Tag Archives: servitude

The most provocative images (Part 3)

Apologies to post on this for a third time but I would just now add that;

100% of the comments received on the previous 2 posts on this issue, LINK- POST 1,    LINK-POST 2, confirm that submissive men and dominant women ALL agree that the type of images I suggest in the previous posts – should form the overwhelming bedrock of the femdom images on the net; and not those that actually do.

It just goes to show how far adrift from reality the producers of the current style of images really are and what damage that is probably causing to the decisions of women, who are unsure whether to try the femdom lifestyle or not.

 

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

 

 

The most provocative images (Part 2)

A sad thing dawned on me as a result of my recent blog post on provocative femdom images.

First, thank you to all the submissive males who commented and confirmed the type of images I suggest, are very affecting for them.

Second, the point of this post: It is almost certainly true and so quite sad, that the overwhelming majority of femdom images on the net probably put off novice women , who might otherwise consider dominating their male.

These potential domestic Dommes not being attracted to, or being able to, imagine themselves dolled up in PVC, a corset, and thigh boots or imagine themselves having access to a well equipped dungeon, while looking like a Miss World. But that is what the overwhelming majority of femdom images on the net would have the uninitiated believe femdom is all about.

Whereas, were they to mostly see femdom images depicting women of any age and attractiveness, relaxing on a sofa or comfortable armchair or sun lounger,dressed in marginally sexy clothes or just everyday clothes. And these women watching TV , or doing a craft – like knitting, or reading a book, or chatting on the phone, or enjoying some social media time, while their submissive endures a torment, perhaps they would be attracted to, and see themselves in such a role.

Or of course, seeing the males providing the relaxed females with many huge orgasms with zero demands on the females to reciprocate.

I would invite a submissive male to find for me an existing blog or site, or begin themselves, a free blog, or perhaps a BDSMLR site, of curated images of the type I describe.

This idea does worry me though. (I am so hard to satisfy!) The innate male toxic competitive drive tends to mean most male managed image sites are full of barely relevant images to their theme. The males seeming much more intent on obtaining the MOST images, (like its a competition), rather than focussing only on truly relevant images.

 

My recently published Journal. Click on this link for details.

 

Enduring domination sessions

I have noticed one quite distinct difference between domination sessions that by necessity must be relatively brief and sessions that can regularly go on all day and night, or longer. I know some couples have children at home and or other vanilla things that prevent sessions being for longer than say a couple of hours. And also many sub males visit Dominatrices, again most often just for an hour or two.

I know such sessions can be intense and rewarding but for those of us, (and there are quite a few who make contributions to this blog), who have the opportunity of regular sessions lasting several days and nights,  it seems universal that a torment technique becomes a key part of the regime that can only be enabled by having hours and hours of time. The Humiliation/Tedium torments.

The sub must write lines, perhaps while dressed as a schoolgirl, for literally hours and hours. The sub is dressed as a little girl and must colour-in with dolly, or play a Disney Princess board game with dollies, for literally hours and hours. The sub (in chastity) might be locked in a tiny, sound proofed and pitch black cupboard for literally hours and hours. The sub might be bound in sensory deprivation bondage for literally hours and hours. The sub may have to clean a floor with a toothbrush and then re-clean and then re-clean again and again for literally hours and hours.

And very importantly, the chosen activity will not be a one-off. The sub will know, not just today will he endure those hours! He will do tomorrow and the next day, or two days next week, and the week after, and will be doing so for years to come! The sense of miserable helpnessness cannot be moderated by thinking, ‘just get through this and I’ll never suffer this again’. Oh no!

And the Domme will get the most divine, complex feeling of serenity, power, pitilessness and arousal. Arousal that will usually be satiated by masturbation many times in those hours. And as well as the orgasms, there is truly relaxing; – watching TV, or making phone calls, or reading or doing a craft activity, or sunbathing, or shopping, or gym, or sleeping.

It is often mooted that getting older, and also retiring, can be a bad thing. I guess my point is, if you are a Domme currently fettered by circumstances like say, children at home, or you and your sub are both working long hours, then think ahead to when it will just be you and him, day after day after day. One HUGE compensation for thinking about growing a bit older, for children leaving the nest, for retiring; is you have the DIVINE FEELING to look forward to that I have described above!

