Monthly Archives: November 2020

FEMDOM NEWS

What the hell is going on here!
He almost catapulted off the couch and managed to turn the TV off in one swift motion. Nice move, dude! But too late.
I asked you to clean the room, didn’t I?
Yes, darling, y-
Don’t darling Me, Harold! I’m the boss here and you can address Me as Ma’am.
Yes, yes, of course, sweethe- … uh … Ma’am. I can explain everything, I assure You.
She laughed sarcastically.
Thing is, Ma’am, he hurriedly said, that I didn’t expect You to come home this early … s.so I thought had enough time to watch the news.
Is there a news bulletin at 10:40?
Blimey, he didn’t see that one coming! He looked utterly confused, opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
I asked you a question, is there a news bulletin at 10:40, SLAVE?
That word changed his whole demeanor and he shrank in fear. He nervously wrung his hands: N.no, Ma’am, I’m so sorry! I panicked, I don’t know what got int-
Take down your pants, shorts too!
Please, Ma’am! I will clean the room, I promise!
Oh yes, I know you will! But you will do it with a bruised and battered ass. So, pants down! NOW!
He was in a world of trouble. As usual, so no news there.

IN THE MOOD

Loved it the first time I ate it, She smiled, it was delicious.
We’d been talking about holidays, movies, shopping, cooking and everything else under the sun. Just a perfectly relaxed afternoon with a lovely Madame. Not a cloud in the sky, not a worry in the world. Butterflies were dancing in the air, birds were singing.
If I fuck you with a strap-on, do you fantasise about a man?
Holy Moses, where did that come from? I had to pull myself together and said: Well Madame, i-
A simple yes or no will do! I didn’t ask for a fucking saga, did I?
Dark clouds rolled in with tremendous force. From a lazy Sunday afternoon to an all-hands-on-deck emergency in three seconds flat. How about that!
No Madame, I said meekly.
Are you trying to piss Me off, slave? No, to what?? The first or the second question? Her voice raged and thundered and there was lightning in Her eyes. The storm was about to devour me.
First or second question?? I was lost and had no idea what She was talking about.
They’d warned me about Her mood swings, but I’d laughed it away. But me, myself and my ass were about to find out that the rumours were true. Painfully true.

LIPSTICK & MARKERS

There were a lot of people at the party, but it was not insanely crowded. The Mistresses were in a rebellious mood and one of them ordered me to kneel down in front of Her. She took some lipstick from Her purse and started painting my face. Not gently, but as if She was smearing butter on a slice of bread.
Much, much better, one of the other Ladies giggled.
I had to take off my shirt and several Mistresses dug in to help and used my skin for canvas. Not only with lipstick, but with thick, black markers as well. A Woman’s purse is a thing of miracles and wonders, no question about it.
A Lady in red walked by and looked at my forehead.
By all means, She said and slapped me brutally hard in the face.
I didn’t know it yet, but someone had written SLAP ME on my forehead. There was also a red arrow on my cheek, pointing up, together with the words VACANT ROOM. And there was an arrow on my belly, pointing down, with the words: KICK-A-DICK.
Later that night Mistress pulled out a compact mirror and opened it for me to see. Man, my face looked like a lipstick massacre.
You look very cute, She teased.
I forced my Lancôme Absolute Rouge lips in something of a smile.

NAUGHTY DICK

A few months ago you told Me you can’t wear a Chastity Cage, because your penis suffers from claustrophobia. I thought that was funny and decided to let you off the hook. But I told you again and again not to masturbate without My permission, correct? Yes, I stuffed a sock in your mouth and taped your mouth with duct tape, but you can nod, can’t you? There we go, good boy. Yet, I caught you red-handed, wank-handed & dick-handed yesterday. I know you like caning and love whipping, so we’re not going to do that today. Because you need to be punished, not rewarded. So, on the first day of your punishment your balls will be in a wooden Humbler. And, because you’re so fond of whipping, I will whip your trapped balls into a pulp. I know, I know, you’re exited, but stop mumbling behind your gag, because I don’t understand what you’re saying. On the second day your family jewels will find peace in a Stainless Steel Spiked Ball Stretcher. Isn’t that fun? No? Well, we’ll see about that. And on the third and final day of your punishment your scrotum will be inside a cock-and-ball board. Don’t look so scared, slave, the unbearable pain will go away within three weeks. Or four. Sometimes five. Max six to seven weeks. And then you (and you alone) have to choose between a real-deal Chastity Device or an appointment at the Slave Castration Service (SCS).

