Tag Archives: sadism

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:



The amazing Mistress Francesca

I posted on 4 June some comments from sissy slave M on the regime he endures under the dominance of his Mistress. Well we now have the privilege of hearing from that Mistress. The amazing Mistress Francesca.

Below are three very recent comments from Mistress Francesca. You may have read the first two if you read comments on this blog; but you will not have read the third.

I then add a comment from sissy slave M on degrees of cuckolding humiliation. It was left as a comment on 19 May. Having read of the style of dominance of Mistress Francesca, I reread sissy slave m’s words about levels of humiliation of cuckolding in a new light!

From Mistress Francesca.

Dear Scarlett
As you know, sissy slave led me to your blog and one of the many main reasons why I find it splendid is that it treats with clarity and competence an aspect of Femdom that does not appear habitually, that is, that of a relationship truly based on its essence to the total domination of the Mistress over her slave. Unfortunately, what you see in most sites is about erotic fantasies where domination is a way of having sex like any other. The man meets the woman, they have a BDSM session, after the session they cums and then they return to normal; maybe with the woman who goes to deal with some household affairs and the man to watch the game on television.

Obviously I have nothing against those who do this and I have nothing even against the look of the dominatrixes in the mainstream sites (on the contrary I confess I have always loved a very aggressive look and I don’t mind wearing very fetish clothing at all, especially shoes and corsets)

The reason why I like your blog is that it treats those who live Femdom as a true lifestyle and as true form of total female freedom. In my daily experience, in every ‘vanilla’ relationship, partners must necessarily give something to each other and, normally, for a thousand reasons related to social conventions, the one who gives the most is the woman.
I have never been able to tolerate this. It will be a form of selfishness, but above all I have always placed my absolute and total freedom to choose for myself in life and sexually without having to give an account to anyone.

Furthermore, I have always loved to dominate, command, be served and revered and adored. It is in my nature. That’s why when I discovered Femdom, I was fascinated by it!
Then I met Marco (the real name of sissy slave m) and his natural submission magnified my hedonism, my innate sadism and my desire for absolute power over him.
And today, therefore, ours is a symbiotic relationship in which I take everything, and he undergoes everything. I am fully satisfied, and I become crueller every day, while he, judging by how he swears his love in the tears of his sufferings and humiliations, still seems to be certainly in his place.

Coming to the content of your post on enduring domination sessions, I fully agree on the great pleasure that comes from subjecting the slave to long, interminable torments and repeating them again and again, more and more cruel, with the passage of time.   In our relationship, as my pathetic sissy husband wrote, the ‘vanilla time’ is practically absent and, therefore, the time he spends directly under my yoke is very very long.

I divide it into three phases (obviously it is a very general division that cannot describe the entirety of the relationship)

Obviously, I love practicing long BDSM sessions in which I torture, humiliate and subdue (even sexually – I love the strap–on against his chastity) in an intense way and with the utmost cruelty. I enjoy immensely his acute and extreme suffering. My sessions are frequent and long but, obviously, they last only a few (sometimes many) hours.
BDSM sessions are fun and exciting but satisfy only the most outward and “bloody” part of MY sadistic and cruel nature as dominatrix.

All the time, then, and I mean – all the time, sissy slave m has to serve me as a queen and a goddess. Everything in our home and in our life is organized according to my cravings and my desires and my preferences and sissy slave m. is responsible for everything (housework, bureaucratic aspects of life etc ..). For my enjoyment, then, sissy slave m. must ALWAYS serve me in one of his uniforms as a servant or maid, always completely feminized and always with some bondage element.
This satisfies my hedonism, my narcissism and my desire for absolute supremacy.

When sissy slave m. it is not directly in service and I am not using it in a BDSM session. I ALWAYS submit him to what you call tedium – humiliation torment. I leave him for hours and hours locked in a cage, or in a closet or keep him for hours in the Sensory Deprivation Bondage.