 

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

Addition to the previous post on Lady Jessica’s punishments

My dear Mistress Scarlet

What an honour and a pleasure to be featured so prominently on your adorable blog!

I have one additional tweak to the system outlined above, which I will mention because I propose to modify it still further according to a suggestion you made a few posts ago.

Occasionally I repeat the guessing exercise at the end of the punishment. Sometimes this merely takes the form of a question as to whether skivvy deserves extra and additional strokes, perhaps to reflect excessive whining and fuss during the punishment itself (perhaps a little unfair, Mistress Scarlet, as I do actually gain considerable pleasure from tears and frantic pleading – but fairness is not a feature of skivvy’s disciplinary regime). Again, I do not cheat: I will write my own opinion on a piece of paper and place it face down in front of him, just below his head where the floorboards are so magnificently stained with a rich, deep glow from the frequent application of copious tears, over many years of our blissfully happy marriage.

This judgement may well be ‘zero’. Indeed, it usually is. However, he is free to request more if he believes he deserves it. After he has stammered out his own suggestion, I sometimes like to discuss it with him: exploring the reasoning behind his request for – for example – six extra strokes, before allowing him to see my own opinion on the matter. Of course, the usual asymmetry applies.

More usually, however, the discussion concerns his post-thrashing corner time. When a serious beating is needed – I am not talking here about a quick bend-over for a few strokes of some convenient implement before resuming chores – there are always three stages: written punishment, the beating itself and then some post-beating thinking time, typically in the corner with his hands on his head. I lightly tie his thumbs with a ribbon and place a glass Christmas ornament on top of his folded hands, so I can be sure he will not stir. The ornaments are cheap and smash easily – I make sure I keep plenty in, as they are hard to find out of season and nothing else works so well.

We usually play the same guessing game – there is so much drudgery in his life, after all, I expect he enjoys the opportunity to play a little game like this. I’ll admit I do not know that, as I have never asked him, but I expect he would agree with me that these games bring a little joy into what is his often rather dismal existence. I fact, I am sure he would.

I write a duration on a piece of paper and fix it to the wall in front of his face, blank side out. He then tells me his own estimate and I leave him to it. I then return, at the time he specified (unless unavoidably delayed for one reason or another, or unless I forget) and turn the card over. If it is less than he had requested, the corner time is over. If more… then he must deploy his skills in multiplying by three again. He has a degree in mathematics, so he is good at that. If the duration runs late into the night, then I would typically use a webcam and review on fast-forward in the morning, rather than relying on the glass ornament. Of course, any chores still remaining from the day must also be completed before bedtime, without any stinting.

However, Mistress Scarlet, thanks to your lovely suggestion: the next time he has a really serious beating, I will at the end produce a wooden chair, and place on it my doormat (I mean my real doormat, of course, not skivvy) which is made of thick, bristly and slightly irregular coir. His thinking time will be spent sitting on that: ribboned hands on head and two glass ornaments balanced in place, one on his folded hands and the other on his lap. My estimate will be fixed to the wall in front of him, as usual. Of course, he will have no idea what the ‘norm’ might be for a coir matt session. Fifteen minutes? One hour? Two hours? Maybe it should be less than the usual standing corner time, because I understand it can be quite uncomfortable (I wouldn’t know, of course: I have never tried it and never will). Or perhaps it should be longer – after all, he is sitting down.

Anyway: I will leave the decision to him, in the usual way.

Oh, I am so looking forward to this! I do hope it is not long until his next serious beating. Of course, I can simply impose one capriciously but I do like him to feel that a punishment is his own fault and that he could have avoided it if only he had acted differently. Regret can bring such sweet tears, even before any pain is applied. Hmm. What can he fail at? Perhaps I will wear a ruffled blouse today… a little 1980s perhaps, but it is a complete nightmare to iron properly. He rarely gets it right.

And then of course there must be consequences. Mustn’t there?

Yours in sincere sisterhood

Lady Jessica

Kind to be VERY cruel ; The Amazing Lady Jessica

I received the comment below and I found it so affecting I had to make it into a blog post.

The theme is I think identical to that in my post of January 2018 but Lady Jessica and I  arrive at the same outcome via somewhat different psychological techniques. I do note that in order to succeed Lady Jessica’s technique requires a continuing regime of very harsh endurances for her skivvy , but there is nothing wrong with that!

