Pauline was a great looking Girl: blond, smooth skin, perky breasts, a gorgeous smile and not an inch of fat on Her body. I met Her at a birthday party, where She beat everyone who challenged Her to an arm-wrestling match. Boys, Girls, men and Women; She crushed them all. Which was bizarre, because Her body didn’t do biceps, if you know what I mean. I honestly thought it was a prank, some sort of hidden camera shit, or something like that. But in the end I could not restrain myself and decided to challenge Her and teach Her a lesson. I started aggressively and went full throttle immediately, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. She didn’t flinch and Her face was as calm as a pond on a windless day. My arm began to hurt and the strength melted away. And then it was all over. My hand smashed on the table with a powerful bang and everyone cheered. I was flabbergasted and immediately agreed to do the other arm. Well, we all make mistakes and mine lasted less than a second. It was Go-Baff-Over, only much faster. I had the honour of meeting Her several times after that and had at least ten rematches against Her. I didn’t stand a change and the result was always the same.
♬ All you need is Gloves (rata-dadada)
All you need is Gloves (rata-dadada)
All you need is Gloves, Gloves
Gloves is all you need ♬
Hats (for men) and gloves (for Women) are out of fashion nowadays. Yeah, yeah, I know, what about mittens, right? Well, fuck mittens, because that’s like saying thermal underwear is the same as lingerie. Sadly enough the real deal gloves are not part of a Lady’s everyday wardrobe anymore. And that’s a real shame, because a Woman with gloves is a masterpiece in itself, I would say. Gloves are elegant, sexy, mesmerising, sensual and intimidating at the same time. I recall my aunt Rebecca wearing gloves. The soft, leather gloves adapted perfectly to the shape of Her hand and it was impossible to take my eyes off them. I was not the easiest kid in the world (to put it mildly), but aunt Rebecca made me eat out of Her (gloved) hand. It did not go unnoticed in the family and I was teased and made fun of. I didn’t care a bit, because everyone now looked up to Her. She had control over me and was praised for it, how awesome was that!
I don’t know how you do it, Rebecca, my mother sighed, he’s as gentle as a lamb with you. You must have magical powers.
I smiled inside, because my aunt didn’t have magical powers, of course. She had gloves.
Anyways, my nipples were clamped and weighted and my balls were tied tightly. Both Mistresses yanked the chain on the nipple clamps from time to time and kicked, squeezed and kneed my poor balls. And to make matters worse: they whipped me endlessly & mercilessly with a vicious cat-‘o-nine-tails and an unforgiving bullwhip. I suffered beyond belief, I really did. I tried to endure the pain as long as possible, but everyone has a breaking point. Mine came with the high-C of misery.
What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?
The blonde Mistress sounded not amused. I may have been a rookie, but I instinctively knew I was on thin ice now. I could hear it cracking and shifting beneath my feet.
Yes, Mistress, I do, I do.
Thank You Mistress, thank You for the punishment.
Do you want more?
(Nooooooooo! Stop! Enough = enough!! Read my lips: no, No, NO!!!)
Yes Mistres, please, I squeaked.
Good boy, big liar, the dark-haired Mistress said.
Always be ready for more, even if you can’t take no more, that’s my painful advice.
What’s yours = Mine, She snapped. Which part you didn’t understand?
I … I don’t understand, Mistress, I said bewildered.
She slapped me brutally hard and my ears were ringing like church bells on a Sunday morning.
Do you think this is funny? She grumbled.
She kneed my balls against the ceiling and my scrotum exploded in pain.
You bought that goddamn thing with MY money!! What’s yours ……
Aaaah …… I said with an Eureka! look on my face, because only then did it dawn on me.
She grabbed my ear and tried to pull it off my head.
Ah, indeed!! You need My permission before you spend any money. Do you understand?
She ignored me for days after that, which was more painful than a beating. But I learned my lesson and never wasted my = Her money again.
Tying someone up is not that easy, I said.
Nonsense! Give Me that rope.
That was Paula. Beautiful Paula with Her gorgeous, breathtaking, hypnotising legs. Not today though; She was wearing jeans. Damn you bloody jeans! Anyway, I quickly volunteered and She began to tie me up; ankles and wrists, upper arms- and legs and then She fastened my wrists and ankles together behind my back. It was sensational, like bathing in hot lava. I wriggled like a snotty eel, but the more I struggled, the tighter the rope seemed to get. Which caused some serious leakage between my legs, I must say. That was somewhat alarming, because I was twelve years old at the time, and certainly not ready yet to come out of the submissive closet. Not with a Biblical flood between my legs. So I stayed on my stomach and struggled for a long, long time. To no avail.
You win, Paula, I sighed.
Of course I win!
Shall I untie him? Marianne asked.
No, let’s get some ice-scream first. And you (pointing at Mark) don’t move a muscle. Understood?
Yes Paula, he squeaked cowardly.
And so She left me there to dry. Which was impossible, because my trousers were soaking wet. Again I struggled ferociously, but it was impossible to escape. Paula sure as hell knew the ropes.
Let me see if I understand it correctly ….. so this (She pushed down on my shoulder) hurts?
I screamed the birds away.
Not this (She stroke my head), but this (push)?
The pain vibrated through my entire body and I howled in agony.