Or I make him do some housework with particularly restrictive bondage or in humiliating ways (cleaning the bathroom floor and sanitary ware with his tongue, polishing the soles of all my shoes with his tongue).

Or I force him to repeat humiliating rituals again and again in my absence (walking back and forth in a room with increasingly high heels performing predetermined gestures of humiliation – practicing receiving in the mouth or in the ass fake cocks and dildos).

Or I use it as an inanimate object at home (tied and immobilized to serve as a footrest or chair – tied in the bathroom with a hood and a funnel in the mouth to serve as a toilet – food tray – lamp holders and the like).

I like to indulge in these activities literally for hours and hours, totally ignoring sissy slave m or going to him from time to time to torture him directly or humiliate him or, given his desperate abstinence, tease him to tears (just playing with his nipples).
These activities, combined with the many occasions when sissy slave m. is dominated by third parties, perhaps they satisfy the deepest nature of my sadism and cruelty. It is the pleasant context in which my life as an absolute dominatrix and mistress takes place, like sweet background music.
Just the beauty and gratification that can be drawn from this third type of activity makes different the relationships your blog talks about, from all the others and makes our life splendid and that of our slaves a hell (just to say that I feel wet). A hell from which they would not want to escape even if they could.
Best wishes
Mistress Francesca


A fantastic comment Francesca! I loooove it. Thank you for the kindness of suggesting my blog has a unique element.

Humiliation – tedium linked with partial ignoring is I agree exquisite and it is amazing what a turn on it is given almost nothing is happening. I think it is the sheer cruelty of it that provides the visceral power rush that simply seems to be at a continuous peak level.

When you announce such an activity is about to be imposed, does sissy slave m beg and plead?

Do you use a baby monitor when you force him to repeat humiliating rituals again and again in your absence (walking back and forth in a room with increasingly high heels performing predetermined gestures of humiliation – practising receiving in the mouth or in the ass fake cocks and dildos)?


Thanks Scarlett!
Your blog is truly exalting me!
Yes, sissy slave m. pleads and begs when I announce one of these activities … and I love hearing him beg and please and than slapping him or spitting in his face and imposing what I want on him. He must also thank me! (it’s amazing to hear him as he desperately thanks me for the treatment I’m going to subject him to).
Before, I used a baby monitor. Now I use an old mobile phone connected to an application on my smartphone. Sissy slave m found the app. I’ll let you know what it’s called.

Now I am writing to you from a SPA where I am with my mother and sister. sissy slave m. is at home in chains, doing weekend cleaning. I think when I get home he will undergo one of my treatments … I will keep you updated …
a warm greeting
Mistress Francesca


