belonged.  When Jean finally allowed him to raise his head, she had a camera ready to record his woeful, tear-stained face as it emerged from the basket.  When we saw that defeated, helpless expression, Grace and I couldn’t help laughing.  I congratulated Jean on how thoroughly she had conquered my sissy.
A gentler soul, Grace took pity on Peterkins.  She knelt beside him, cradled his head in her arms, and kissed his tears away.  She obviously didn’t need any help from me in comforting him, so I left her in charge.  As we sat down to tea, she decided to make Peterkins her little ‘sissy puppy’.   She placed him on his knees beside her at the table and made him gaze at her with his ‘paws’ held at his chest and his mouth vigorously working his  binkie.  Every so often, she would reach down, pull the binkie from his mouth, and allow him to nibble a crumb or two from her fingers.  Responding to her gentleness, Peterkins made a charming, docile pet and even formed a shy liking for his new mistress.  All agreed that we found a new babysitter for Peterkins that afternoon.
The visit ended as Jean insisted on one more round of ‘Teapot’.  Peterkins managed to get through it this time without blubbering, smiling timidly in response to our grins.  He finally seemed to realize that a sissy can find satisfaction in pleasing the women in charge of him.   Before leaving, Jean placed a well-placed pinch on his inner thigh, making him squeal one more time.  For her part, Grace planted a very wet kiss on the lips of the startled sissy, then stuffed the binkie back into his mouth before he knew what had happened.  With a giggle and a wave, she, too, was gone.
When put to bed that night, Peterkins did have to be spanked.  That was because his little male symbol became entirely too excited when Peterkins was required to tell me how he felt about his babysitter-to-be.  Of course, this kind of punishment is all part of his petticoat training as well.  Perhaps I can devote a future letter to a description of my methods for keeping his little wee-wee under control.
Suffice to say, for the moment, that I do insist on perfectly proper sissy behavior.
Yours very truly,

Ms. Q.


Letter 2SISSY DISCIPLINE FOR CONCEITED MALES(from ‘Rubber Life’ 1970s)Dear Ms.Behr & LindaLatex,

I could not believe my eyes! At last, here in Canada, a publication dealing with what is, without doubt, the most effective method possible to control insignificant males who think they are really God’s gift to society. Diapers, didies, napkins, or, using the most effeminately babyish possible term, nappies.

These, combined usually with rubber panties, are accessories which, when worn by a man of conceited demeanour, cannot help but render him a helpless, quiet, shy, cowering, blubbering reduced shadow of his former appraisal of himself.

My reason for writing is to set out a few things which I consider to be basic to baby discipline, and perhaps a criticism or two as I ramble on…

1) Any boy or man under petticoat or diaper discipline must feel very little boyish, sissyish, and helplessly so.

2) He should always be shaven from neck to toe. Especially cleanly about his pubes.
3) He should not been able to masquerade as a woman or girl. His hair should be short (boyish as of old). If in dresses he should have no wig. In truth, he is better dealt with in sissy clothes than in dresses.

4) He should never have access to his own privates.  Thus, all clothing covering his trunk must button down the back. Rather than buttons, unless very small, hooks and eyes or small domes are the most difficult for him to handle, and still very easy for his mummy, nurse, or governess.

5) Baby doll pajamas are worn by girls and women nowadays. They are not for big boys, or men, in diapers and rubber panties. Such males should wear baby style nightdresses without openings for their hands, or else one-piece sleepers buttoning down the back with a drop seat and, of course, feet and hands covered. The baby nightdress should be longer than the man or boy, and should have a tape in the hem so that it may be closed at the bottom so that he cannot walk, and creeping or crawling would be very difficult. The big baby’s nightie should be so fastened, and sleepers should have a blind front, thus denying the male access to that part of his anatomy he must never, ever, touch for any reason.

6) Many of his outer garments should be locked about his neck and/or waist using a light chain and padlock.

7) Little boy rompers, sailor suits, side-fastening satin shorts with wide leg openings buttoning to one of two rows of large buttons sewn to a blouse, are excellent sissy wear. Fastened to the upper row of buttons, these shorts leave room for only his rubber panties, and cradle and pull up between his bottom cheeks. Without rubber panties or a rubber concealing device, his privates would be in danger of showing at the leg openings. Fastened to the lower row of buttons, his little satin shorts would allow room for good bulky diapers, but those, along with his shiny rubber panties, would protrude well below the leg openings of his little shorts. If the punished one has a Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit, even the jacket should be permanently buttoned or tacked in front, and would in fact fasten by a row of hooks and eyes down his back.

