Tag Archives: T&D

The ‘S’ word and the ‘C’ word

I mentioned in my post on 21 August 2019 the term or label ‘SADIST’, along the lines of the following two paragraphs.

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. One must have power over the subject of ones sadism. (Be of higher status in the pack.)

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. (My definition is someone who finds pleasure in inflicting physical or mental pain on another.) Now I treat it as a badge I am proud of. It seems it takes considerable independence and mental strength to reject the behavioural shackles of society to the extent of acknowledging one is a sadist.

One comment on that blog post re-confirmed that other Dommes have a problem with the word, sadist. I am really wondering why I too used to have this problem years ago, and so many other Dommes still do. I am fairly sure that if a Domme says to a sub male she meets, that she is a sadist, the sub male is instantly in awe of the Domme and instantly placed on a pedestal. So why the resistance of Dommes to the ‘S’ word; many of whom ARE happy to be labelled, cruel?

I should amplify that causing pain can by of the physical type; or mental pain through serious humiliation, degradation or tedium; or the pain of teasing and sexual release denial.

The definition of CRUEL from the MacMillan Dictionary:

– someone who is cruel, who enjoys causing pain to other people or animals, or enjoys making them unhappy or upset

The definition of SADIST:

– someone who gets pleasure from hurting or being cruel to someone else

I would be very interested to have comments from Dommes who are, and who are not, happy to be labelled, sadist, and why they feel as they do.

I would also be interested to have comments from subs confirming whether they find that hearing a woman is a sadist has an effect on them.

 

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

 

The Amazing Christine M

Well I continue with the, so far very popular, posting of delectable comments I have received on posts on this blog, which most of you, it seems, will not have read.

A number of comments from another of my very, very favourite contributors, Christine M. Christine introduced me, or should I say, bitch-boy’s little birth defect, to the wonderful, fearsome product – Linnex!

I will write here the final sentence of her most recent comment on my previous post. Just wow!

Pitiless? Definitely! I simply don’t care about his suffering, feelings, pleadings, tears, frustrations, tiredness, etc. I adore it when he sheds real tears.

 

Here are Christine M’s most recent comments.

Mistress Scarlet
I think this very much covers the power dynamic, though to an extent, the choice of words may convey different aspects to each relationship.
Firstly, I think a key point was made when you wrote, “… things must happen they truly do not like.” This is what truly establishes a genuinely dominant relationship, the submissive doesn’t get a say in what happens.
In our case, my ‘boy’ would never choose to write hours and hours of lines when travelling, never drink alcohol, endure serious chastity, and be subject to all the restrictions of a strictly raised youth of Victorian times. But, he does sleep peacefully at night, as it provides a needed layer of deep security, which arises from being strictly controlled. Which is perhaps a rephrase of your note, “helplessly in the power of a dominant woman.”
At work, he is a senior manager responsible for many employees. He runs a budget of millions of dollars and must make decisions. At home, he does not even know what is in our bank account, he has no access to it and basically he has only one decision to make, to do as he is told, or not; and if he chooses the latter, he is severely punished! He is told how to do things and when to do them, and is permitted no input into the process.
Though I have never thought of myself as a sadist; I do enjoy such total power, and I live such a wonderful lifestyle, free of chores! So perhaps I am!
Pitiless? Definitely! I simply don’t care about his suffering, feelings, pleadings, tears, frustrations, tiredness, etc. I adore it when he sheds real tears.

 

Scarlet
I certainly do not have the frequency of orgasms you do, but I do achieve multiple orgasms at a time, and they are often cataclysmic, especially when compared to my long-ago ‘vanilla’ life.
More particularly, I feel an erotic upwelling, what might be called a warm swelling flowing from the loins that provides a pleasure that is not an orgasm, but is nonetheless a deep-seated pleasure that will lead to that later explosion. It pervades my whole body in the most pleasurable way imaginable.
This can come from the most simplistic acts of dominance.
I might link this to your previous topic ‘Sweet for her….”
I have written before how David travels a great deal in his work, and that to ensure he doesn’t have time to head ‘out-on-the-town’, browse inappropriate internet sites, watch ill-chosen television programs, or spoil himself with lavish hotel meals, I set him written assignments each evening. As I have explained to him, these are not punishments, just my way of keeping him well-occupied and out-of-trouble.
Setting him this work is something I find incredibly erotic, as I know how much he hates it, how tired he often is, and how tedious it must be. Yet knowing this excites me to be… well, quite frankly, at times, a real bitch!
E.g. On his last trip, he had a 28 hour travel time from home to his hotel room. He arrived in his room at 6-30 pm, in his new time zone, 1-30 am my time. His flight had been delayed but he had been instructed he must call me on arrival.
I was a little bleary-eyed, but pleased to hear from him and we had a really pleasant 30 minutes chat, talking about my prior day, his travel experience and general domestic matters. Finally I yawned and advised, I needed to go back to sleep and I felt sure he would be anxious to start his written assignment for the night.
Well, there was a stunned silence, following such a friendly chat and my knowing he was exhausted, he clearly expected to be ‘let-off’; not that that has ever happened before! I could hear his quiet sobs of anguish as I dictated his ‘line’ for the night.
Smiling at his obvious distress, I lightly advised, I had planned for him to write it out 50 times, since I knew he would be very tired on arrival and wanting an early night; “but since you woke me up, let’s make it 100 times.” He was stunned, and silly enough to stutter, “but that will take well over 2 hours, please…” His words tailed-off as I quietly, very gently, advised, “I am sorry David, you are correct, that is not appropriate, I am failing to show you how much I care for your well-being. You would still have time to get into trouble, we need to make it 200 times!”
Well he was devastated, I was enervated… and had to pull out my wand immediately afterwards!