Dear Scarlett
Me, mom and my sister went home around 5:00 PM happy and relaxed. To welcome us sissy slave m. submissive and subjugated as always, dressed in his sissy maid short dress and in chains, as I had left him this morning, only much more tired.
He was waiting for us standing by the door, as I trained him to do, and when we rang the bell he opened and greeted us with reverence. He did not expect mom and Maria (my sister) and seeing them he emitted a deep sad sigh.
You understand it perfectly Scarlett, it is precisely these sighs of impotence before the prospect of something terrible that is about to happen that give me a real power rush and excitement. My eyes shone with sadism.
He humbly licked the soles of our shoes and then I begged mom to check the quality of the work of sissy slave m.
Knowing that control would be done by the mother the poor slave sighed again looking at me with a pleading look, which I ignored laughing.
While Maria and I sat in the living room, mum and sissy slave m. went around the house to check the quality of the work done.
Obviously mom found several mistakes (actually trifles, but the best is expected from a sissy servant).
We went to punishment (20 cane strokes from each of the three of us) received by sissy slave m. pleadings and in tears.
At the end of the punishment he thanked us by licking our shoes again.
Mum and Maria then went away amused and I prepared my sissy for the evening.
Today the television broadcast a marathon of the season 5 of outlander, a series that I love. So I announced the sissy that I no longer needed him and so until 02:00 AM he had to devote himself to what I call “the path of humiliation”.
I saw the panic on his face. He pleaded on his knees, desperate, crying. I let him plead for some times and then, hard, I told him not to get me bored and to follow me to the attic of my house, very hot in summer and very little ventilated.
I put him in a postural collar on which I hung a pair of handcuffs with a padlock, in which I imprisoned his wrists. Handcuffs also to the ankles, in order to limit his steps to a ridiculous wobble. In addition a large but plug.
I have prepared his path: on three sides of the room are three small altars. On the first is a pair of my shoes, on the second a bowl full of my golden rain, on the third a large and realistic dildo.
He trembled like a leaf, desperate and in tears.
He implored me to shorten the duration of his punishment. I slapped him and ordered him to begin his journey.
“It is now 19:00. Start your path pathetic subspecies of slave! Know that the application is active and I can see and control you! At 02:00 AM you can stop and free yourself with the keys of the handcuffs that are down in your bedroom. I want to be woken up at 10:00 tomorrow morning. The usual breakfast. Start worm!”
With tears in his eyes he replied “Yes Mistress, Thank you Mistress!” and walked.
Staggering he reached the first altar, he took the shoes and then and recited his mantra:
“This useless sissy slave is unworthy of licking the mistress’s soles! Thank you Mistress for letting your sissy lick your noble shoes!”
So he licked each sole five times and moved on.
In front of the second altar he took the bowl with my golden shower and recited the second sentence:
“This useless sissy slave is just worthy of being the human toilet of the Mistress! Thank you Mistress for letting your sissy be your living toilet ”
Then he drank a drop of golden rain.
In front of the third altar he took the big dildo and recited the third sentence:
“This useless sissy slave is just worthy of being turned into an unworthy cocksucker! Thank you Mistress for letting your sissy be an unworthy cocksucker! ”
Than he has to deep throat the dildo 5 times
I can’t describe the feeling of power and supremacy that I felt and leaving him to its long seven hours of ordeal.
As soon as I got off, I confess, I took my favorite vibrator and I masturbated to two splendid orgasms. I then had dinner with the light cold dinner that Sissy Slave M had left for me in the fridge and I dedicated myself to my Outlander evening.
Every now and then I got an eye on my cell phone, from which I checked the misery of my pathetic slave … a great saturday Scarlet!
Now I am writing to you comfortably lying in my bed, happy as a million euros, while sissy slave m is gong on with his ordeal.
I guess I’ll masturbate again before sleeping…
Goodnight my new friend!


From sissy slave M

Honorable Mistress
As I wrote in other comments I am a 39 year old Italian sissy slave and I live a 24/7/365 relationship of total submission to my Mistress and wife.
Total chastity, born again virgin, and almost total sissyfication are some of the keys to my condition and, in this context, I am also subject to very intense forms of cuckolding and forced bisexuality.
I know you don’t practice this kind of cuckolding and if you think this post is not suitable for your blog I ask you for forgiveness and I will understand it perfectly.
For me cuckolding with male lovers has more than four stages and it’s for me the most intensely humiliating and emotionally hard practice. Especially when I have to be directly submissive in front of other men.
It may seem strange for an almost totally sissyfied slave, but direct sexual contact with other men has always been a taboo that I have never completely overcome. Serving men and having sexual contacts with them is the most devastating and humiliating thing I’m forced to endure in my slavery regime.

Stage 1: a different location
Mistress leaves me at home alone, with a list of chores to do or in some kind of severe bondage. I often have to help the Mistress get ready. Often before going out she apply a nice deterrent punishment. On her return I may have to clean her cream pie.

Stage 2: at home – the bull does not meet the slave
I am tied and gagged in the closet while the Mistress makes love with her bull.

Stage 3: a different location – the bull meets the slave
Similar to stege 1 but the bull comes home to take the Mistress. I have to open the door dressed as a maid, respectfully great the bull and communicate him that the Mistress will soon be ready. I must also humbly thank the Bull for sexually satisfying the Mistress.

