Monthly Archives: July 2022

MOVING ON

I was going to move thousands of miles away from where I lived, so My personal slave became redundant. He had served Me for over ten years, so what to do with such a loyal individual? In My opinion we have a certain responsibility towards these creatures and we should not walk away from that. It’s part of being Divine, I guess. So yes, I wanted to do the right thing for him. However, the next Slave Auction would not take place for at least six months and I honestly couldn’t wait that long. Donating him to a vivisectionist was of course an option, but I immediately dismissed that thought, because I hate cruelty to animals. That sounds strange perhaps, because I nailed his scrotum to the floorboards the other day. But that was not cruelty, that was fun. Well, for Me it was anyway. So I contacted Monique’s Slave Boutique (for all Your Dominant needs and pleasures) and asked if She was interested in a secondhand slave, but She was already full to capacity. And then I got a call from an acquaintance of mine who was interested and asked me if She could borrow him for a couple of days. You know, take him for a test ride, that sort of thing. Five days later we signed the transfer deed. A good deed, indeed!
No, I did not talk with him about it! What on earth has he got to do with anything? He’s a 24/7 slave, for God’s sake! And I’m a lifestyle Mistress, not the chairwoman of a debate club. Furthermore, he is a man, so the empty box between his ears is not exactly a powerhouse, if you know what I mean. Besides, the only power in My house is Female Power.
Lady Laura

MEEK AS A LAMB

A husband must always respect, and constantly fear his Wife. A useful tool in this is undoubtedly the cattle prod. Pookie didn’t know what it was at first. Poor thing. He put on his Albert Einstein look, studied the prod as if it was an object from another galaxy and wondered if it was some sort of paint sprayer device. Nope, I certainly didn’t marry him for his intelligence, that’s for sure. Wished the Creator had given these creatures at least the beginning of a brain. Nothing fancy, a brain the size of a duck would already have been marvellous. But no such luck. Didn’t marry him for his Dinky Toy Dick either, by the way, but we’ll talk about that some other time.
Anyways, I ordered him on hands and knees, his ass facing Me and gave him a jolt with the cattle prod. Long enough to send his haemorrhoids up to his throat. He jumped up from the floor and screamed like a pig on its way to the slaughterhouse. I knew I had found My new favourite tool.
Snookums turned out to be a quick learner and is terrified of that thing. So I use it daily! Around half past three in the afternoon snuggles puts the tea kettle on the stove and I put the cattle prod on the table. When he comes in with the tea, you can hear the cups rattling on the tray. So cute. It’s one of those things that makes it all worthwhile, I guess. Fear is such an excellent motivator and there’s something romantic about a husband who’s ready to shit himself with fright.
Lady Ingrid

FEMDOM POLICE ACADEMY

There will always be protesters and rioters, Special Instructor Evelyn said, there will always be creatures who brake the rules and cause mayhem.
I can’t wait to get My hands on the bastards, recruit Sylvia hissed.
Now, now, S.I. Evelyn hushed, please have some respect for the opposite sex.
The class burst out in laughter and S.I. Evelyn had to wipe the tears from Her face.
God, I should have been a comedian, She giggled.
The Femdom Police recruits will be required to attend a 30-week training academy. They will learn martial arts, like hand-to-hand combat, fist-to-chin, knee-to-groin, foot-to-face, teeth-out-mouth, kick-da-shin and snap-da-finger for example. They will learn how to interrogate and how to torture, how to whip and how to humiliate.
The average man thinks only of himself, S.I. Evelyn continued. We gave them a Communal Masturbation Center, gave them a Testicle-Tennis-Table, took headshots of their penis, enlarged them to poster size (the photo that is, not the penis) so that they could hang it in their room … But no, it was not enough to please the wildebeests. They wanted more, because that’s what being a brainless dick is all about.
The recruits cheered and clapped.
Each and everyone of them has a choice: submit to our will and be a good boy, or be a stubborn asshole and pay the prize. So being a Femdom Police Officer is all about being ruthless, unforgiving and brutal. It’s not our job to mediate, it’s our job to crush anyone who challenges us.
The entire class rose to their feet in a standing ovation.
Valencia, Spain, July 2119

FEMDOM HANDS

She grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall. She was much stronger than me, Sylvia was. I learned that the hard way, because I had been in this predicament many times before. I tried to stay away from Her as much as possible, but She was like a lioness, Sylvia was, always on the hunt for prey.
Open your mouth, She hissed.
I obeyed and She pushed two fingers into my mouth.
Move your teeth out of the way, or I’ll knock them out!
I panicked, I did, because where does one hide one’s teeth in an emergency situation like this? Still, sucking on Her fingers turned out to be an unexpected delight. And when She took them out of my mouth, I moaned a loud “n-o-o-o-o-o”.
Shut up and open your mouth, She barked.
She was never in a good mood, to be honest. Always agitated and always ready to pummel someone into submission. This time She stuffed Her whole hand into my mouth. I had to stop myself from gagging and I was drooling like a Saint Bernard in heat. She was quite unfamiliar with the word “mercy”, Sylvia was, so She took Her time. But finally, after God knows how long, She pulled Her hand out of my mouth and wiped it on my shirt.
Now thank Me!
Thank You, Sylvia, thank You so much, thank You!
She looked at me with Her cold, beautiful, predator eyes.
We’ll meet again, loser, be sure of that.
She’s such a lovely, wicked Angel, Sylvia is.