 

Dear Mistress Scarlet

I am so pleased you managed to retrieve my previous message and I am flattered to honoured to see it featured on your wonderful blog. I do hope that whatever male (or “male”) creature was responsible for its deletion was soundly thrashed. Even if BB was nowhere near your computer at the time, his sin of omission in failing to prevent you from deleting it was surely a grave one. It is always a male’s fault, I find, don’t you?

Your latest post made me think, as so many of them do. I would like to put in a few words in favour of a somewhat neglected trait I believe a domme should display: the willingness to be merciful. Kindness, my dear Mistress Scarlet, is under-rated in the world of female domination.

I myself occasionally take pity on my little skivvy and I show him the true quality of my mercy, with an act of kindness. On my way up to bed, I might, for example, pop into the study where he is hunched over his desk, writing lines in a task that he knows will keep him up until 3am at the earliest (with chores to do from 5.30 the next day, as every other). Asking him how many he has done, and observing his wretched face as he tells me he has not yet reached 200 of the 500 assigned, I might take pity and smilingly declare that he can reach the 200 and make an early night of it – or even just tell him, he can put his pencil down then and there. The relief, joy and gratitude on his face is a tonic, it truly is.

Or I might perhaps pause during a thrashing and ask the sobbing wreck strapped so tightly over the whipping bench, whether he is truly sorry. On being assured that he is, I might perhaps declare that I will let him off the remaining strokes, as he seems so sincerely contrite, and put the cane aside before loosening his straps and allowing the thankful skivvy to stagger off to resume his duties, stammering out his gratitude and his appreciation of his kind, merciful Mistress.

Why do I act in this soft-hearted fashion, Mistress Scarlet? Well, let me quote John Cleese’s character in the film Clockwise: “It’s not the despair, Laura. I can take the despair. It’s the hope I can’t stand.”

You see, Mistress Scarlet, there will be other occasions on which skivvy is sitting at his desk, facing a numbingly tedious written imposition stretching impossibly late into the night. Many, many other occasions. His hand aching, his buttocks numb from sitting on the hard stool, his mind a whirl with the humiliation of being unable to escape this mind-numbingly tedious and thoroughly pointless task. And he will hear me walk past the door of the study… perhaps I will come in. Or perhaps he will simply be listening intently, trying to decide whether I have already gone up to bed and left him to his task, or whether he still has hope. Because, thanks to my occasional acts of kindness, he does always have hope. And that hope, my dear, transforms what might be merely a tedious and unpleasant but inevitable night of discomfort into something quite unbearable. Into torment. Because he can never resign himself completely to the inevitable while hope remains.

Of course, that hope rests on the most slender thread imaginable. His heart may leap when I enter the room, only to fall into despair when I pick up some item or other and leave him to his fate. He knows in his heart of hearts that this is the most likely outcome. Perhaps, after asking how far he has got, I will casually double the lines he must write, or pick up the sheaf of scribbled papers and tear them up, instructing him to begin again in a colour more to my liking. These are both much more likely than an act of mercy on my part – and he knows it. But while he still has hope, there is always a chance for him to pray for silently, and the crushing of that hope when I dash it, Mistress Scarlet, more than makes up for those rare occasions when I have to act against  my nature and extend the little swine any mercy.

Consider the skivvy strapped across the whipping bench, receiving a good dose of the cane. I ask if he is truly sorry. If I am simply to carry on regardless of his answer, then some formulaic sobbed “I’m so sorry Mistress” might be as good a response as any other. But he knows I can be merciful, he knows I can be kind. And oh! – how desperately he pleads, how he shrieks for that mercy he knows I can so very easily bestow, remembering those vanishingly rare occasions on which the flogging ceased as a result! How much more he screams when the whipping simply resumes after his desperate begging, or is doubled or tripled at a whim. And yet, later in the punishment, his breathing hoarse as he has little left from screaming, I might ask him again and his heart will leap anew at the thought that I might yet let him off even the few remaining slashes from that dreadful cane and he will beg and plead for me again.

Of course, he knows the chance is always vanishingly small. He must tell himself repeatedly not to get his hopes up: that silently wishing and praying for mercy is almost certain to be ineffective against my stern resolve to enforce my regime. But he can’t help himself, can he? Try as might, he cannot help thinking that this latest unbearable slash of fire across his throbbing backside will be the last, that the remaining strokes that he can hardly imagine ‘taking’ might not have to be taken at all. Please? And then the whirr of the cane through the air and the crack of the latest outrage on his poor abused flesh and the scream that follows a thousand shrieking nerves reporting pain receptors ablaze across his rump. And then, once again, as the pause before the next one lengthens: that unbearable glimmer of hope.