 

Hello Scarlet
I mostly make use of domestic items as our ‘relationship’ to BDSM focuses around strict Victorian/ Edwardian times discipline for youths. I do consider tightly securing David for a thrashing to be essential. It is my firm opinion that, to quote, “the punishment does not really commence until the tears begin’; and that, if a punishment is to be delivered, it should be ‘impossible’ for the culprit to remain in place and stoic. A punishment is meant to to hurt abominably and I expect to hear screams and see tears. I want to hear screams and tears! Only then do I know I am achieving the desired effects: Correction, Contrition, Regret, and an earnest Desire for Self-improvement….. and I really enjoy knowing he is suffering!

 

Hello Scarlet

I am glad to hear BB finds it so dreadful and sobs loudly too. I sometimes wonder if David might be exaggerating how bad it is in a bid for a bit of compassion. I don’t ‘do compassion’ though, it excites me so much to see him racked with pain.
I really wonder whether Andy and Will above have ever experienced Linnex, and if they would be so cavalier with their advice of using a condom to make it worse, had they done so.
But reading this again, it did remind me that I used to sometimes use a condom as it did seem to increase the level of the screaming, and burn for a bit longer.
I haven’t told David yet, but I just bought online a pack of Reusable Penis Sleeve Delay Elasticity Condoms. They look like they fit very tightly and are much thicker than usual condoms to trap the heat better. David will soon find out just how dispassionate I am of his plight,
I will bring them out after about 15 minutes of burning, gently stroke his nipples (that alone brings on extra screams as the blood engorges his inflamed gristle) and secure the condom. Wicked! I am excited thinking about it.
Regards

Christine

 

Dear Mistress Scarlet
I was doing a Google Search and I rediscovered this note from you. I was wondering how much have you escalated BB’s Linnex treatments?
Has he had a liberal, melted application over the entire shaft and head?
How did he cope?
No matter how many doses David has had, he still shows that same look of hope in his eyes during those 3-4 minutes after I have finished the application of the salve, and before the salve starts to burn. (Yes, I spend a good 2-3 minutes coating his penis with the melted Linnex!)
He still tries to convince himself that this time the fierce burning will not arise. Then, as always, the look of total abject fear crosses his face, as the first tendrils of warmth appear, before the pain rapidly builds to a crescendo that is unbearably excruciating. Secured as he is though, he has no choice but to bear it; though be bucks and writhes violently, and screams and shrieks in agony. Again, despite so many past doses, he still cannot cope with the fearsome burning.
How does BB go? Does he writhe violently and scream as if to wake the dead?
Or is David just a big baby like I tease him afterwards?
Warm regards

Christine M

 