8) He must not be permitted use of the toilet. He might be permitted use of a potty – once a day, but not more often. Lots of bottle fed milk and water, fed with a rubber-nippled nursing bottle, will assure wet nappies. On special public shame days, he may be deprived of his rubber panties so that his wet state will be clearly displayed.

9) His baby harness should be fitted so that his wrists may be fastened there too, so that his hands cannot get into mischief. A night harness is a good idea too.

These have been just a few thoughts which might be useful. All men and boys should be kept the babies they are.

Yours truly,




My 16th journal –  LINK

My impact punishment array

I do not know why I have never posted a photograph of my little collection of my favourite impact punishment implements I use when bitch-boy is secured face down over the dining table. So here it is.

I have described this collection in a number of my journals but, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. In the event of vanilla visitors, the whole array can be lifted by the two chains and locked in a cupboard upstairs as it is, the cupboard has two hooks inside the door. So it takes only seconds to return the array to the dining room wall once the vanilla visitors have departed.

Hook by hook, from the left: 1. The cock gag, cat collar for wrists and another for ankles, and yellow strap for binding his thighs together. 2. Red rubber paddle. (The underside has a fine diamond pattern of  little raised triangular ridges. It is VERY NASTY!) 3. My favourite cane; I have had for so long. 4. My agitation whip. 5. My dressage whip. 6. My large leather paddle. 7. My plastic cane. 8. My quirt.

I have to admit that in most deterrent punishment sessions I use every implement, except the large paddle and plastic cane. Those I do use, I use without mercy. Then there are  punishments for actual infractions. For those, normally it is the dressage whip and cane.

In my journals, I have used words to describe the business side of the red rubber paddle. But,  again, a picture is worth at thousand words.

This paddle is VERY NASTY!

I have a routine where the more rigid implements are used first and directed at the central meaty area. (My favourite cane and the plastic cane if I use that. Then, using the rubber paddle,  I like to warm and redden the areas above, below and to either side of the  central meaty area. These areas are rather more sensitive and my puppet makes quite a fuss while I apply the paddle. I am not surprised. I did once test the paddle on the underside of my forearm. (The best place for testing.) It is as though it is red hot, such is the intense, painful heat it leaves behind! The third stage involves wraparound. (which I explain fully in my BDSM Manual. What follows, and seems revlevant, is an excerpt from my next journal, No.17, which is almost completed.

………………….. I began with light strokes while I talked.

                ‘For the avoidance of doubt little sissy; I know with my very flexible implements there can be wraparound. This dressage whip, the agitation whip and the quirt. And I know wraparound happens on the sides of your butt and hips and I know the further around the sides of your butt and hips I go, the more sensitive the flesh is.’ I landed a couple of hard strokes and the whip made its lovely whistling noise as it travelled through the air. I returned to talking.

                ‘So when there is wraparound, it will not be an accident, just to be clear.’ I landed a couple of hard strokes again. Again  the whip made its lovely whistling noise as it travelled through the air. I then again returned to talking.

                ‘I am an unashamed sadist. I get pleasure from hurting you. But also, it is very important to me that you are well marked from this punishment. I love to see those marks during the rest of the day. And wraparound makes the best marks, as you know. I also know that four inches of wraparound hurts twice as much as two inches of wraparound. But four inches of wraparound gives me twice the length of a clearly visible mark to enjoy. So what you need to understand is that if I am applying four inches of wraparound, or even six, I AM MEANING TO! And even if perhaps, with the occasional wayward stroke, I apply more wraparound than I mean to, when practicing my backhand, I will be pleased about that; NOT GUILTY! I won’t feel guilty because there was more wraparound than intended. I will be happy over my accidentally placed stroke. I just wanted to avoid any ambiguity maggot.’ On finishing my little speech I immediately began using the dressage whip full force and with about three inches of wraparound. He immediately began pleading and pleading. I was very aroused as I continued with the dressage whip.

Next came the agitation whip. I chose five inches of wraparound and he began to properly sob between bouts of pleading. I was so delighted to have avoided ambiguity! (A very painful episode, clearly due to a Domme’s negligence or ignorance, does not cause awe in the mind of the submissive, almost the opposite. And it is not that arousing for the Domme. Whereas a very painful episode,  as a result of the Domme’s expert knowledge and intended purpose………..