Hopes dashed, Mistress Scarlet – so much more unpleasant than hopes never entertained at all. Don’t you agree? Daily, I inflict pain and suffering on skivvy’s body, of course, but the greatest pleasure of all is to crush a soul, to break his spirit. And hope is like a drop from the fountain of youth: it rejuvenates and restores his spirit, enabling me to crush it once more. To crush it, break it, annihilate it… and yet it comes back for more pain and humiliation (and more there will always be), thanks to hope.

Without hope, I believe, I would have a shambling zombie of a servant to abuse – shambling from chore to punishment and back again in a constant state of degradation and defeat. With it, I have a human being: beaten and subjugated, to be sure, not much of a human being, but as there is always that glimmer of spirit, there is a spark of humanity there. A human being longing and praying that things might turn out not to be as bad as his fears… and vulnerable to the misery when those fears are realised. To be plunged into despair: again and again and again and again. Delightful!

They say sometimes one must be cruel to be kind, my dear Mistress Scarlet. But only the sadist knows that to be cruel – to be truly cruel – one must just occasionally be kind.

Yours in sincere sisterhood

Lady Jessica

A novel humiliation – no hope for the subby

Below is a great comment left by Lady Jessica which seemed to go straight into my trash and then get deleted!  I managed to recover it and I post it here as it is so novel and the poor subby really can’t avoid punishment. Delicious! Lady Jessica is a fantastic Domme with a wonderful style of dominance.

My dear Mistress Scarlet

You are indeed dear to me, as I have been an avid follower of your blog and indeed of your methods for several years. I so much admire the delicious cruelty with which you treat bitch-boy – this post and the previous one being perfect examples of the rare skill with which you so precisely set his conditions of existence., My own skivvy, who used to be Steve but now has no particular fixed name as there is rarely any doubt to whom I am referring, has learned to spot and dread your blog updates, as he knows full well that the same treatment may well be meted out to him in due course.

I have been meaning to write for some time now. One of the very, very rare techniques for humiliation of the sissified male that I have not seen discussed on your blog, dear Mistress Scarlet, is the use of balloons. Have you ever treated bitch boy to the delights of a packet of party balloons? I have found several uses for them.

The first is simply to make my skivvy look more ridiculous than usual. A balloon attached and dangling from some body part or other somehow manages to make even the most careful and humdrum movement laughably inept. Helium-filled balloons of course dangle upwards and a pair attached on short strings one to each ear conveys a delightful impression of some kind of giant toy donkey. Balloons without helium dangle down. A large balloon attached at the nozzle with masking tape to the forehead will dangle and flap around in front of the eyes, boffing gently against the face endlessly, in what must surely be a maddeningly irritating fashion to any skivvy forced to attempt his busy schedule of chores in such a condition.

Yet it is when balloons are combined one with another, Mistress Scarlet, that things really begin to amuse. A balloon tied to the wrist is an encumbrance to the tasks that I expect and require my skivvy to carry out. Two balloons more than doubles the encumbrance but with three, four five all tightly attached to the same wrist… well, the hapless skivvy finds himself wearing a sort of bracelet of inflated latex of clashing cheerful colours. Can you imagine, my dear, how the routine tasks of scrubbing floors, washing dishes or handwashing clothes are hampered by such a bracelet around the wrist? Or by such a bracelet around each wrist? The skivvy can barely even see the task on which he is engaged and is therefore even more likely than his natural incompetence would warrant, to commit errors and fail in his appointed task. It is disappointing when this occurs of course, as his zeal to serve me should allow him to rise above such trivial hindrances to achieving the perfection I deem to be adequate. Fortunately, the cane is always available to assist in developing his skills.