Dear Mistress Scarlet
Appropriate to this theme is a recent escalation my boy experienced.
Whenever his ego gets in the way, he is subject to a date with Nurse Linnex. This is rubbed thoroughly into his little william and elicits many howls and shrieks of agony. He really is a big baby over this. I have also frequently threatened to tie off his ball sac with a stocking and liberally coat his balls with melted Linnex too. The concept has long terrified him as he is well aware how bad the pain is when his penis just brushes against his testicles, and releases a little of the embrocation, when he writhes around. I have teased him by caressing him with a stocking while he waits for the Linnex, and taunted him of it occurring, but always the stocking has been put away.
Well, on the evening in question, he was scheduled for a Linnex treatment for some minor disobedience at a party we had attended the evening before. Since my friend Pam had messaged earlier in the day to say she was going to call me at seven; shortly before this time, my boy found himself standing by the bed, arms folded in front of him, with his hands clasping his shoulders, while I encased him like mummy in many revolutions of plastic wrap.
He looks so pathetic and helpless, his eyes pleading to be excused the torment to come. Begging tremulously to be forgiven. Needless to say this is met only with cold contempt. With his torso bound, he next lies on the bed, with his heels raised on a bolster, allowing me to wrap his legs from his ankles up to his lower thighs, leaving him immobile and very exposed.
I picked the Linnex off the bedside table, suggesting, “Perhaps we should warm this up so we can apply a thicker coating?” He struggled and begged me not to warm the Linnex. Indeed he was still pleading forgiveness when Pam rang and I picked up the phone. My welcome greeting quite a contrast to the cold disciplinarian he was dealing with!
“Just a sec, Pam,” I continued, “I just have to get something out for David, and I’ll be right with you.” And on a whim, I took a black stocking out my top drawer and draped it over his thighs and little toy. The colour drained from his face and he trembled in terror, as I left the room brightly chatting away to Pam. His insignificance exemplified, compared to my chatting with a friend.
He was in a terrible state when I returned nearly an hour later, no doubt having heard my laughter in the background, and tears were now flowing as he begged for the Linnex, but pleaded desperately not to have his balls coated too. Of course I wouldn’t hear of this, we don’t do leniency in our house. “Right,” I coldly snapped, “it’s about time we put Nurse Linnex to work!”
Without further ado, I drew the stocking under his privates in a see-saw motion, finally stopping with it centred under his organ where it meets his groin, before very tightly wrapping the stocking twice round the base of his penis and ball sac; then, even more tightly, several times around the very top of his ball sack, so his scrotum was stretched tight with his balls totally exposed and bulging out like taut balloons. He was breathing deeply, big gasps, shivering and whispering aloud, “Oh my god, no…. please no… I can’t take this….. please no…. please this can’t be possible… I can’t believe you’re really going to do this… please… please spare me…”
His appendage, hard as a rock, balls ready to burst, I calmly advised, “I am sure you are anxious to get started, but I need a minute to prepare the Linnex.” I quickly returned with a bowl of steaming hot water covered by a towel, to keep the heat in, and my hair dryer. The Linnex was wrapped in some cling wrap and left to steam in the water, while I blow-dried his privates. He was soon squealing as I worked the hot air to open up all the pores.
Satisfied with my preparations, I put on a pair of rubber washing-up gloves and readied the Linnex. Gripping the base of his organ firmly in my left hand, I softly hummed “Here we go round the mulberry bush”, as I pressed firmly down and rubbed the melted stick slowly round and round the knob, again and again, round and round; then up and down the shaft, all around, up and down, and then in circles round and round, slowly descending to the base, and then slowly back up to the top, circling in the other direction, and around, and down again until it was coated in many layers of the nasty embrocation. I then smiled as we waited for the searing pain to commence.
It normally takes about eight minutes to reach a crescendo, and it is always so amusing to watch his face as he anxiously waits, ever hopeful the scorching pain will not come, then the look of dispair as the first warming effects arrive! It was a very hot, sultry evening so the effect was worse than normal. Coupled with the opened pores, and lengthy application, he was screaming and jerking helplessly on the bed within a few minutes. Conscious of little but the fiery agony enveloping and engorging his penis.
Smiling brightly I advised, “I’ll give you ten minutes to enjoy that, and then we’ll continue,” as I replaced the stick in the hot water bath.
When I returned he was till squealing and writhing like a stuck piglet, as I calmly donned the rubber gloves again. This time I firmly gripped him at the very base of the scrotum with my left hand, pulling the sac even tighter, so his testicles were as hard as a football, allowing me to press firmly down and thoroughly rub the Linnex in, ensuring it penetrated deeply and that the entire sac was liberally swathed in the pungent embrocation.
The escalation effect was marvellous, his screams were enough to wake the dead! I could hear him from the far end of the house. In fact after about five minutes I had to attend to him. He was coated in sweat, from his exertions and the sultry night only made it worse. Even I had a light sheen of perspiration on my brow. He was writhing and jerking and begging for some relief, “Please Ma’am, please, I need you to cool it down, I can’t take it, I can’t, it is too much. I need an ice-pack, the air-conditioner, anything, it’s too much, please, please, a cold flannel, ice…. Please?
I lighly remarked, “My my, you do carry on, I’ve never heard so much noise, it’s a good job we don’t have neighbours!” He continued to groan loudly, begging for relief, an ice-pack, anything to take the pain away.
Eventually I decided I would have to something about the all the complaints and loud bawling. “David, you are going to give me a headache with your histrionics. Give me a few minutes, I have an idea how to provide some relief and help you cope better.”
“Thank you, thank you,” he gasped, “quickly please, I simply can’t take it anymore.”
It was such a hot evening, that I returned with a some ice packs and a gag. The gag inserted, I smiled, down at him, “There, that’s a big relief from all the screaming, I couldn’t hear myself think. And you can bite down hard on the rubber to help cope with the pain.” He was still grunting and writhing, but I could see he was also biting down hard on the gag, and it was much, much quieter.
He looked on aghast then when I took the ice packs and wrapped them in a towel that I placed around my neck and shoulders. I burst out laughing, “You didn’t really think they were for you? What would be the point of going to all this trouble to maximise your suffering and then letting you off?
“Now, I realise the heat trapped in here helps enflame the Linnex, so you don’t want the air-conditioning turned on; but it is far too hot and stuffy for me, so I am going to leave you to enjoy the full effects of Nurse Linnex; while I relax and cool off in the lounge with my ice pack, a cold drink and the air-con turned up high.” He shook his head and jerked about as the reality of his ongoing suffering bit home.
His writhing and agonised groans lasted for over two hours! Most enjoyable. We will definitely do that again! NB Of course the stocking was released immediately following the application of the Linnex.
What about escalation potential? What could be worse? Not much I expect, except of course a hefty double or even triple dose of Linnex, two hours apart, and we could add a hot water bottle!

