Category Archives: FEMDOM

HIP-HIP HOORAY

Her wardrobe was bigger than Long Island and She had more BDSM equipment than a Fetish store. So he wanted to give Her something different for Her birthday. He asked Her sister for advice and She suggested …….. a bullwhip. Blimey!
So he bought Her a 10ft long, dark-red/black handcrafted bullwhip. It was a beauty and the birthday Mistress was very pleased with it.  
End of story? Not so much, because an hour or so later She grabbed him by the ear, dragged him into Her dungeon and strapped him to the St. Andrews-cross.
Let’s try this new baby, She said with a devilish grin.
The first lash cracked his back. The pain was intense and worse than he remembered. He tried to brace himself for the next one, but the whip bit him even harder. The speed intensified, as did the pain. She was thrilled, because She loved to hear Her victims suffer. She ordered him to sing Her a birthday song, while She tried to whip him in half.
Happy birthday to You, happy birthday to You, he sang.
Louder! The whip cracked.
Happy birthday, dear Mistress, happy birthday to You-oe-oe-oe!
His back was raw and sore for days. You see? He should have brought Her a box of chocolates.

AQUA FEMDOM

They asked if I was baptised, the Femdom way. What did they mean by that?
What do You mean by that, I asked.
Oh, my God, one of them said, we have a heathen!!!
They took me to the valley, where the river meanders and snakes, and dragged me into the water. No one told me to take a deep breath or anything; they just pushed me under water and held me there till nightfall. Well, that’s not true of course, but it really felt that way. When they finally allowed me to breathe, I emerged like the Loch Ness monster itself. I cried out in fear. Which proved I was not the Loch Ness Monster after all.
We baptise you with water, for We are the Mistresses of the World.
And down I went. And up. And down again. The ups were ridiculously short and the downs frighteningly long. I drank half the river and about nine trillion bacteria. When it was over, I washed ashore like a piece of human wreckage. I had a horrendously awful taste in my mouth and I begged for some water.
He’s such a great sport, they said, and dragged me back into the water again.

VERBAL HUMILIATION

Look at you! You’re not a man, you’re not even a shadow of a man. You’re a freak of nature, do you know that? Oh shut up, it’s a rhetorical question! There is a tiny brain in your tiny, tiny dick. It will end up in a jar at the museum one day. You think with your dick, that’s why I have ultimate power over you. Because I control your dick. You don’t have a clue what I’m talking about, do you? Blessed are the poor in spirit. You’re still a virgin, no doubt, because seriously; who would date you? I’d almost pity you, if you weren’t such a loser. Look at you now. On your knees and shivering like a shaved Chihuahua on a cold winter’s day. Helpless, Powerless & Worthless, that sums you up in three words, doesn’t it? You’re an annoying little bug that I could crush beneath My heel. And yet, you will do anything for Me, no matter what. Oink like a pig, bark like a dog, neigh like a horse. You are so pathetic, there’s no other word for it. A disgusting, empty-headed creep with a microscopic dick, that’s what you are.
Her slave smiled and gleamed of happiness. She was always so kind and uplifting to him!

A PERFECT REMEDY

The mucus, doctor Angela said, is stuck in your upper chest.
His mouth fell open.
Snot, She explained, mucus is snot. Anyway, let’s move on. Pants down!
He was too intimidated to talk back, so he pulled down his pants. His rock hard boner sprang out into the open. Doctor Angela shook Her head and put on a strapon.
Wait a minute, he said, that’s a dick!
She slapped him hard in the face.
W.what …
Hush! Or you’ll get another one. I have brains, you don’t! That’s why I’m a doctor and you’re a moron.
He giggled, shrugged his shoulders and admitted She was right.
It’s not a dick. It’s a plunger and it works miracles.
She strapped him to a table. The dildo entered his ass like a freight-train enters a tunnel. He tried to take it like a man, but failed miserably. He begged an begged Her to stop, but She didn’t. Instead She fucked him mercilessly for almost an hour. Tears rolled down his face and his ass felt like an old abandoned mine shaft.
How’s the chest?
My CHEST??? Are You seri…. Not good, thank You very much, it didn’t help.
Then I expect you to be here tomorrow morning at 11:00. Don’t you worry, I’ll fuc … oops, I mean: I’ll fix you up in no time.

