Monthly Archives: February 2020


You have the privilege and the honour to dominate Me for a couple of hours, he said with a confident smile. You should be really thankful for that and I honestly think you should pay Me, instead of Me paying you. Anyways, you’re free to wear whatever you want, as long as it’s a short, black leather skirt, shiny black boots, a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. You’re also free to do whatever you want with Me, because I’m the best and most obedient slave in the world. So we’ll start the session with some boot worship. I’m not into feet, because that’s just gross. After the boots comes a bit a face-sitting and some face-slapping. Mild, not wild, because I have a pretty face and I want to keep it that way. Then it’s time for a bit of whipping and stuff. I don’t want any marks, because I have a sensitive skin. Then we’ll do some pony-play, because I like that. Now, it’s a well-known fact that My penis is a magic want and no doubt you’ll be mesmerised as well. Impossible to resist, c’est moi. So, I grant you permission to give Me a blowjob at the end of the session. See it as your reward. No, no, you don’t have to thank Me, it’s OK. Trust Me, your life will never be the same, Mistress, because I’m a super slave.


He rounded a corner and ran into two Female police officers. Man, they looked incredibly sexy in their uniforms; it gave them an intimidating air of authority. He loved it and his dick rocketed to life. They were not friendly though. No, sir! One of them grabbed him by the shirt, pushed him against a lantern post and put Her hand between his legs. He made a high-pitched sound and gasped for air.
Just as I thought, She said, he’s got a boner.
God help us, the other one said, and She made it sound as if he was a highly contagious disease.
Sir, we are the Penis Police and the The Law on Boners, Act 2019, Section 311-a clearly states that erections are forbidden in public transport, parks, on the streets, at sports venues, etcetera.
He growled. How the hell should I know tha-
She silenced him by squeezing his balls. His testicles were now boiling and his dick was ready for a lift-off.
Feel it, Angela, this is a bad one.
The other one dived in.
Jesus! That’s at least a $500 fine, but it’s more likely to be $1000.
He protested and was arrested for having a) boner b) an attitude c) a dick in the first place. He was fined and sentenced to six months in the Penis Correctional Penitentiary at Fort Dick.


He never forgets a single bag or hat-box; buys tickets and tips the guard efficiently, secures a reserved railway compartment; brings the noble Lady tea at the stations (for he travels third-class) and has everything unpacked and ready by the time She leisurely strolls upstairs to dress. He has always the same noiseless step and perfect sleekness and politeness of manner, the same absolute good temper and gentleness of tone, with the same subserviency of voice, the same enthusiasm and energy in his work. He polishes Her boots till She can see Her face in them; clothes are pressed, dried and ironed; hats are brushed; hot water is always at the ready; whips are greased to perfection; the carriage meticulously washed and cleaned; the horses groomed and fed. A Lady’s valet is an unique specimen of fine manners, humility, obedience and complete submission. What he lacks in intelligence he makes up for the vows he makes to serve and obey a Lady. There is veneer, but no real value underneath. Yet, take him all in all, a Lady’s valet is agreeable to live with, easy to manage, useful, faithful and devoted, meek and obedient and without any wishes of his own. He submits with all fear to a Lady, not only if She’s kind and reasonable, but also if She’s strict, perverse and cruel. December 1898 – Lady Rose


She gave me a Grand Tour of submission. Some foot worship, some doggy training, a couple of well-earned slaps to the face, a bit of whipping to warm up the skin (for the horrors that would soon follow) and some CBT to tame the beast and his great balls of fire. Well … in a manner of speaking. The pain was mild and I honestly began to believe I had special powers of some sorts (such a rookie mistake). Then She pinched my nipples with Her long, razor-sharp nails. My body twitched violently.
Aha, She grinned, found your weak spot.
And that was the start of a painful romance between my nipples on the one hand, and clamps on the other. Now, nipple clamps are not that bad during the first twenty minutes or so. You could do a summersault, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t recommend it, but you could. But then, after a while, pain sets in. The clamps start chewing through your flesh like piranha’s on the loose. The clamps restrict the blood flow and pain ripples through your body like a shockwave. But that’s nothing compared to removing these man-eating things. I fear that moment more than anything. The blood rushes back into your nipples, like barbaric herds with a silence to kill. It’s an explosion of pain, there’s no better way to describe it. The more ruthless Ladies would then grab the dying nipples and squeeze them like grapes. Loved it, hated it, feared it, but most of all: felt it.


Someone has to do it. And it’s not going to be Me, slave! So, from now on you’re responsible for cleaning the toilet each and every day. The bowl, the sink, the floor, the tiles; everything. You’re now Prince Crapper, how about that!
Thank You, Madame, he said with little enthusiasm.
She laughed out loud: My word, you still think Female Domination is all about your dreams and your fantasies, isn’t it? Well, it’s not, you piece of shit! 
Keeping the toilet clean wasn’t the hardest and most time consuming job in the world, of course. But Madame’s move in mysterious and merciless ways and quite often She forced him to clean the toilet bowl with his tongue.
Madame, what about all the bacteria and germs, he shivered the first time.
It all depends if you’ve done your job properly, slave. Besides, you’re a germ yourself, so stop blathering, start licking.
She even pushed his head into the toilet bowl and flushed it. He knew the water came from the main water supply line, so it was cleaner than his underpants (but then again: everything was cleaner his underpants). And yet, he dreaded that flush of water more than anything. She knew it, of course She did, and loved it. Sometimes She forced him to clean the floor with his tongue as well. You see, being Lord of the Loo is not as glamorous as it sounds!


She was too demanding for his taste, so he broke up with Her. They agreed to have one last dinner together at Her beautiful mansion. The evening was a bit surreal and uncomfortable, but he made the best of it. Then, round ninish, he became sleepy.  His vision blurred and sounds stilled.
W.what d.did You put in .. in .. my .. d.drink?
Oh, some sleeping pills, She smiled, nothing to worry about, My pet.
Her voice sounded lightyears away. He tried to get up, but his arms and legs wouldn’t let him. Then everything went black. He woke up with a steel collar around his neck, chained to a wall. His ex was sitting on a stool in the corner.
Brenda, he said with restrained anger, what is the meaning of this?
Well, She sighed, if you really must know, I collect ex-boyfriends.
Wha- wait a minute – what??
She giggled. Funny, isn’t it? Do you remember Steve?
Steve, my predecessor? Who immigrated to Australia five years ago?
Yeah … well … I named his cell Australia. So technically speaking, I wasn’t lying.
He’s here???
Yes. And Raoul. And Tom. And Mike.
Big Dick Mike is here as well??? Jesus, Brenda, he left years and years ago.
Leave, leave, that’s a big word. He moved from My bedroom to My dungeon, to be really honest with you. You see, no one breaks up with Me. No one.