TRACES OF FEMDOM

Goddess Inanna (aka Ishtar) was the enforcer of divine justice and was believed to be the first dominatrix, forcing Gods and men into submission. One day She approached the gates of the Underworld and said to the gatekeeper:

If you do not open the gate for me to come in,
I shall smash the door and shatter the bolt,
I shall smash the doorpost and overturn the doors,
I shall raise up the dead and they shall eat the living:
And the dead shall outnumber the living!

Holy Moses, that’s my kinda Goddess! Traces of Femdom can be found in books, manuscripts and diaries throughout history. In 1840 there were at least twenty Houses of Discipline in Londen alone: It is very true that there are innumerable old generals, admirals, colonels and captains, as well as bishops, judges, barristers [.] who periodically go to be whipped. Susan Brockway stated in 1725: He gave Mary Gardner money to fetch a penny-worth of rods, [..] for us to whip him to make him a good boy. Theresa Berkley was the most famous flagellant of Her time and one of Her customers wrote: a pound sterling for the first blood drawn, two pounds sterling if the blood runs down to my heels, three pounds sterling if my heels are bathed in blood, four pounds sterling if the blood reaches the floor, and five pounds sterling if She succeeds in making me lose consciousness. From Goddesses, to Priestesses, Empresses and Female Farao’s, and from the 18th century Houses of Discipline to the famous House of Pain in the 1970s in The Hague; Female Domination is of all times.

THE COMMUTER

He missed the train by a whisker, so he called his boss and told him was going to be late. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. Because suddenly ten, fifteen, twenty Women of the FPS (Female Police Squad) raided the platform. Man, they looked hot in their uniforms and his dick sprang to attention as they approached.
Freeze! Get down on the ground!
Whoever they were looking for was in big trouble! He looked around to see who was standing nearby. It was nerve-wrecking and exiting at the same time.
You sir, in the red T-shirt, get down on the ground.
ME??? he asked, pointing at his red T-shirt.
Yes you!! Get down NOW!
He was complete in shock. He was an accountant for Christ’s sake!
This has to be a mistake, he pleaded, I didn’t do anything.
But he went down on the ground anyway, because he was absolutely terrified. Moments later they were all over him, jamming their knees into his back. He was slapped and handcuffed and one of them pulled a hessian sack over his head. They dragged him down the platform and down a flight of stairs.
Please, he begged, You’ve got the wrong man.
They punched him hard and told him to shut up. They drove him away with sirens blaring.
The life of a commuter is no bed of roses, man, hello no!

THE WHIPPING ACT

In the reign of Queen Sasha in 2142, the Whipping Act was passed, directing that disrespectful, disobedient, lazy or downright stupid slaves were to be taken to a square, market place or other public place and to be publicly whipped from the middle upwards. Whipped until the body should be bloody. The notorious Judge Victoria II, once said to the Lady Torturer: I charge you to pay particular attention to this piece of shit. Scourge him soundly, scourge him till his blood runs down! A few months ago, at Nottingham, a young slave, aged twenty, was found guilty of lying and was, by order of the Court of Quarter Sessions, tied to the tail of a cart and whipped all the way up from Maid-Marian-Road to High-Heel-Cross. There are 129 whipping-posts in the city of Nottingham alone right now. The male slaves lament their woes, but to no avail. Because men have mistreated Women over the centuries, and what goes around comes around, as the old saying goes. March 2167, Madame Ellen – The Downfall Of Men.