THE MAN FROM SEATTLE

True story: once upon a time a man flew from Seattle to Prague (8.400 kilometres, via Frankfurt in 14 hours time). He rented a car at the airport and drove through the countryside and small villages. It took him more than two and a half hours to cover the 167 kilometres. He parked the car outside the weathered white walls and the entrance gate to the feared and famed Other World Kingdom (aka OWK). One of the Ladies of the OWK was waiting for him inside, just fifty meters away as the crow flies. She would be his Mistress and train him for the next five days. He’d been waiting for this day for what seemed like forever, and now it was finally here! He sat there in his car, staring at the entrance gate. His heart was racing, he was breathing heavily and waves of panic rushed over him. Nothing moved, no birds, no dogs, no people, not even a breeze. As if the world was holding its breath. Then, after half an hour of fear and suffering, he started the car, drove back to Prague and returned to Seattle that same evening. Dreams can get you somewhere, but fear will get you nowhere. Don’t be the man from Seattle.

HARNESS RACING

And they’re off, Ladies & gentlemen! Idiot in the middle with Lady Elsa’s Scrotum close behind and Silly Boy is followed by Bag-O’-Shit with Rocking Horse, driven by Madame Cindy, running hard a few heads away. Here comes Mistress Nikki’s Nightmare, neck and neck with Lady Jane’s Eunuch. Goddess Anja’s Idiot is struggling to keep up on the inside, pushing Rocking Horse out of the way. Nikki’s Nightmare is now leading by a nose. Bag-O’-Shit, driven by Baroness Barbara, is trading spots with Countess Carla’s Silly Boy, in the middle of the pack. Idiot is at the back now. And here come’s Lady Elsa’s Scrotum on the outside, running like the wind, passing Nightmare and Eunuch. They’re rounding the corner for the final approach. Everyone is getting up from their seats. Elsa’s Scrotum and Nikki’s Nightmare are now pulling away from the pack. Holy Moses, look at them going! Testicles sweeping from left to right, like castanets gone crazy. The others can’t keep up, they simply can’t keep up. Lady Elsa is skinning Her Scrotum with Her whip. She’s neck and neck with Nikki’s Nightmare …. Elsa’s Scrotum, Nikki’s Nightmare …. Fifty meters to go, the roar of the crowd is deafening … And it’s Elsa’s Scrotum who’s won the Prix d’Amérique 2021!!! What a race and what a nightmare for Mistress Nikki.

CBT HOTLINE

Good day, Ladies & gentlemen, my name is Harold and I’m the chairman of the SOS Emergency Hotline for Cock & Ball Torture Victims, better known as the CBT Hotline. Now, a devastating kick or knee to the groin is understandable and necessary at times. And even the Cock Shock Remote CBT Cock Ring has its usefulness, although, I must admit, there is no consensus about that in our group. But humblers, ball-crushers and ball-stretchers are really a bridge too far, Ladies & Ladies. Let alone hammering nails into a man’s scrotum! Our productive organs are invaluable for the survival of our species, and smashing nails into our family jewels can lead to all kinds of nastiness. Some of our callers suffered from insomnia, hysteria, apathy, anxiety disorders and foaming at the mouth. This has to sto-
He heard Her footsteps coming up the stairs.
Harold, are you in the bathroom?
Yes, dear.
Talking to the mirror again, are we?
Well….
What was it this time? Female Domination on planet X? Nipple torture in ancient Greek?
Cock and Ball Torture, if You really must know.
Ah, that old yawn! Your famous CBT speech! Standing ovation, no doubt, Harold?
He giggled. She was such a good sport.
I want you to come downstairs, so hurry up. Bring a hammer and a box of nails, will you?

BRING ME A MAN

Men are primitive creatures who carry their brains in their penises. By the time they come here, they’re full of shit. The men of course, not their penises. It’s My job to remove the layers of ignorance, stupidity and stubbornness. It’s like peeling an onion, really. The only difference is that they do all the crying. Some Ladies prefer the lenient approach, but I’m not one of them. Spare the rod and spoil the child, as they saying goes. Men are competitive by nature and they will challenge you. Unconsciously perhaps, but deep down they want to know if you got what it takes. You’ll have to deal with that straight away, that’s My firm believe.
Breaking a loud-mouthed, obnoxious guy into submission is such a rewarding and gratifying experience, it really is. Some try to fight back, like in a bad Hollywood movie. So cute! And so pathetic. To remove that last thick, stubborn layer of male pride, that’s My favourite part of the training. So bring Me a man and I’ll give you a slave.

SPEAKERS’ CORNER

Yes, I run a tight ship, but I’m doing as nature intended. Because, let’s face it, Harold, you’re a man, a mistake on socks, an arse with teeth. You wouldn’t know what intelligence was, even if it smacked you in the face. But you want to be heard, you say, because you have feelings and desires as well. Now, I’m a reasonable Woman, you know that, so the floor is yours. Speak freely about anything you wish. Let’s hear it, Harold! 
She had Her husband tied to a chair and ball-gagged. He was drooling like a raging river.
Kai-wwaa-gggkk-wwoo-ggeekko.
Good, good, that’s a start. Let it all out, Harold!
He struggled frantically in his ropes and roared like a caged lion.
Ka-ka-goouu.
Good point, love it.
Kaka-fla-kiki-ka.
This went on for half an hour and then he gave up, because he was about to drown in his own drool. Her smiled melted away and huge glaciers moved into Her eyes. Her mood and the temperature in the room changed dramatically.
There’s a valuable lesson to be learned here today, Harold. You’re a slave, and slaves don’t live in a democracy. If you want to be heard, then go to the Speakers’ Corner in Hyde Park on Sunday. For the rest of the time, keep your trap shut and do as you’re told. 

