Category Archives: LIFESTYLE


Submissive creatures up-to the age of thirty-five or thereabouts are subs, not slaves. Because even a man in his early thirties still thinks, talks and acts like a schoolboy. He wants this, he wants that, he wants it all and he wants it now. And six months later he wants something completely different. To him, serving a Mistress is like playing a Playstation game. A game in which he is the main character, needless to say. It’s no criticism, by the way, simply a fact of life. Because it takes time, time, time to figure out what you want to do with your life. Many a sub assures Me that he worships only Me, that I am the beginning and the end of everything. Then the local cheerleader comes along, with Her gorgeous figure and Her mesmerising smile. And before you know it, he’s up to his elbows in a romantic, vanilla relationship. Do you know what I mean? Immature, overconfident, impatient and clownesk … that is not what I am looking for in a male creature. Sure, I will whip, slap, kick and drain the lot of them as long as I’m paid to do so. Someone has to pay for My lifestyle and it’s not going to be Me. But roleplaying with subs has little to do with slavery. A mature slave knows that he is not the main character in the story, but merely an extra. Because Female Domination is never about men; it’s always about Women.
Lady Anna


The first years of our marriage were sweet and exiting. But things changed over time. Don’t get me wrong, we still loved each other, but there was something missing. So we went to a marriage counsellor for a while, but that didn’t help much. Then one day, out of the blue so it seemed, we started talking about leaders and followers, control or to be controlled, Mistress and slave. We decided to give it a try. It was a revelation, it really was! As if the sun broke through the clouds! We eagerly embraced our new roles and what started as a playful experiment four years ago, quickly became a lifestyle. I can now do with him whatever I want, because he is so eager to please, so eager to obey. The more I punish & degrade him and the more demanding I am, the more he loves it.
So, is your marriage struggling and do the both of you think it’s time for a change? Slap your other half in half, grab him by the balls and squeeze the bejesus. Show him who’s boss. And if he’s not willing to submit, then he is not the right material and you should move on without him.
My hubby had become a shadow of the man he once was. Boots & Floggers have refreshed and revived him. He now worships Me like a Goddess. No, wait, let Me rephrase that! He worships Me like the Goddess I am.
Oh yes, I have changed as well.
Lady Jane 


I’m a strong supporter of equality between men and Women, She said soothingly. In education, society, at work, you name it, I support it.
What about equality in marriage, he growled.
It’s an illusion, dearest, and you know it. You say sell – I say buy; you say drive – I say fly; you say spend – I say save; do you know what I mean? We cannot resolve it by majority vote, so someone has to decide. And that someone is Me.
She paused and smiled.
You are like clay in My hands, sweetheart, and you know it. You are weak, I am strong; that’s the long and short of it. And I have the key to your chastity cage. Minor detail.
She giggled and seemed to revel in the beauty and perfection of it.
It’s My duty, She continued, to protect you from doing stupid things. Which is a full-time job, I might add. The chastity cage, the harsh rules and even harsher punishments are all there to keep you out of harms way. They are tokens of My affection.
It’s a brutal way of showing affection, he muttered.
Love hurts, handsome.
We are all born equal, he said with the stubbornness of a child.
Yes … but you’re a man, a fool, a halfwit, a moron, an idiot. You are inferior, I am superior. It’s just a fact of life. So yes, I’m all for equality, darling, as long as I’m in charge.


I was shocked when he told me about his submissive feelings. I thought I knew him through and through and then, in the blink of an eye, my whole life was in turmoil. I felt betrayed, does that make sense? But after many talks (and a lot of wine) I agreed to play the role of Mistress on five consecutive Saturdays. The first three were a complete disaster, because I honestly didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. And his whole demeanour changed, I hated that! He was no longer the man I fell in love with, but someone I’d never seen before! We had agreed not to talk about it during the week: no suggestions, no requests, no advice. Thank God for that, because I was well aware I sucked at this.
And then the anger came. All this nonsense about obedience and doing everything for me! Yeah sure! So on the fourth Saturday I ordered him to clean the bathroom. Once finished, I inspected the work and told him I was not satisfied. I ordered him to do it again. To my astonishment he did; the walls, floor, tiles and shower, as if nothing had happened. So I inspected his work again and sneered: “Do you call this cleaning? Do it again and do it properly this time.” And so he did, without a word of complaint. Christ, he even thanked me for it! And then, surely but slowly, it dawned on me: I didn’t need to worry about his suggestions, his ideas and whether or not he liked it. Who the hell was he in the scheme of things? That’s how it all started.
Mistress Selene


According to many, the relationship between Mistress and slave is based on sexual attraction. She’s in charge, but She also listens to his needs (a daily blowjob for example) and respects his limits. So, at the end of the day, when all is mildly whipped and lovingly slapped, he is the puppet-master and She’s the puppet. Call me a primitive, but I believe in the simple and accurate definition of the word slave: someone who is the property of another person and is forced to work and obey. Come on, She doesn’t need our permission to punish us! And She sure as hell doesn’t need to take our limits into consideration. She can use and abuse us to Her heart’s content. Take our money, and our nuts while She’s at it, put our dick in the nick for months on end, sell us to the highest bidder or donate us to a vivisectionist. And what are we going to do about all this? File a complaint? For what? For being a slave? We chose the path of submission ourselves, no one forced us. So embrace it, regardless of how painful, humiliating, confusing it can be. Regardless of how much we dislike certain things. If you want to be a slave, then act like one. No limits, no restrictions, no rights, no way out. Anything less has nothing to do with slavery.