 

Dear Mistress Scarlet
So long since I wrote. I always mean to write more often, and I meant to write more promptly on your topic of ‘Tedium’, but it soon became an epic and took longer than expected. I must be honest, I wrote this for my own memories too as I did have such a good time! This also links to past topics on ignoring too. So better late than never I hope!
By the way, I was so pleased to see BB write that he fears the Linnex so much, a good example of sharing. I hope he get plenty of coatings now!
I too love the power providing total control and misery at the same time. It provides me a most wonderful sense of power; and deprives the submissive what they ultimately desire most, the Mistress’ attention. It shows so perfectly, “you are totally inconsequential, I will deprive you of your liberty, I will occupy you with the most mind-destroying, boring, and repetitious task, and not even notice you!
David is raised as ‘youth’ might have been reared in Victorian or Edwardian times, albeit with an exceedingly rigid and ultra-strict disciplinary code. One of my favoured punishments is a ‘strict detention’, the rules of which have, over the years, evolved and become ever more rigid and demanding.
Well a few weeks back, David was running late from work. He blamed heavier than normal traffic, but we don’t accept excuses in our household. He was placed on a Saturday night detention, which had him looking most morose. I had been going out that night with friends, and he had been promised that he could stay up late to watch a big football game. Well he would still be staying up late!
Detentions are very serious punishments in our household, and since Saturday’s always mean chores for David, the whole day becomes extremely arduous. We went to bed together Friday night, and after some light teasing, which had David crawling up the wall, I let him please me with his tongue, as only he can. We then cuddled up to fall asleep. This was when I warmly advised him, “Since you have a Saturday night detention tomorrow, you will need to set your alarm for 4-30 in the morning. I want you showered and dressed ready to start your chores no later than 5-00.” It felt delicious as he went so quiet, clearly numbed by my advice.
“You’ll find a full list of your chores for the day on the kitchen table. I want everything finished before 4-30 pm since you will need to shower, dress in your school uniform and be seated at your desk, hands on head, back straight, ready to start your detention promptly at 5-00. I suggest you make sure you are seated no later than ten to!” I then rolled over and ignored him, he was in punishment mode, but tomorrow would be far worse!
Well I set him an exceptionally full on day of strenuous chores, scrubbing clean two bathrooms and a third toilet, a full clean of the kitchen, all windows inside and outside spotlessly cleaned, several loads of washing and ironing, the outside courtyard to scrub, the whole house vacuumed, living room furniture polished to perfection, bed linen changed and my car washed, waxed and vacuumed. Believe me, he had to work hard and fast; he well knows chores are not to be done leisurely. I expect to see him sweating and puffing for breath, as if doing a full gym workout, he is expected to move quickly and continuously, woe betide taking a ‘smoko’.
I am sure you can imagine that after close to eleven hours of such gruelling toil, the last thing he wanted to be doing was one of my detentions. Nevertheless, there he was at a ten to five, when I entered the room, seated at his desk, looking exhausted and clearly very fretful, in full school uniform, hands on head.
Full school uniform means ‘schoolgirl uniform’, navy blue cotton knickers; white cotton vest; Navy blue girdle, navy blue stockings with rear seam razor-straight; navy blue box-pleat gym-slip, meticulously ironed, ending four inches above the knees; pink school house sash, neatly tied on the right-side; white socks, the pattern razor straight; heavy, black, lace-up shoes; white, long-sleeved blouse; school-tie; grey V-neck school jumper; navy blazer; hair bryl-creamed back with a straight side part and a straw boater secured with a big pink ribbon under the chin. He hates the ribbon as it is so uncomfortable and ‘in-the-way’. He is a school-boy clearly undergoing petticoat discipline.
I had laid out on his desk, three pens, each symmetrically placed parallel to the top of the desk, together with a wooden ruler; a thick A4 notepad, also placed square, in the centre of the desk; face-down (exam style) to the side of this were 15 typewritten pages; and above these pages, a sealed envelope.
My tone was terse, frigid, dripping cold venom, and served to leave him literally trembling with fearful anxiety. “Full detention rules apply starting now!” This means he is to maintain total silence and an exacting posture. He is seated at a school desk with a rubber mat placed under him and anchored just under the front legs of the desk. The desk legs are fitted over two marked squares so everything lines up for his discomfort.
There are three circles precisely placed into which the three legs of his small wooden stool are placed, and they must not move throughout the Detention. Two further white outlines have been applied wherein he must place his feet and again, his feet must remain firmly placed flat on the floor within the marks, throughout the detention. He must sit upright and he is not allowed to rest his head in his hand, he must not ‘fidget’, scratch, rub his eyes, etc.; he must write continuously without pause, and his hands must only be used for his assignment. There are no clocks and he must write unaware of the time and take only one authorised break. The desk top must be maintained meticulously as it was now, and pens and rulers placed down without sound.
“You will write for three hours. There will be a 30 minute meal break at 8-00 pm, and you will then continue for a further three hours!” I advised with my frosty demeanour.
“Your punishment assignment is on the desk. Your quota for the night is in the sealed envelope. If you do not meet your quota, you will be caned. You will then continue writing until you reach your original quota; plus an additional punishment quota that I will allocate. You will also earn punishment if you break any detention rules or uniform rules. You may now read your assignment.”
I sat at my comfortable desk nearby, in a plush office chair and relaxed with a glass of wine, smiling as I watched the colour drain from his face as he read his instructions, becoming ever more agitated. I could tell he wished to protest, beg for a less demanding assignment, frustrated in his knowledge that it would not turn out well for him if he spoke. He glanced forlornly over at me, his eyes beseeching me, he was on the verge of tears. I was delighted, his tiredness and the challenging work I had provided were going to drain him mentally, emotionally and physically.
His instruction sheet read as follows:
DETENTION ASSIGNMENT
Copy out the following pages.
Keep writing until instructed otherwise.
Assign each letter of the alphabet a sequential number, excluding vowels.
I.e. B=1, C=2, D=4 F=5, …
Each word commencing with an even numbered letter is written in BLUE.
Each word commencing with an odd numbered letter is written in BLACK.
Each word commencing with a vowel is written in RED.
You MUST NOT make a written key!
For each new page, commence by:
” ruling a 2 cm margin down the left side of the page, and top and bottom, in red;
” write your name above the margin on the left-hand side of every page in blue;
” write the date in full above the top margin on the right-hand side. Day, date, month (in full) and year, in black.
” write the page number below the bottom margin on the right-hand side, in red.
Each verse is numbered in blue in the left margin.
Each new chapter is centred, written in upper case black ink and underlined in red, e.g.:
LIBER GENESIS I
LIBER GENESIS II
Leave a blank line above and below the chapter.
You are allowed one error per page, which is to be ruled through neatly in red.
If you make a second error, the page is to be removed and discarded. If you try to conceal or ignore an error, I will remove two or more pages.