DOG TRAINING

She ordered me on all fours and walked through the room, with me crawling right behind Her. Commands came in quick succession: roll over, down, sit pretty, stay, play dead, come. Being a dog is a pretty exhausting business, I can tell you that much.
Wag your tail, puppy!
I wasn’t going to dangle my dick, so I showed Her my ass and shook my butt.
I see no tail, She said dryly.
It’s very, very tiny, Mistress, I said.
Big Mistake! She slapped me hard in the face. And again. And yet again. Like being kissed by a sledgehammer.
Dogs don’t talk, do they, Pluto?
I kept stumm, didn’t even growl. She picked up a dog toy, showed it to me and tossed it across the room. I wagged my non-existing tail and waited.
Fetch!
I crawled like crazy and picked up the toy with …… my hand. Jesus, Snoopy! Seconds later She rammed Her boot on the back of my head, holding my face down to the floor. She grabbed my hair and trimmed it. I got the point.
I fetched the toy over and over again, brought it back and placed it right before Her feet.
Next time we’ll bring out the dog food, She said.
I hid my head under the couch and whined.
Yes, it was a deeply humiliating experience, but I was as happy as a dog with two tails.

SLAP HAPPY

The slap came completely unexpected. Never saw it coming, only felt its dizzying impact.
Wow Mistress, I-
The second one was much harder and smacked my face to the right.
Only speak when spoken to, slave! I know you’re still a rookie, but we talked about this already. Now, patience is not one of my virtues, so shut up till I tell you otherwise.
Yes Mistr-
I saw Her left hand flying in, but it was Her right that hit me. I’m not sure, but I thought I heard birds singing.
I didn’t give you permission to speak, did I?
Aha, the classic rhetorical questions! The famous find-any-excuse-to-smack-him-silly trap. Well, I wasn’t going to fall for it again, no sir! Do I really look that stupid?
Answer Me!
Blimey!! The slaps flew in with lighting speed and brutal force: left, right, left, left, left, right, right, left, right, right! My head was spinning like laundry in a washing machine. Honest to God, She could decapitate a man with Her powerful slaps. This was only my second day of training, so I was learning things the hard way. But then again: is there any other way?

ONCE A TEACHER …..

Life has changed dramatically after the Female Revolution. Female Education Law requires all males (young and old) to attend a Femdom Reform School every two years. It’s compulsory and failing to attend school is punishable without exceptions. The day starts at 08:00 a.m. by singing the Femdom Anthem:
♬ Oh, Mighty Women, in you we place our faith and trust 
The school regime is very strict and disciplinarian. As Miss Cane so eloquently put it: of course you’re allowed to make a mistake, but you will be brutally punished for it. Hear, hear, my bruised and battered ass would say. It’s not just the ass that’s in jeopardy though! Your hands, the soles of your feet, your hair and your ears are all used to discipline you. Sticks can teach a good slave, as the ancient Chinese used to say.
Still, in spite of everything, I’m happy to be here. Because of the Headmistress, you see. She’s so stunning and I hope I will  be Her slave and property one day. But, as She explained: If I take you under My wing, its because I want it, not because you want it. Words of wisdom, but then again: once a teacher …..

ALL THINGS BIG & SMALL

What the freak is that, She said, pointing at his penis.
This, Mistress? This is Goliath.
Goliath? My dear boy, that’s a deformed nipple of some sorts. I wonder what it looks like on a cold winter’s morning. You need a search-party then, I suppose. Tell me, do you use tweezers to masturbate?
No, Mistress, he chuckled. 
I’ve never seen anything like it, it looks like something nasty from outer space. You’re not alien, are you?
No, no, no!
Just asking. I assume you’re still a virgin then? 
No, Mistr-
Are you kidding Me? Sweet Jesus, that’s just freakish. Who on eart- Ah, wait a minute: they loved to be tickled. That’s it, isn’t it? 
Yes, Mistress, he said with a sour face, because Mistress is always right, even if She’s wrong.
I knew i- WOW, look, look; its moving. That’s so gross. Please pull up your pants, slave, will you? I’ve had enough horror for one day. Man, it looks like a slimy carrot, absolutely disgusting. Anyway, time for you to set the table. What do we have for dinner, Colossus?
Carrots, Mistress.