Of course, Mistress Scarlet, balloons can be fragile things. They can be popped deliberately -amusing to sneak up in stockinged feet behind a skivvy intent on some menial task, and suddenly – BANG! – pop one of the balloons dangling from the back of his collar. But balloons also pop ‘accidentally’, do they not, and a skivvy who allows a balloon that his Mistress has kindly awarded him to pop is in for a most testing time with the cane, most testing indeed. The skivvy festooned with balloons, trying desperately to complete tasks to time and the required perfection faces a hard challenge indeed – and one that he has never been known not to fail. Of course, there is no concealing the fault. The sound can be heard throughout the house and the sad little rubber remnants, the pathetic little rag hanging deflated from the wrist, collar or genitals, is almost like a ready-made entry in a punishment book, betokening an inevitable caning.

And so, dear Mistress Scarlet, as I sit here finishing this letter that I very much hope will meet with your approval, my skivvy is decked out in a complete packet of party balloons. Ears, neck, wrists, elbows, waist, knees and ankles are all festooned with gaily coloured rings of waving, rustling and squeaking balloons. Between his legs, two particularly over-inflated pink balloons give an entirely misleading impression of the shrivelled organs to which they are attached. “Birthday girl!” proclaims one, while the other is decorated with sparkly unicorns. There are forty in all – three of which, I regret to have to report, have already popped, so I am afraid the birthday girl will be receiving three sets of ‘birthday bumps’ from my cane for that. Skivvy is currently on all fours, very slowly picking and eating fluff from the floor – so slowly, indeed, that I fear he will not have completed half his task in the requisite time and therefore will earn a still more generous dose with the cane when I come to review his performance.

Oh – and another balloon gone! I fear I am in for a busy afternoon, Mistress Scarlet, so I will sign off now with my very best wishes to you and my thanks again for your inspiring work.

Yours in sincere sisterhood

Lady Jessica

Being a Domme

I was asked the following question:

You have published detailed descriptions of the lifestyles of a number of dominant women now, who are (or were) clearly very dedicated to what they do – Pamela (Candyfloss), Geena P (Suzette), Mary from Maxstoke, Carla, and Christine M; as well as your good self and bb. Obviously they are all individuals whose practices differ, but I wondered if you have any thoughts on what (you and) they have in common. In other words, what are key characteristics, behaviours, or mindsets of highly-committed Dommes?

Here is my answer:

I would be pleased to learn from other committed Dommes where I am wrong or have left  omissions in my views on this. I would list the characteristics, behaviours, and mind-sets of highly committed Dommes as follows.

Firstly it is the strength of mind to reject three of the constraints of  some of our societies’ morals and rules. Our societies would have it that women are the weaker and submissive gender and, that it is wrong for people to be cruel and unfair to others, and certainly people should not take pleasure in being cruel and unfair to others; sadism.

Obviously there are many truly submissive males who are very weak and submissive when confronted by a dominant woman. A matter of simple fact. And these males are only truly content when they feel they are helplessly in the power of a dominant woman.

So, far from it being wrong to be cruel and unfair to these males, it is in fact a kindness. In order that these males are comfortably without doubt that they are helplessly in the power of a dominant woman, things must happen they truly do not like. This might simply be many hours of chores, it might be deep humiliations, it might be physical punishment and pain. But when these things are all over, and these males settle down to sleep that night, they sleep deeply contented sleep, safe in the knowledge, and with no doubt whatsoever, that they are helplessly in the power of a dominant woman!

The next characteristic, behaviour or mind-set is  decadence and hedonism. Dommes have to be able to be unashamedly decadent and hedonistic. They have to be comfortable and relaxed taking pleasure from the situation. LOTS OF PLEASURE! It is amazing how many people don’t commit, without guilt, to spending time on pleasure. I will make a link here with my view, I have expressed often, that sadism is a natural trait in humans inherited through evolution, as a means of clarifying relative statuses in a pack of mammals. It’s form in humans is taking pleasure in inflicting  physical and/or mental pain. It took me a number of years to accept having the word applied to me although there was NEVER any doubt I was a sadist. Now I treat it as a badge I am proud of. It takes independence and strength to reject the behavioural shackles of society to the extent of acknowledging one is a sadist.

Although there has been much coyness on the evidence for sadism being natural,  I am about to mention, recent posts and comments from Dommes have revealed that, like me, Dommes become very physically sexually aroused when being sadistic. Physical sexual arousal takes place in our genitals and orgasms are quick to arrive and huge and frequent. If sadism was not natural, how could it cause physical changes n our bodies over which we have no control????