This first page was followed by the first ten chapters of the Book of Genesis from the Vulgate Bible, in Latin!
Not only was the exercise mind-numbingly difficult, especially given how tired he was, it was a mentally and physically exhausting task that would get harder as the night wore on, made worse by his strict posture controls, and the fact that he must not change his position nor stop writing.
He also faces a terrible quandary, made worse by not knowing how many lines he must write. If he writes slowly and carefully, so he makes no mistakes, he risks not reaching his quota. If he writes quickly to reach his quota, he risks making errors and having to tear out pages!
“Begin” I curtly advised at 5 o’clock precisely. I then drew all the curtains in the office, picked up my wine and moved over to a leather couch where I relaxed and revelled in his misery. He was ignored as I read my book and then chatted with a friend by phone. After thirty minutes I checked over his shoulder, he sighed pathetically, teary-eyed, struggling not to sob. It was a pathetic attempt to garner sympathy or leniency.
He was up to verse 20 in chapter one, and about half-way down the second page of his note pad. I was struggling not to order him to serve me I was so hot. First I set up the security camera to watch over him, before returning to his desk, my icy demeanour, a stark contrast to the light-hearted banter of my earlier phone conversation. I leaned over, took hold of the bottom of the page he was half-way through, and gently tore it out.
“Detention rules are silence at all times, that means no sighs!” He was aghast as I ripped it into four pieces and threw them in the bin. I then hurried upstairs to get ready for a night out with friends, but not before pulling out my vibrator!
The security camera is just wonderful. It is linked to the Wi-Fi in the house, and I can view the feed on my iPhone or iPad wherever I am, provided I am connected to the internet. I see a bright, full colour, real-time, video image. It is very clear and shows a complete image of David, his stool, desk, etc., and I can zoom in to check he is complying with his posture rules. The beauty is, he never knows when I am watching, or if I even bother to watch him. The camera records to a card so I can check back on him too, and even view the feed at fast rewind or fast forward! He dare not break a Detention rule, it even picks up sound!
When I came back down I was dressed glamorously, my hair back in a severe pony-tail, stockings and heels, lightly perfumed and very desirable. He would have been aching to be with me. He didn’t need to know my plans though, he was in detention and being ignored.
My phone rang, it was my friend Carole advising she was five minutes away. I spoke with her in good-humour, before returning to David and snapping, “Your phone is in airplane mode, facedown on my desk. I have set an alarm for 8-00 pm. When it rings, you may take a 30 minute break. Your dinner and a drink are in the kitchen. Make sure you go to the toilet as it is your only break of the night. Do not enter any other room. When you cancel the alarm, place the phone in my desk drawer, I have covered all other clocks. Make sure you are back at your desk, writing, no later than 8-30; I will be checking!”
Again a dilemma for him. He has a thirty minute break, but no way to time it. So he needs to make sure he is back early. As I said earlier, this is a punishment, it is not meant to be pleasant. I would later be enjoying my meal at a swanky new restaurant with a few friends, a few glasses of wine and having a wonderful time. He would be miserable, ‘enjoying’ an overly generous serving of watery, over-boiled squash and aubergine with boiled calves’ liver, served cold, and accompanied by a glass of the water the vegetables had been cooked in. He would struggle to eat it, but there is a security camera in the kitchen too, so eat it he will, and quickly if he is to be at his desk in time! it is not pleasant for him! And all this time he is isolated, alone, ignored, forgotten about.
I returned home late, slightly inebriated, and feeling incredibly horny from the total power-rush of his suffering. I changed for bed before finally entering the office.
“Stop writing NOW!” I coldly announced. He is required to immediately stop writing, if he so much as tries to finish the word he is writing, I will rip out the entire page. He must then immediately place his hands on his head. He was bleary eyed, his face was tear-streaked, the result of crying when he had to tear out pages where he had made mistakes, there were more than a dozen such pages neatly stacked on his desk. I was relaxed in satin pyjamas, my long hair loose over my shoulders, and wearing high-heel mules, ‘Oh how he would have adored to caress my body!’
He sat there, shaking, disconsolate, exhausted.
“How many chapters have you completed?”
I promise you this next bit is the truth, “Pretty well five chapters, Ma’am,” he politely replied.
“What do you mean ‘pretty well five chapters’?” I coldly snapped.
“I am half-way through verse 31, the last verse in chapter 5, Ma’am.”
“That means you have only completed four chapters!” I replied with frosty callousness, “Open your envelope read out your target for the night.”
He nervously opened the envelope, struggling to stop his hands shaking, he really was at his limits, as he nervously read out, “Five chapters, Ma’am.” He was sobbing, he knew what was coming, made worse from being so close, would be praying for leniency.
I remained silent for a minute or more as he nervously fretted, I maintained my frigid demeanour though I was aching to orgasm at the power dynamic in play. I ignored him and left the room for a few minutes before returning with my dragon cane. It is 39 inches long, as thick as my little finger and an very dark brown colour, it is formidably painful. His entire body was shivering and convulsing uncontollaby in trepidation when I finally returned.
I stood beside him, flexing my cane gently in both hands. It is quite a stiff cane, and only bends a little. It is an implement that understandably terrifies him. I looked stonily at him before finally addressing him calmly, matter-of-factly, “I set a target that you should have easily reached if you applied yourself to your task diligently. I have timed your writing and assessed that you can write 1100 – 1200 words in an hour. I usually set your target at 900 – 1000 words an hour depending upon the complexity of the task. Your target this evening was 2514 words! It was 11-50 pm when you stopped writing, so you had an extra twenty minutes, a total writing time of 6 hours and twenty minutes. To achieve your target you didn’t even have to write 400 words an hour! And, you had a break in which to refresh and relax.”
I paused, placed the cane on his desk and slowly paced behind him, as he started, to speak, I angrily snapped, “SILENCE! I do not want to hear a word from you, not even an apology.” I let him stew a while longer before I leaned over him from behind, my mouth close to his ear so he could smell my soft feminine fragrance, my hands resting gently on his shoulders, he could hear the soft rustle of my satin pyjamas as I quietly intoned, “You have clearly been lazy, careless and disrespectful, and now you are going to pay the price…. ”
Standing up I picked up the cane, strode over to the leather sofa and smashed the cane down on the arm, the whir and crack where frightening and he jumped in terror, I was displaying controlled rage to enhance his respect and fear.
“There will be no break. You will remain in detention and complete chapter five. You will also copy out chapters six and seven before you retire for the night.” I didn’t think it possible for him to look more morose and sorrowful, but he did, in fact he almost collapsed, sobbing loudly in despair and self-pity, real tears flowing. It was all ignored.
“But first, you are going to receive 12 strokes of the cane across your bare buttocks!”
it was 12-20 before a very tired, sore and dishevelled ‘school-girl’, got back to his detention, and it was almost four in the morning before he finished and retired to bed.
I was in bed exploding in orgasms at the imagery of the evening, and woke several times to play with my vibrator before falling into a deep sleep, I didn’t even hear him enter the room.”