FEMDOM IS ….

Femdom is …. an awful lot of cleaning, I would say. Because I had a heartfelt relationship with detergents, dusters and scrubbing brushes for a long time. At the OWK I cleaned a bathroom floor once with a toothbrush (because serving a Mistress is not about making your life easier, is it boy). Every now and then the Mistress and Her cigarette came in to check up on me. She would drop some ash on the floor and slap me silly for being such a lousy cleaner. Hehe, a bit of humour never hurt anyone. Well, that’s not true, because She almost slapped me unconscious, but you know what I mean.
I cleaned everything: floors, windows, doors, bathrooms, bedrooms, refrigerators, bookshelves, cars, bikes and what not. Once finished, She would inspect everything meticulously. Without saying a word. Which was as nerve-racking as walking a tightrope across Niagara Falls. My heart beat the big drum and my teeth rattled like castanets. And then, finally, Her voice cut through the silence like a slashing blade: Slave! Come here! Sometimes She was satisfied and other times She was (certainly) not. And then I had to do it all over again. Still, I loved cleaning, loved the hard work and loved making myself useful, because that’s what being a slave is all about, really.

COCK SHOCK

The invention of sliced bread, the wheel and the Internet changed human society forever. Be that as it may, but I honestly think the Remote Control Cock Shock Ring should be added to this list. Well, a short version that is, because the name is much too long. Training a slave is a time consuming business. It takes weeks to get through his thick skull and it often feels like flogging a dead horse. It’s exhausting and quite frustrating at times. This lovely piece of kit changes all that. All that needs to be done is to push the button and watch the magic happen. And I assure you: the results are astonishing. From slow brain to fast learner in a jiffy! It’s miraculous! I love to see the panic in his eyes and hear the hysteria in his voice as he begs Me to stop. Yeah, if only ….. He has to squirm and suffer, because it teaches him how to obey blindly. And this device is just what the doctor ordered. Shockingly good, I would say. 

KNEEING

This tiny little GIF is a symphony of beauty and Female power, as far as I’m concerned, and I can watch it endlessly. Which is not difficult, because it’s a GIF and these things go on and on and on about it. But seriously: Miss Belle, one of Britain’s most beautiful models, looking absolutely gorgeous, as always, sexy boots, breathtaking legs; what more can a man ask for? She’s so relaxed, so complete in control, as if it takes no effort at all to make a grown man howl in pain. She’s more powerful than a hurricane with a temper and all it takes is a lovely knee and a fragile scrotum and it’s goodnight Irene. I know, not every knee to the groin is a castrater per se, but when it hits with pinpoint accuracy, you will go down faster than the Titanic.
The last time I got kneed in the groin was at Prague airport, I clearly remember that. The Mistress was so kind to drive me there and She gave me three bye-bye knees to the scrotum in the departure hall. The first one was allright, the second and third made me sound like a castrate on holiday. Nothing beats da power and beauty of a Ladies’ knee, hell no!

BASHING & THRASHING

All that bashing & thrashing, wipping & caning; is that really necessary? And the short answer to that is: yes. Because boys will be boys, men will be men and all that kinda stuff. You see, men are like water: they follow the path of least resistance. In other words: even the most dedicated slave has a tendency to laziness and cuts corners whenever possible. So bashing his brains in every once in a while is a wakeup call and an act of kindness. And you know what they say about a punishment: it’s not a real punishment until you’re crying real tears. Still, it’s necessary, because you have to know (and feel) what will happen to you if you cross the line or don’t follow Her orders. Being Her sub is all about obedience, respect and fear, my friend. Fear for Her wrath is motivator, a inspiration, a medicine for laziness and a cure for sloppiness.

MALE CHASTITY

Corporal punishment is not a punishment at all for a masochist. If anything: it’s a treat, a reward for bad behaviour. That won’t do, will it? So if you need to punish a man, then take control over the sausage between his legs, because most slaves are madly in love with their own wiener. Herds of them will attach a photo of their ding-a-ling to a slave application. Quite disgusting, but there you go. I tend to ignore those applications all together, because I want a slave, not someone who’s obsessed with his own scrotum. 
A most adequate tool to tame the beast between his legs is a chastity device. Put his dick in the nick and power is yours. From now on he has to earn each orgasm. Each mistake will be punished and don’t be too squeamish about it. Be ruthless if you have to, because he loves being in this predicament. Trust Me: the longer his pickle is locked up, the more submissive and obedient he becomes. Besides: no matter where he is or what he does, he will be reminded of the fact that you’re the one who holds the key to his happiness. So lock him up and lock him down, because that’s more effective than a thrashing.