FISTING TIME

Come on let’s fist again
like we did last summer
Ye-e-eah, let’s fist again
like we did last year
Do-you-remember-when
that fist kept coming
Yeah, let’s fist again
fistin’ time is here
Heeee, and round and round
and in and out it go-o-o-oes again
Oh baby, make Me know you love it soooooo
And then:
Come on let’s fist again
like we did last summer
et cetera

THE ONE

I’ve always wanted to submit myself to the will of one or more Women. It felt as natural as breathing and all I ever wanted to be was a 24/7 slave. My thoughts, dreams and fantasies excited me and I masturbated multiple times per day thinking about it. But at the same time, I never felt the desire to be romantically or sexually involved with a Mistress. I was more into candle-wax than candlelight, you could say. But finding a lifestyle Mistress was not easy, to put it mildly, so I started visiting professional Mistresses. Met some lovely Ladies, learned an awful lot and had some great sessions! But, you know, they whipped me as long as I paid them to whip me, which was a far cry from the lifestyle I was longing for.
And then I met Mistress Angela at a Fetish Party in Amsterdam. She was unlike any Woman I’d ever met before. So elegant, so charismatic, so confident, so strong and so powerful! She said what She meant and meant what She said. Furthermore, She was lesbian. She didn’t hate men or anything, but they were simply irrelevant to Her. Useful as slaves, nothing more. Which was, as you can imagine, music to my ears. A lesbian Mistress, why didn’t I think of that! She took me under Her wing, also known as: She crushed me under Her boot. Everything about Her was pure (and still is) and Her contempt for me was very real (and still is). It has been magical ever since.
‘I don’t understand you,’ one of my friends said, ‘it will never be more than this.’
To which I shrugged my soldiers and said: ‘It can never be better than this.’
slave james

THE BANDANA

I hated the annual Team Building Activities at the office. Bonding is important, they said. Well, I preferred bondage, thank you very much. But n-o-o-o-o-o-o, we had to play beach volleyball in the dead of winter, dress up as pirates and sing sea shanties all fucking day or stand in a circle in a forest and tell each other what we didn’t like about each other. Great fun.
One day, we went canoeing. The wind was howling, there was foam on the water and the rain came bucketing down. Canoe versus cloudburst, Noah’s Flood Part II. No one had thought to bring a raincoat, so it was long and miserable day. In the late afternoon, after hours and hours of ‘outdoor fun’, and soaked to the bone, we ended up in some sort of cabin. There we had a nice meal and lots of wine. One of my Female colleagues became somewhat tipsy and put Her bandana over Her mouth. She pointed Her thumb and finger at me like a gun and said: Put your hands in the air. Right now!
And I did, without blinking an eye.
Such a good boy, She grinned, taking orders from a Woman.
What choice do I have, I said cheeky, You’re the boss.
Amazing what a fair quantity of red wine can do to the human tongue!
Very good, She laughed. You keep them hands up, mister.
Before this moment, She was a colleague, but now She was THE colleague, the dazzling Bandita with the Bandana! So there I was, hands in the air and with steam bursting through my zipper like a geyser. I was willing to sit like this all night, willing to paddle down Niagara Falls for Her.
I wonder if She still remembers it, too. Wonder if She, occasionally, tells the story of the canoe, the bandana and the colleague who had his arms up in the air for almost three hours.

FEMDOM KIDNAP

I was heading to my car, when a van pulled up alongside me. Doors flew open and two Women sprang out and attacked me. I tried to fight them off, but I didn’t stand a chance. A quite sobering conclusion, but it’s the truth. They zip-tied my hands behind my back, pulled a sack over my head and bundled me into the back of the van. After about an hour or so the car suddenly stopped. I was forced down a narrow corridor and into a room. I was pushed against the wall and then they cut my clothes off! ALL my clothes!!! This was far more realistic than I expected and I must admit I was quite a bit overwhelmed. I was slapped, kicked, choked, trampled, insulted, whipped and spat on. Towards the end they forced me to the floor, pissed all over me and left me lying there for at least an hour. They returned into the room, untied me and ordered me to put on the clothes they brought with them. Which was easier said than done, because I couldn’t see a thing with the sack still over my head. The clothes turned out to be way too small for me and it was near impossible to squeeze myself in! They took me to the van and drove me to the outskirts of town, kicked me out, removed the sack and drove off into the night.
I never got a good look at my kidnappers and would not recognize them in broad daylight. I was exhausted, hungry, stank of sweat and urine, looked like an adult in children’s clothes and I had a long walk ahead of me. I didn’t care. I headed home whistling and smiling the entire way.