 

Below is a blog post of mine from 2017, giving links to access earlier posts on which she has commented, previous to those above.

More from Christine M

Well my last post seems to have created many admirers of Christine M. Admirers who have clearly not been reading the comments to posts; as her comments on posts are so often indicative of her amazing, merciless, dominance.

I therefore provide a list of the posts on which she has commented.

1,   2,   3,    4,    5,    6,   7,    8,    9,

 

Those mean wedges!

Well I don’t know if any of you noticed that I was wearing my stomping wedges in the cover photo of my recently published 14th journal. And you may recall these became bitch-boy’s new girlfriend in early March.

I can report that since the 4th March bitch-boy’s only sexual releases have been when his birth defect has been under the sole of one of my shoes while I am on the stomping platform and his defect is poking up through the hole. So in just over a month it will be the six month anniversary of him only ever cumming under my shoe. Poor puppet.

I have not been a fan of wedges before but when stomping, they make life so easy as there is no need to concentrate. There is no gap between heel and sole in which the defect can find refuge from being squashed. So any pressing down of the shoe ALWAYS FINDS IT’S TAGRET! These wedges because of the narrow heel and middle section allow for considerable pressure to be applied per square inch, as it were.

Journal 14 is available as paperback and ePub as an eBook, both on LULU.com and also available on Amazon KINDLE.

KINDLE by country.   US   UK    DE    FR    ES    IT    NL    JP    BR    MX    CA    AU   IN

In time it will be available on NOOK, KOBO, Scribd, Apple, Barnes & Noble, etc. I will let you know when it is. I will also then provide a Universal Book Link from Books2Read.

I hope you enjoyed reading these fine detail accounts as much as I enjoyed the activities described.

eBook /ePub for Journal Vol. 9

It came to my attention that There was no Epub / ebook version available for my Journal number 9 on Lulu.com, Nook, Barnes and Noble, etc.

I have fixed the problem and it is now available on LULU.com as an Epub / eBook.

In a relatively short time it will be available as an ePub / eBook on; NOOK, KOBO, Scribd, Apple, Barnes & Noble, etc. I will let you know when it is. I will also then provide a Universal Book Link from Books2Read.

The wonderful Dommes’ comments

Further to my post on 9 July 2019, when I set out that my survey revealed that the vast majority of dear blog followers do not read many of the comments to my blog posts, I will now repost an old blog post once a week or so, and on that post I will include all the most delicious comments received in the following three weeks since it was posted.