Stage 4: at home – the bull meets the Slave
I welcome the bull as in stage 3, then serve him and Mistress something to drink or the dinner. I remain available in the living room while they ‘warm up’ with foreplay. When they are ready the Mistress binds me as in stage 2. Before the bull goes away I have to thank him for the pleasure he gives to my Mistress.

Stage 5: at home – the bull meets and dominates the slave
Like stage 4, however, during the foreplay part of the fun of the Mistress consists in a BDSM session, the Bull also actively participates in dominating me.

Stage 6: gagged ad bound in the same room
Like stages 3 and 4 but later I am tied up and gagged in the room to helplessly watch the Mistress’ sex and to be dominated and submissive again when they are finished.

Stage 7: in the same room helping serving and being humiliated
In the same room, unbound, totally passive. I have to pass to the lovers towels, condoms or sex toys. I have to excite them with humiliations such as licking their feet or putting myself in positions that excite them (for example while fucking doggy style I have to lie down with my face in a position to see the cock of the bull that penetrates the Mistress).

Stage 8: fluffing and forced bi.
If the Mistress finds a bull that likes it I am used to ‘prepare’ the bull by stroking and licking his cock, I have to put on and take off his condom when they use it and I have to clean it after they are done. It may happen that the Mistress has fully enjoyed her sex and has no more will of continuing. Then it is up to me to ‘finish’ the bull, usually with the mouth.

Two special cases:

It may happen that the Mistress does not want sex or same kind of sex (for exemple Mistress don’t like anal and don’t’swallows) In those cases the Bull can use the slave sissy. Usually I am made to dress like a very cheap whore and used for bulls for their pleasure in any way they want. If they do not declare themselves satisfied, I am also severely punished.

It may happen that the Mistress has fun with a BDSM session with some other submissive and let him have an orgasm. Or can happen that the slave of some friend if Mistress has the right to cum. Often in these cases it is up to the sissy slave to make them cum. For them, being straight, it is still humiliating that it is another male to make them cum. For me, the humiliation of forced bi is increased by the fact that those who cum are not even a bulls but another slaves. I remain chaste, of course!
It is, by far, the most degrading and humiliating thing to which I am subjected.
Sissy slave m.


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



Innocent Images (2)

It seems fun to post some more following my last such post on 28 March 2020. Not everyone got the final image on my last post. But many did. (A  hot wife getting ready to go out on her date, from the POV of her sexually desperate and denied, cuckolded husband-slave; kept in 24/7/365 chastity.)

Images like these I hope invoke BDSM femdom thoughts in us, while a vanilla person would see nothing to do with serious eroticism. Obviously bitch-boy’s sexual desperation is made worse as he produces these images to my specification, as does his curation of my BDSMLR site, also to my specification. Poor puppet!

The first six of these images are a slave’s POV on a very favourite pastime of mine. I dedicated a post to Partial Ignoring in 2017. You may wish to read this 2017 post if you have not before.

















































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









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




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.




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

Lady Jessica – saying NEVER!

Lady Jessica provides another delicious, delightful comment with a superb sting in the tail!

My dear Mistress Scarlet

What a lovely recent series of posts! Your confinement seems to have made you still more creatively wicked. How lucky bb must consider himself to have such undivided attention!

I feel much the same. Skivvy’s continuous domestic presence is a foretaste of what awaits him when finally he can give up the pretence at being an autonomous adult human that he has to adopt to go to the office – in normal times. That time is not far off, economy permitting, as his age and the money I have accumulated through his hard work make retirement quite possible.

I quite agree, my dear, in the value of ‘zero hope’, just as much as in other circumstances I delight in raising hopes and dashing them again. One of the words that it is a true pleasure for a dominant to pronounce is ‘never’. Like you, I have made clear that skivvy will never again have actual sexual intercourse with any female, for example. There are some more minor ‘nevers’ in his life too – he does not own and will never again wear an item of male underwear, for example.