She is elegant, sophisticated and educated. She drives a pair of horses like a charioteer, is at home on a race course or the deck of a fast yacht. She is a power at the theater or the Opera; and none is more brilliant at a dinner party. She dresses with taste, class and style and stops men in their tracks. When She walks everyone follows, when She speaks everyone listens. And obeys. Her voice is calm, direct and powerful. She never shouts, because showing anger is unladylike, and, more importantly, a sign of weakness. When a Lady loses control over Herself, She will effectively lose control over Her slaves. Women are the upper-class of society, which means that Women should always be an example for their slave. Superiority means high quality leadership and high standards. Always. She can be persuasive and manipulative, a seductive huntress who always gets Her prey. She has enslaved hundreds, if not thousands, of men. It’s not even a challenge, because most men are eager to submit. They accept their submissive position and are proud of it. Women are born to rule, just as men are born to submit. It’s not a choice, it’s a fact of life.


I came this close (look at my fingers) to signing a slave contract. The contract was there, the day was set, the witnesses ready … and then, just forty minutes before the ceremony, the Mistress changed Her mind. I was devastated, like being fucked up the ass by two-thousand short-temperted, all-horny, ready-to-rrrrumble Vikings, but I showed no outward signs of emotion. Because it’s not done, better said: fucking rude, to question a decision of a Lady. So I didn’t ask and She never explained.
Now, a slave contract has no legal binding whatsoever, of course. It’s as worthless as you and me. Because slavery is illegal, even if both parties desire it. Take it to court and you will probably be fined for waisting their time.
Still, I would have given my left toe and my right testicle for a contract like that. Because those meaningless signatures still mean something, you know. Because no self-resprecting slave should, could or would ever walk away from the promises and duties he signed up for in a slave contract. In that respect a slave contract is far more binding than the law wants us to believe.


Karin, do you take this piece of shi- I apologise: do You take this man to be Your lawfully wedded slave, to love, guide, punish and humiliate him as long as You shall live. If so say I do.
I do.
john, do you take this lovely Lady to be your lawfully wedded Mistress, to love, to obey, comfort and honour Her, surrendering yourself to Her alone as long as you shall live. If so say I do, you lucky swine.
I do.
Now Karin! Grab john’s ear and repeat after me.
I Karin take thee, john, to be My loyal servant, My devoted slave and My brainless punchbag, from this day forward, to use and abuse, to whip and to cane, to kick and to slap, till death do us part. I pledge to you My guidance, My cruelty, My short-temperedness and My unstoppable need for Power.
Now john, look up to your Lady Owner and repeat after me.
I john are taken by thee, Karin, to be my Mistress, my Lady Owner and Goddess, to obey and to worship from this day forward, for better for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. I pledge to You my obedience, my loyalty, my patience, all my earthy goods, including the Märklin train-set.
Karin, place and lock the collar around john’s neck and throw away the key.
By the authority given to me by Her Majesty, I now pronounce you man and Wife. You may now whip the groom.


Sex with you is not exactly a Viking invasion, isn’t it? It’s more like having sex with a hamster. Although that’s an insult to hamsters and other rodents. I deserve better. Much better. And bigger. Much bigger. Time to lock your tiny little wiener behind bars and throw away the key. Read My lovely lips: you’re not going to have sex anymore for the rest of your life, and that’s the end of it. Don’t look so worried, you’ll get used to it. Or not. I’m curious what the effects of your long-term chastity will be. Who knows, maybe you will lose the ability to cum, or even better: the ability to get an erection! It’s a small step from a micro dick to impotence, I would say. Anyway, it will be very interesting to see what happens. In that respect you’re not so much a hamster but a lab rat. Every now and then the cage will come off and your penis will be cleaned thoroughly. Ah, I see a glimmer of hope in your eyes. Well, make yourself no illusions, your hands will be cuffed behind your back and the chastity cage will be back in place before you know it. And so, I hereby sentence your shadow of a penis to a lifetime in chastity.


Man, I was such a greenhorn when I met a Mistress for the first time. I believed virtually everything I saw on Internet, so my perception of reality was completely distorted. So naive, so gullible. At the same time I knew, that if I wanted to be taken seriously as a slave, I had to be a gentleman as well. Now, good manners are hard to find these days and never before in history people have been so outspoken, ill-mannered, complacent, demanding, rude and opinionated. Gentlemanlike behaviour is for fools and idiots. But is it? No Lady wants to waste Her time on a piece of Neanderthal or an ill-mannered yokel from Gods knows where. And most importantly: inappropriate behaviour reflects badly on your Mistress, leaving others to think that She does not know how to train a slave.
The good news is: chivalry didn’t die with the dinosaurs. More than that: opening a door for a Lady, being respectful, carrying Her bags, kissing Her hand, helping Her to Her seat, being honest, confident yet humble; all this should be compulsory. Don’t ask yourself if you got what is takes to be a good slave; just pipe down a bit, show some good manners and let your story begin.


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.