These will mostly be from other real life Dommes, although occasionally from the long term subs of real life Dommes. So many of these Dommes, and the things they get up to, are simply amazing! Sometimes as in this first case, I will include other comments from a particular Domme to add to the description of her character and activities.

Please let me know if I should continue with this concept.

I will start with a fantastic Domme who is recent to my blog and has only commented a few times. (Some have been with me for years and I will think about how to handle that.)

ORIGINAL POST               Best cock stomp vid – at the hairdressers  

I doubt I have posted enough to fully explain my pleasure from how much I love stomping on bitch-boy’s cock when it pokes through the stomping stage to which he is bound. Stomping, squashing, kicking, pressing and twisting. I really could do it for hours.

And the fact that the only way he has been allowed to come since early March, is with me on the stage and rubbing his birth defect under the sole of my footwear, simply increases the cruel decadence I feel!

I do love videos of this activity and particularly those videos when the stomping Domme is almost ignoring the male while his cock is squashed and tortured under her shoe; while she gets on with something else. Me kissing and caressing my girlfriend as we stand on the stage while one of us has bitch-boy’s birth defect under a pressing and twisting shoe is certainly an example of that delight!

Well this short video is a FANTASTIC example of that phenomenon!

I particularly love squashing the object when it is flaccid for two reasons. One is that it can be almost squashed flat and it can be grotesquely deformed in the most bizarre ways; especially the head. The second is that the male is not sexually aroused while being abused so.

And well, could female supremacy be better portrayed in a single image, than an image of a flaccid cock grotesquely flattened and deformed under the sole of the shoe of a woman?

THE COMMENTS ON THE POST FROM THE AMAZING mrs Sonia meloni

“And well, could female supremacy be better portrayed in a single image, than an image of a flaccid cock grotesquely flattened and deformed under the sole of the shoe of a woman?”
I just adore you words! So true, the very essence of female dominance!
I also love to squash his flaccid cock under the sole of my riding boots but since he still manages to have some kind of erection, just by looking at me, when he gets out of his cage only for a few minutes, once or twice a year, (for the prostate gland’s health reasons) I lash his cock and balls with my quirt, and then, when his pathetic little thing is all black and blue for the relentless whipping, I roughly rub and press the soles of my boots on his rather swollen, pain-ridden clit, inducing a painful, ruined orgasm. Then he washes himself and gets back in his cage for months and months… But this way I get my own, intense, beautiful orgasms!

[This is also very nice – LINK] and quite similar to what I do to my boy…

……………………… I guess I forgot to add that he’s also in lifetime chastity, that is, except a few times a year, when I let him spurt (for health reasons) freeing him of his cage and adding pain by rubbing hard his now tiny cock (just like a girl’s clit… lol) with the sole of my riding boots, so he doesn’t get any pleasure out of it.
But I do, seeing how frustrated he is!..

OTHER COMMENTS FROM MRS SONIA MELONI

ON the post about orgasms and faithfulness for Dommes

That’s absolutely true: at my age (now I’m over 60) a vanilla woman could be pretty sure of being substituted for a younger woman, or, if married, cuckolded. That was the case with at least a couple of my lady friends.
But a dominant, sadistic one can be pretty sure that will never happen, because her slave is completely and utterly taken not only by her beauty (that can linger also at a mature age) but by the irresistible charm of her cruelty!
My slave was just 18 y.o. when I collared him, 20 years ago, and he’s still madly in love with me, loving every minute of the tortures and punishments I inflict on him to get my delicious orgasms and I’m rather sure he’ll continue on worshiping me even when I’ll be an old lady, like the legendary Catherine Robbe-Grillet…
Warm hugs to you, my dear soul sister!

Double padlocking the chastity cage

One thing I never get bored of seeing, is my poor puppet in his double padlocked chastity cage. There is something about the clarity I see of the ABSOLUTE INESCAPABILITY and also my sense of TOTAL OWNERSHIP of that controlled part of his body. I OWN IT! I decide what happens to it and when; not him.

(The lower padlock runs through the cage bars and his frenum piercing.)

LINK TO PHOTOS OF HIS BIRTH DEFECT IN ITS DOUBLE PADLKOCKED CAGE

Of course if I am sashaying about in my see-thru, sheer dressing gown and six inch heeled platform mules while he looks on in despair and desperation, all the better.  And if its been a loooong time since he has cum and I have been having many orgasms every day, even better still. The power and the meanness; just from walking about!

This is not me in the image. I do have a smaller waist and slimmer thighs and my very narrow Brazilian strip is always on display – never panties. (She is very beautiful though.)

 

More eye to eye torments!

First, a quick question to my wonderful blog followers. Do you read all the comments on each post of my blog?

The reason I ask is simple. When I publish a post, like the last one on, eye to eye tormenting. I quite often get great comments sent to me with delicious ideas and depraved practices of how to use and abuse a sub that I have never thought of or heard of before.

I am then wondering. Should I post again on the initial subject but updated with the cream of the comment material? Or do I assume my wonderful blog followers read all the comments on each post of my blog and so I would be publishing duplication? I would hate for any of you to miss out.