My 16th journal –  LINK




Anne’s Mom’s first involvement

I have  posted about mothers-in-law a few times and there has always been huge interest. Miss Anne has graciously provided a wonderful account of how her mother became involved in the domination of Miss Anne’s submissive. I provide that below. And if there is interest, Miss Anne will provide an account of the current day-to-day involvement of her mother in the continuing use and subjugation of her submissive.



My Mom for her age is one of the most open-minded and strong-willed people I know. She was also very successful at her job, a born leader, nowadays she has retired. But she was very unlucky in her personal life. She got married too young and my father was and still is addicted to drink and gambling, a bad father and even worse husband. My Mom got divorced decades years ago and she was obligated to work hard to bring me up. She is very clever and cunning like a fox, honest, stubborn and has a sharp tongue at times lol. Circumstances of her life have made her a little strict and controlling towards others, even to me when it was necessary and she likes things are done in her ways.

Back in 2012 after I had lived with my current slave for almost 2,5 years my work contract came to an end. I had no choice but return back to my own city and live at my Mom’s home until I get a new job and be able to move to my own house. The problem was what would be my slave, he theoretically could follow me and get a new job because of his profession, but it was impossible we live together because of the financial troubles at this time. I thought a lot and I decided to open my heart to my Mom and inform her for the turning in my life those past years. I had built a strong bond, relationship and mutual love with my Mom, there were a lot of times I was thinking of her as my best friend, not only my Mom. We had an honest and open relationship so I took the courage and confessed my new life. Well it was a real shock for her in many ways.

To cut a very long story, short, after endless chat she set aside her objections and agreed to meet and interview my slave. I recall this day in my mind, it was a hot summer day, I took my slave from train station, I was wearing a navy blue t-shirt, a mini denim skirt, which I knew he was in true love with, LOL, and light brown flat sandals.

On our way to Mom’s , one more time I advised him to be sincere, keep a low profile, be respectful with courtesy towards my Mom. Ok, obviously the hot day went a bit cold when us 3 all met in the same room. I introduced Mom to slave and he fortunately had the mind and good manners to bow his waist down and kiss her hand. We all chatted for a while about weather, summer etc then as I had agreed with Mom, excused myself to do some job on my laptop and left the room. After a couple of hours my slave all red faced left the house. Mom informed me the chat went well and tomorrow they will have another chat but she seemed satisfied with him. I kept high hopes and called the slave at his hotel room to listen to his point of view and he confessed in detail to me what they talked about.

Next day slave came in and went directly to the living room where my Mom was waiting him. After one hour, while I was surfing the net, I heard Mom’s voice call me. I went into the living room. At first I was in shock from the picture I saw.

My Mom was sitting on the sofa, her right leg over her left, wide smile on her face and my slave on his knees, was sucking her toes passionately with eyes closed.

Mom said “Anne this boy earned a place in his heaven and he will stay with us, here at my home, on a trial period and then we will go from there”. I burst into laughter while my slave was thanking her profoundly and that was the beginning of a new chapter in our relationship.

When later I asked Mom what was the main reason she finally accept him she answered. “The main reason was the fact I’m your mother Anne. He betrayed you, lied to you, made you unhappy, your tears were shed for his actions. He made you feel undesired as a woman. You might forgive him and forget, I might forgive him one day but I will never forget. No mother  will ever forget the person that hurt the feelings of her daughter.” That moment I felt pity for the slave, his fate was sealed.


Influence of Mom on his chastity device and releases


When Mom was first told by me about the chastity cage on the slave’s penis,  she looked like thousands of volts had hit her. Eyes and mouth wide open, speechless for a few moments, a red face. She could not believe there was such a device. Much more that a man was wearing this device. She told me the only reference about chastity belt in her mind was from her childhood and lesson of history in school,  about the knights who were putting chastity belts on their wives when they were going to fight in the Crusades. She was asking and asking questions which I honestly answered, finally she burst in a wild laughter to tears and said:

“What a pathetic loser wimp”  (in fact it means something even worse in our native language, it is an idiom and I cannot translate it exactly in English).

Then she asked for more information and I translated a few pages from the net for her about the chastity devices, the effect; and results of using it, prostate milking etc. Then I informed her about his frequency of orgasms and milking, the schedules and rituals I had established, my rules. Then she surprised me with a glittering look in her eyes and a wide smile.