When finally he does retire, this list of nevers will multiply as fast as my whims dictate, since he will have no opportunities for mischievous behaviour. He greatly enjoys his cup of coffee in the morning, for example. I occasionally deny him it, but I know that I cannot forbid it completely or on working days he could probably find some way of getting some, despite my tight financial controls.

So, one morning, when he is retired, I will announce that I’ve decided he has stopped drinking coffee. And that will be that. He will carefully number all the capsules, which he will need for making my coffee, so I will know if he takes one and I will impose fearsome sanctions for attempting to consume any dregs or spillage. And that will be that: one of life’s little pleasures, gone. Why? Because I say so.

And he knows this will happen. Don’t you, skivvy? Because you read this blog. One day, you’ll have a rather underwhelming little gathering at your office, making embarrassed small talk over tepid wine with your soon to be ex-workers, and then to everyone’s relief the two of us will come home and you, my little toy, will enter the final stage of your degradation. Do you feel oppressed now? Oh, just wait, you delicious little morsel, until I have you securely locked behind these doors for ever. Dreading it, skivvy? Perhaps with a little thrill of anticipation? It really doesn’t matter what you think does it? You’re not going to rebel, so it’s quite inevitable.

Yes, there will be many nevers. Perhaps one day I’ll decide he’ll never have hair again. Or warm showers. And of course, one day there’ll be the best ‘never’ of all, won’t there skivvy? Perhaps I won’t tell you that one… just leave you waiting and wondering, for ever. Wondering if perhaps today might be the day when you discover that it is not quite final, not yet. A reprieve. With just a little hope, ever-diminishing towards infinitesimal levels, but never quite, absolute zero.

Which would you find more unpleasant, skivvy? Knowing an orgasm would be your last? Or not knowing? Not that it matters what you think: my decision.

One final thought, for skivvy, especially for him. When you’re thinking about what will happen should I decide to keep you locked forever without telling you, when you’re imagining how it might feel day after day to wonder whether you will ever again experience release, thinking back longingly to your last distant orgasm, trying to supress the feelings of rage and frustration… when you think about how you’d feel if I imposed that indefinite chastity on you, think of this:

What if I already have?

Mistress Scarlet, your blog continues to shine as a beacon of sanity and joy, in a mad and msierable world. I hope you and bb are both well, you to continue your evangelising mission and he to suffer the consequential miseries for decades to come.

Yours in sincere sisterhood

Lady Jessica



Dashing Hopes versus Zero Hope

About my previous two posts on total denial of orgasms, one comment I received, (I paraphrase),  suggested that surely hope is a requirement of properly affecting cruelty. I think this view must have come about because of the recent, frequent mentions of the pleasurable tactic of raising a slave’s hopes for the sole purpose of dashing them. (A momentous and fantastic idea from the amazing Lady Jessica).

Hope Raised and DASHED

Well I thought I should post to confirm that hope is NOT a requirement of affecting cruelty. While I DO love raising and dashing bitch-boy’s hopes and now do so frequently, (thank you so much Lady Jessica), I know there are a number of wishes for which bitch-boy has zero hope but the wish remains a very affecting cruelty to both him and me. These can be long term or short term.



Examples of zero hope include:

  • That he will never ever get to penetrate a woman again. And that is despite how


    often I flaunt my body to him and verbally remind him how much he would adore to  penetrate me but I am 100% CLEAR that he never ever will. He has no hope I will ever let him and it seriously affects him each time I flaunt my body and remind him. (Just about daily!)

  • When I secure him for say five hours of sensory deprivation bondage. As I secure him, he desperately wishes I will reduce the duration but he knows I absolutely will not. He has no hope I will.


  • If a new, horrible-for-him, activity comes to my attention and I inform bitch-boy I will be trying it out and if I like it, it will become part of my regime. I make it clear 100% that I will be trying it out! He dreads it, but has no hope that I will not try it out.



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