As an example; activities from comments, I obviously had not included in my original post on eye to eye tormenting include:

  • Ball squeezing in the hand.
  • Tease talking while using a pin wheel on a cock bursting to get out of, but inside a chastity cage.
  • The long conversation of mocking and pitilessness, )and the responding desperate tearful pleading),  just before applying a TERRIBLE coating of Linnex to his penis.
  • While strapping palms and fingers held very still.
  • While kneeing the in the balls.
  • While spoon feeding him an awful ‘food ‘.
  • Pressing in riding spurs.
  • Missionary position pegging with a too large or beaded butt dildo.
  • While the Mistress masturbates to orgasm and the male is in chastity, and he has not cum for weeks and will not be cumming for a many weeks yet.

There are no straight women

I know this post may annoy some women blog followers, and I apologise if so. (It may annoy some male blog followers but it is absolutely none of your business is it?)

Let me start by setting out why I have published this post. Although it is marginal, lesbian and bi-sexual women can more easily have power over males than straight women and probably more easily maximise ALL pleasure sources. What is not marginal is that they can much more enjoy double domming a male that involves orgasmic intimacy between them.

(The exception is a straight woman who enjoys cuckolding her sub male with another male. But these dynamics can be very risky and are much harder to manage. Furthermore many of us Dommes  are females supremacists and do not want to have sex with any male.)

On 12 November 2015, I posted about a scientific study  that suggested ..‘Women Are Bisexual Or Gay, But Almost Never Straight.’

My own experience supports this position in so far as, almost all the lesbian and bisexual women I know, started out thinking they were straight and started with males, then later moved onto females. This compares with all the gay men I know, all of which knew by puberty they were gay, even if some, for appearances sake, began by dating women.

Well a new scientific study has been published stating that bisexuality among women is statistically on the rise. Since 1972, social scientists have studied the General Social Survey to chart the complexities of social change in the United States. In 2008, the survey started including a question on sexual identity.

In the 10 years that the General Social Survey has included a question on sexual identity, rates of identification among gay men, lesbian women and bisexual men in the U.S. haven’t changed much.

Bisexual identifying women, on the other hand, account for virtually all of the growth among those who say they’re lesbian, gay or bisexual. Of all of the women who responded to the 2018 survey, more than 1 in 18 identified as bisexual. One decade ago, only 1 in 65 did. Full Report BY TRISTAN BRIDGES & MIGNON R. MOORE here

I wonder if the more sexuality of all types is accepted in society, the more women will be prepared to confirm their bisexuality or lesbianism?

So given the science, and my experience, my view is that the first study was right; that all women have the capacity to be bisexual and many to become lesbian. If you are a female supremacist and you want to maximise your power over your male sub, double-domme him with a female sexual partner! When this is combined with enforced chastity for the male and a forced Born Again Virgin status for him, the power dynamic is simply awesome!

I have never needed to ‘seduce’ a female Domme while double domming a male with her. A hand slips around a waist as she and I stand side by side watching the male suffer; faces become cheek touching cheek while both spitting in his face; hand holds hand or a hand drops to the other Domme’s thigh while sitting on a sofa, putting the male through miseries. And before you know it there is kissing, caressing and later, full-on lesbian sex.

Each time this has happened, when a woman who thought she was straight ends up in full-on sex with me, there has been no overt or covert seduction. Simply a natural progression of steps initiated by her as much as me. You would almost think it was the natural way of things!

 

Source a cock-stomping stage

On the theme of yesterday’s post, (and previous posts), it dawned on me that so many Dommes will miss out on this powerful, stimulating activity because I don’t believe cock-stomping stages are available for easy purchase, not even on-line.

It is possible to cock-stomp without a stage if the male’s birth defect is resting on a pile of thick hardback books or a coffee table but these options do not any where near provide the full subjugating experience for the male or the full powerful, stimulating experience for the female. I think there is a gap in the BDSM equipment market!

Fortunately for me, bitch-boy is great at things like carpentry so I instruct him to make a cock-stomping stage and I get one. And it is custom made for his body size and my requirements.  (For example, my requirements did include that the stage be easily big enough for my girlfriend and I to both be standing on it in an embrace, or side by side.)

I think a fairly humorous documentary compilation video could be put together on cowboy built home made stomping stages. I have noticed in videos, stage legs too short so the stage precariously rests and rocks on the males stomach and the Domme needs surfing skills to remain standing. I have also noticed stages with a board of insufficient rigidity so it sags with the weight of the Domme as she moves around and again she needs surfing skills to remain standing.

There are two distinct types though. One type has a hole just the right size for a cock to poke through. The other type has a hole big enough for cock and balls to poke through. My stage is with a cock only hole. The cock is so robust that I feel unfettered in what I do to it with my shoes and boots, while the balls can be damaged fairly easily and require hospital treatment and I do not want to have to be careful when I am stomping. There are however plenty of videos of balls getting astounding treatment from women who are not being careful on stomping stages!

The legs are easily removed for storage with the stage I had bitch-boy make. Perhaps I should have him make  an alternative top with a bigger hole so I can choose on my whim which top to use on any given day?  I did wonder if I should have bitch-boy set up a business providing custom built stages!

If any blog follower knows of a retail source of cock stomping stages, please leave a comment. Considering some of the amazing (and expensive) BDSM furniture that is available and that a good stomping stage is so easy to make, and that the experiences of uses are so intense, I am amazed these stages are not more readily available.

 

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