“Anne as we all live under the same roof and as it is still my home, I think I must too have a say on his release and schedule, don’t you think?”

“ I suppose yes but I never thought you would participate in it Mom”

“I will not of course participate in your bedroom honey nor will we ever work as a team upon him in a sexual way; but I need to have a yes or no opinion when it comes to his pleas for Cumming. After all I host him here out of the goodness of my heart”.

At that time slave was on a schedule of one orgasm every month and also one prostate milking 15 days after his orgasm. He had to follow a ritual and beg for my permission to let him either have the orgasm or the milking.

After mom’s request, the next time he begged me for an orgasm and I accepted his plea, I informed him that Mom must also permit and grant the reward of his orgasm, so he should ask her. Next day I was having coffee and chat with Mom in the living room, I told her about the ritual for his release, and she happily agreed to hear his request. So I rang the service bell and the slave appeared running into living room in a few seconds, he bowed down and knelt.

I told him “boy I think you have to ask the permission of Mom for something, don’t you?” He answered “yes Mistress, thank You”.

Mom lit a cigarette and looked directly at his eyes as the eyes contact restriction rule did not apply on this ritual for the slave. A red faced slave began to ask his request for an orgasm and, as he was talking, he become more and more humiliated and also more humble and docile and ended up really begging my Mom for a release. I could not keep from giggling at him, but it was also exciting.

Mom asked some humiliating questions about his feelings, why he needs the orgasm, how do his penis and balls feel, if they hurt, how long he has been without an orgasm, why he thinks he deserves an orgasm, if he is really still a virgin male at his age, the reasons behind his enforced celibacy. Well it was a long interrogation and I could see the was in a predicament but he tried to answer honestly all the questions in hope of a release. Finally Mom asked him how does he get the orgasm, if granted, and he, red faced, answered that he jerks himself off, which resulted in loud, mocking laughter from Mom. Then she told him:

“Well boy, getting an orgasm in not a necessity in your life. You don’t see animals jerking off, do you? On the other hand you males jerk off even if you are married and have a regular sex life. It seems you are way too preoccupied with pleasuring yourself. This time could be better spent. Besides to able to jerk off, the chastity cage must be taken off for a few minutes. But as Anne told me, you say that the chastity cage has helped you to concentrate on her needs, stop making you a slave to your penis but a slave to her. What is more fulfilling for you? Being a slave to a Lady or to a piece of meat? As you already mentioned a male’s orgasm is over in seconds and afterwards he is usually useless for some time. How many males don’t just fall asleep? Also their wish to serve is greater before allowing an orgasm than after.  Often they become lazy and rude after. Would you wish to anger your Owner just for that few seconds of orgasm?  Absolutely not! Make me proud of you boy, bring a smile to my face. Wouldn’t you prefer to cum less often and so be a better slave?”

Slave looked pale, he seemed out of breath, dry mouth, he started to express his objections in a respectful and humble manner with quivering voice. Then Mom graciously said

“Well don’t be so frightened boy, I don’t mean you will never get an orgasm again. But I also cannot be generous with the frequency. Your current frequency takes too much energy and priceless time from your slaving service. You need some time to jerk off, then much more time to recover from the release as your sub feelings drop and you are not focused on your duties and making Anne’s life easier and more comfortable as it is the true purpose of your being in this world. This loss of priceless time is not tolerable any more. Instead of jerking off, you could focus and spend this time to improve other important and useful areas in your life. I have noticed you need extra training on housework chores, cooking, ironing and I’m going to be involved daily to this training and help you reach your really talents, skills and standards. You need to get exercises daily as well and it depends time of course and taking more time to serve our personal needs. Well boy my decision is to minimize for now your orgasm to one every couple of months and out of my good heart you will also get one milking per couple of months. At the end of the year we will see how it works out and we will make any necessary changes to better manage you.”

The slave seemed desperate and heart-broken when my Mom finished. He was wise enough to said “Yes Lady R. thank You.” Then he looked at me and said “Thank You Mistress.” Then he kissed our feet. It was the correct action by him or else he could pay dearly for any other kind of attitude. Then Mom added in a disdianful tone,

“Well slave I am sure you are thinking I am too cruel to you. In fact I am too lenient and generous. I hope you bear in mind the situation and the conditions of your life. I am an old woman about 20 years your senior, and you kneel humbly and humiliate yourself at my feet begging desperately to be allowed to jerk off, LOL. Oh my God, at this exact time, all over the world, millions of men make love with their wives or g/f, having sex with a woman. But you, a loser male virgin, beg me to let you just “jerk off”. I am sure the words pride and dignity do not exist in your vocabulary slave. I am soooo good to you loser and so magnanimous to let you even one orgasm. Now run into bathroom and hand wash all our clothes, it will take you a good amount of 4 or 5 hours and in that time you can think contemplate thoroughly about your new situation at my home”.