The next characteristic, behaviour or mind-set is ruthless, pitiless, guilt free determination. The relationship will be set up how the Domme wants it to be, whatever that entails for the submissive male. This often means there are hurdles to overcome and solutions to problems to find and objections from the males to be ignored or crushed with ruthless determination and NO PITY! And in my experience, over the years, how the Domme wants the relationship to be set up will evolve to become more extreme and so there always remains the need  for objections from the males to be ignored or crushed with ruthless determination and NO PITY.

And no guilt either. The male needs cruel dominance to be contented at the deepest level. The Domme must be allowed to gift him that in whatever way she pleases. He gets his deep contentment but the Domme decides how. Her whims, her selfishness, what gives her pleasure, what makes her life easy. It is the Domme’s right to exploit the situation for her benefit, not satisy the fantasies of the male. There can be some small compromise here as another benefit of being a Domme is to have another human in awe of you and addicted to you. Powerful stuff believe me! This may mean doing things to obtain that awe and addiction that one would not have thought of without hearing of the male’s fantasies. NEVER though, doing anything one does not thoroughly enjoy!

So in summary:

  • strength of mind to reject three of the constraints of  some of our societies’ morals and rules,
  • to be unashamedly decadent and hedonistic,
  • ruthless, pitiless, guilt free determination.

I must mention one more important, related issue. I have found there are two types of DS relationship. The first type, like mine, is where the Domme still finds a great deal of pleasure in the vanilla company of their sub male. Watching a great movie, fine dining, travel, etc. I use bitch-boy, (and I tell him so), in his vanilla mode often on such occasions. The second type is where the Domme has lost all interest in the vanilla company of her sub male. The second type is always MUCH, MUCH MORE EXTREME! No let up on the male for one second.

Well these are my thoughts. I would love to hear from others on this topic.

 

Name to shame : Part 2

Well first of all, thank you to all of you who responded to my last blog post. Amusing and fascinating.  The responses made me realise that I should have set out the criteria by which I was to choose a name for the thirteen inch double ended dildo used for having bitch-boy endure deep throat cock suckling practice.

  1. The name had to allow for a queue or stream of a large number of well hung clients for him, (in the unlikely event I would need him to earn me money in the future this way), so the name of a specific individual or singular male does not work for me, although there were some very clever ideas!
  2. The name had to make reference to his forced sissified status and if possible his born again virgin status.

Given these criteria my list to choose from remains quite small and I would be very happy for more suggestions.

Mistress Rain’s suggestion to use a name I could shorten to a few initials is fantastic! I get to use a mouthful of a name, excuse the pun, but for my convenience I can just use a few initials most of the time I use it. Bearing this great idea in mind:

Deep Throat Reamer- the DTR,      Sissy Tonsil Trasher – the STT,      Sissy Throat Blocker – the STB,       Sexless Sissy Skewer – the Triple S,      Virgin Sissy Skewer – the VSS,      BAV Sissy Skewer – the BSS,     Pansy Piece Plugger – the Triple P,     Sissy Slut Skewer – the Triple S.

Not that I have decided on BSS, but as an example, I can just imagine the scenario of a delightfully malevolent female visitor at my house, bitch-boy in his whore outfit with chastity cage on display, and how I could begin the shaming.

ME:     ‘bitch-boy, go and get the BSS, so we can show our guest how I have trained you to perform like a whore for money.’

THE GUEST, chuckling, :   ‘The BSS, what on earth is the BSS?

ME:    ‘Tell Governess Neeta what BSS stands for then bitch-boy. And in fine detail!

bitch-boy, trembling and dying of shame:   ‘The B thtandth for Born Again Virgin, which ith what I am. The Eth Eth thtandth for Thithy Thkewer becauth the B-Eth-Eth ith a thirteen inch long dildo which my Mithdreth pusheth down my throat tho I will be able to earn money ath a deep throat cock thucker if my Mithdreth ever needth me to.

ME:   ‘I am sorry Neeta, the sissy lisps pathetically all the time, as you just heard, so its description of the BSS might have been difficult to follow. ‘The B stands for Born Again Virgin, which is what the sissy is. It never ever has sex with anyone and it never  ever will. The SS stands for Sissy Skewer because the BSS is a thirteen inch long dildo which I push down its throat, skewering the sissy, so it can practice being able to earn me money as a deep throat cock sucking whore, if I ever need it to or if I just want the amusement.’

My BDSMLR site

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

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