Mmm, this is so comfortable, don’t you think?
Yes Selma, I squeaked, it is.
You’re such a liar.
No, Selma, no, I swear. As long as you do-
…… don’t do this (push)?
I nearly fainted from pain. A few minutes later She stuffed a hectare of grass in my mouth and made me swallow it. She also forced me to apologise to the birds for making such a racket. Our relationship lasted only two years. A few months after She left, I decided to come out of the submissive closet. Telling my friends and family about my submissive feelings was a brave thing to do, but I should’ve opened my heart to Selma. Not after She’d left, but on that beautiful day in the Amsterdam Forest.
Well, well, She said, looking at Frank, there you are. Are you hiding from Me, you piece o-
Frank ran like a chicken, but She was much faster. She grabbed his fingers and twisted them like a wet towel. She pushed him down on the ground and put Her foot on his neck.
Harry ran at Her, like an amateur knight without a horse. Or sword. She grabbed his hair and brought him down to his knees in one fell swoop. I stood frozen to the ground, trying to take it all in. Frank lay motionless on his belly and Harry was on his knees, begging Her to spare his scalp. She looked at me.
Do you want some as well?
I shook my head.
Alright then. Go over there and stand with your nose against the wall.
I could have made a run for it, but the gravitational pull of Her power was stronger than my fear. So I obeyed. Minutes later Frank and Harry’s noses joined me.
Look at you, She chuckled, so pathetic. Huey, Dewey and Louie! Stay there and don’t turn around. I warn you!
I don’t know how long we stood there, but at least half an hour. When I finally had the nerve to look, She was long gone. So I couldn’t ask Her to marry me.
I’m sure you did all kinds of things for your Mistress and fulfilled many tasks, one of the Ladies said. Can you name something you’re particularly proud of?
Big Mac looked bewildered, like a rabbit in the headlights. His mouth moved, but there was no sound. I always get very nervous in situations like this, so I began to sweat all over.
Come on, slave, the Lady said encouragingly, just name one thing you’re proud of.
Silence fell like a ton of bricks. And then a nervous giggle escaped me; it flew from my lips like a tweeting bird. All eyes turned to me and my giggle died a sudden death. If looks could kill, I would be living in an urn right now. They said nothing, but boy, I dearly paid for it later that evening. So whatever happens, do not, I repeat do NOT giggle.
You told us your husband was your slave!
She laughed and rolled Her eyes.
In a manner of speaking, you idiot! Mistresses and slaves? Come on, grow up!
Well, talking about a straight knock-out! But the worst was yet to come, because one day She told me about Sylvia’s new boyfriend. He turned out to be submissive as well and he’d asked Sylvia to be his Mistress. She was willing to try and it was Sylvia, who turned out to be a natural born dominant!! That guy is now Her 24/7 slave.
True story. True bummer.
She grabbed me by the balls and twisted them viciously. Like sticking your nuts in a mixer.
Selma-ah-ah-aa. I danced up and down like a frog on a hot plate.
Next time you’ll do as you’re told, won’t you?
Yes, yes, I give you my wo-aaa-ord.
She squeezed even harder and my voice reached the high C. She was more deadly than a demolition squad, no question about it.
Don’t let it happen again, She hissed.
She let go of my balls. I fell down on my knees and sobbed in pain.
My ancestors turned in their graves.
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.
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.
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.
I didn’t believe him at first and told him to leave me alone. But then he started begging me, and I mean really begging me. So in the end I removed the bubblegum from my mouth and gave it to him. He took it in his mouth and his eyes lit up with excitement. ‘This is so delicious, I can taste you now’, he shivered. And so he became addicted, which made him persistent, pathetic and vulnerable at the same time. He became like wax in my hands; I made him follow me around the schoolyard like a puppy, spat in his mouth and made him pay for the gum. The grand finale was when I told him to kneel down in front of me while the girls of my class were watching. They ridiculed and mocked him, pushed him and slapped him on the back of his head. He didn’t budge. I ignored him for the most part and he just sat there, with his forehead touching my hand. A couple of times I told him to open wide and I leaned over with the gum between my teeth. His eyes were begging Me, but then I started chewing again. The girls all laughed. So many years ago, but I remember it as if it happened only yesterday.
I’ve always been fortunate enough to meet the right Girls at the right time. And these Girls, unintentionally perhaps, influenced my submissive life greatly. Sue was the first. She was always a bit edgy and short-tempered. An active volcano, one might say: always ready to rumble and smother you with molten lava. We had no idea where Her anger came from, but when it came, it came with brutal force. She fought ferociously, and boys, including older boys, ran with the tail between their legs. And rightfully so, because Sue didn’t just twist your arm; She dislocated your shoulder. I was the tallest boy in the neighbourhood and therefore hard to beat. Still She won half the time, not because I lost deliberately or anything, absolutely not. There was really no need for that; one moment of slackness and She would kick your ass. The pinnacle of humiliation was (and still is) the Schoolgirl-Pin: sitting on top of Her victims, pinning them down to the ground. Sometimes She would force you to submit over and over again, smothering you with Her hands or stuffing grass into your mouth. Oh, beautiful, unforgettable days!
In the end we lost track of each other, because that’s how life works sometimes. So here’s to Sue and the unparalleled beauty of the Schoolgirl-Pin.