The slave with tears in his eyes thanked her, kissed our feet and was heading to the bathroom when Mom added the “last straw”.

“Ah boy, I almost forgot to mention. The chastity device will be replaced as soon as possible. Your current device is not appropriate. It is way too long, wide and comfortable to let you get half an erection and as we all know erections distract the attention and your focus on your duties; so you will expect a new cute device when I and Anne choose the best strict small, proper cage for you”.

Well that was the beginning that led him to very rare orgasms and milking nowadays in my service. I will add more about my Mom and her participation in slave’s daily training and punishments in another message. This one went too long and I face some internet connection troubles due to lock down far away of my home.


LINK to a lengthy account involving a mother-in-law

LINK to my journals


Ears and Hands and What else?

This post is prompted by a comment from tinylittleboy. The gist being he wanted to hear more about how I discipline and subjugate bitch-boy focused on other body parts than his butt and birth defect. tinylittleboy mentions leading by an ear and punishing the palms of the hands, both of which I do and he is so right to mention how affecting these can be. I will detail those further below. I will also mention intrusive gagging and nipple clamping which seem relevant.  I would be keen to have comments on ideas for other potential body parts.

Leading by the Ear

I did post on this on 19 June 2018. You can click on the link to read that post so I will not repeat the content here.

I will say, now the issue has been raised, I have probably not been leading bitch-boy by the ear enough.

It is an especially delightful thing to do in front of a female gust or two, or even better to surreptitiously suggest they lead him by the ear when we require he be somewhere else. bitch-boy’s humiliation when this is done is VERY OBVIOUS and of course the ears are sensitive so it can be painful too. Particularly if having reached the required destination, the ear is twisted to and fro a little before it is released. Twsited to and fro while he is being talked at, given instructions or given warnings to be obedient, or else!

Punishing the hands

Something I like to link to tedium torments involving him using his hands. (Perhaps there are other activities that can be linked to this punishment?) In days gone by whenever I had him dressed as schoolgirl and about to undergo a session of writing lines, I would always take the time, to help him by warming his hands with my leather strap before he began. (This is featured in my earlier journals).  It does generate a considerable power rush having him so obedient as to hold his hand out, free of any bondage, and receive the strap to his palm and fingers. Especially if, once each hand has been dealt with, one returns to each hand a second time.

Our faces being so close together, I can see him observing me closely and appearing almost incredulous at my pitilessness and sadistic pleasure as I continue and ignore his quiet pleadings  (It is more proximate and ‘intimate’ than punishing his butt or birth defect.)  And I know when the day’s tribulations are over for him, that incredulousness turns to awe and worship. Wonderful symbiosis!

So I do use the strap on his hands before he starts colouring-in with his dolly, and having written this post I will associate this with his lock down chore of toilet roll lines.

Intrusive gagging

A very frequent torment, and so mentioned in all my recent journals, because I looooove it so much, is the torment of him having the five inch end of his dildo gag pushed down his throat and then held in place by his padlocked on head harness. (The double ended dildo is removed from its usual strap.) Providing he concentrates he does not retch. But it is a constant invading and humiliating  distress for him. I adore how it is constant for him but once secured requires zero effort from me. A source of power-rush arousal indeed! Especially when he has been enduring his gag for sometime and looks toward me with pleading eyes, clearly indicating he has had enough of the gag. And my expression of utter disinterest in his implied pleas is the response he gets.

Nipple clamping

I mention this mainly because I have never found really good adjustable nipple clamps. Sometimes when he is secured on the BDSM bed, I put clamps or clothes pegs on his nipples but after an initial few minutes of ‘discomfort’, the ‘discomfort’ seems to largely fade somewhat UNTIL the moments immediately after the clamps are removed. I would love to have some adjustable nipple clamps that could be attached and then I look into his eyes as I slowly tighten them, every five minutes or so. I have posted before about the paucity of torments that allow one, with great control, to increase the discomfort while looking into the subs eyes.



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




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.

Why dress him in shaming outfits?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


My 16th journal –  LINK