Tag Archives: Femdom Humiliation

HAVE A SEAT

Some of these male creatures actually enjoy being punished. So a merciless bare bottom thrashing can either be a treat or a torture. Absolutely ridiculous and unacceptable. Sinners should be punished, not rewarded. So we looked to the past for inspiration and what we found was simple and effective: the stool of repentance. It’s a high, four-legged, backless chair that will topple over if you do not sit completely upright. It’s meant to publicly shame and humiliate any who refuses to submit to Female rule and authority. At Liverpool, on May 16th, a rebellious slave was sentenced as followed: that he should sit in sackcloth, barefooted and barelegged, at the marketplace, on the repentance stool, from sunrise to sunset, during six consecutive Fridays. The stool of repentance can also be used to subdue the lying and seditious tongues of slaves. In Newport, on December 29th, a slave was sentenced for being untruthful and conduct unbecoming. He was condemned to sitting upon the stool of repentance, in the coldest of winters, during eight consecutive market days. Male creatures are famed for their arrogance, ignorance, short-sightedness, stubbornness and stupidity, which means the stool of repentance will be a hot seat for decades to come.
July 2107, Lady Laura – Have A Seat

FEMME FATALE

Sasha started working for us on a Monday morning and Her desk was opposite mine. She was beautiful in a mysterious way and there was definitely something dangerous lurking behind Her smile. Then we shook hands and I literally fell in love with Her in a matter of seconds. It felt like being pushed off a cliff, it really did. I think She knew, there and then, what a weakling I was and how easy it would be to make me dance to Her tune. She didn’t hesitate and within hours She had me on a short leash. She knew exactly what to say to push my buttons and it was impossible to refuse Her anything. If I tried She would pout and make me feel guilty. I worked late to finish Her work, lied for Her, bought Her clothes and paid Her rent. I even fumbled with Her assessments so She would get a raise.
Sometimes She humiliated me, be it in a playful way, in front of our colleagues. Asking me if I would do anything for Her. Telling them I was such an obedient boy.
She quit Her job within a year. I felt gutted, but luckily it didn’t mean the end of our friendship. At least that’s what I thought. But on Her last day of work She looked at me with cold eyes and said: Before you ask, I’m not interested in keeping in touch with you. You are boring. 
All this happened many years ago, but I still remember the smell of Her perfume, still hear the echoes of Her voice. In case you’re wondering if you ever met a Femme Fatale; trust me, you would know. Because you’ll never forget.

FEMDOM PILLORY

The “Fem Dommes Only” party takes place in June each year. We had no idea what was going on in there, because no men were allowed inside, not even eunuchs. So, was it some sort of danceparty? A kinky party with blindfolded male strippers perhaps? Or just another Totally Tupperware party? We had no clue. A reporter of the New York Days disguised himself as a Woman in order to infiltrate. He’s not been heard of since. So I was absolutely flabbergasted when Milady ordered me to join Her on the opening day! Oh, I was so exited! She had me collared and leashed and dragged me through a crowd of Women. Which was terribly intimidating, because they all glared at me as if they were about to eat me alive.
Then the tumult of a hundred different cries, all shouting at the top of their voices. Rotten tomatoes, get your toma-throws, roared a brunette. Ding, Dong, Fresh Dung, get your bucket full, called another. Spit-on-the-Spot, only tuppence, shouted a blonde Lady. Pee-n-a-Bottle, get your pee-ee-ee, bellowed one. Pick ’em out cheap here! Stinking eggs, shouted a Lady to Her utmost. Milady put me in a pillory and grabbed a microphone. Well Ladies, here he is: the future has arrived. This creature will be on display for the next three days. Let’s show him what a “Fem Dommes Only” party is all about, shall we?”
June 2071 – Party Perils – ISBN 2-67923-118564

THE LEASH

The collar was there, all it needed was a leash. Because a collar without a leash is like a clamp without a nipple, a strap-on without an anus, a boot without a heel, a kick without a groin, a prison without a cell. It took a while though, but then, one glorious day, She clicked the leash onto his collar. Suddenly She was bathed in light and shone more brilliantly than the sun. She slapped him in the face and destroyed the beautiful apparition in the process. The Bitch. Still, it was an unforgetabble moment, because to him a leash was like a umbilical cord that connected a lowlife piece of shit like himself to the divine beauty and power of a Lady. It was pure magic, as far as he was concerned.
She took him to a Fetish Party and ordered him on all fours. I don’t want any pressure on the leash, She said. Her voice send legions of shivers down his spine and he almost got misty eyed. No pressure on the leash was easier said than done though, because he had to crawl through a forest of legs. Mistress was not pleased with his performance and She beat him black, blue and purple. Still, he loved every second of it. This happened at least a year ago and She never used the leash ever since. But he does not despair. Because he knows that someday, somewhere, somehow he will be re-leashed.

THE SPITTOON

I’m on my knees beside the sink. She squeezes toothpaste on Her brush and glances down at me.
Tingling-fresh! Ice-fresh! She says with a sales-pitched voice. This toothpaste is actively caring for My teeth and gums!
I have no idea what She’s talking about: I’m sorr-
She slaps me once, twice, thrice with the back of Her hand.
You’re a spittoon and spittoons don’t talk!
Jesus, my head is spinning and my jaw hurts like the dickens. She starts to brush, moving the toothbrush in tiny circles over Her teeth. My dick and I look up to Her in quiet admiration.
Anyway, She says through the foam, this toothpaste means sparkling whiteness for My teeth.
She leans over and spits in my mouth.
Now, that’s a gorgeous mix of saliva and toothpaste, I hope you appreciate that.
Thank Y-
She slaps me again, only harder this time. Much harder. The fillings rattle in my teeth.
One more word from you, spittoon, and you’ll end up in the garbage truck!
I keep my mouth shut and open.
Let’s not forget the gums, She says, as She continues to brush Her teeth, because for the gums this tingling-freshness means even more!
She spits the toothpaste right into my mouth again.
Isn’t it ice-fresh in your throat right now, slave?
Yes, M-
She almost decapitates me with a vicious slap. The bathroom heels to starboard.
You did it again, didn’t you, spittoon!

PUBLIC HUMILIATION

Public humiliations were initially intended to embarrass the naughty ones, not to arouse them. Wrongdoers were tied to a cart and dragged through the streets, had to sit on the repentance stool for a number of Sundays (sometimes with a paper mitre on their head) or ended up in the pillory. Compared to that, going down on your knees in public before your Mistress, is just kid-stuff, wouldn’t you say? I was collared, leashed and paraded through the streets of Paris, wore a slave collar and a T-shirt saying i am a 24/7 slave, in a restaurant in Rome, had to kiss a Lady’s boot on the world famous zebra crossing on Abbey Road, London, was on all fours in Amsterdam with a Mistress sitting on my back, was slapped in the face repeatedly on the Old Town Square in Prague and kneed in the nuts at the airport. One day a Madame took me to a very busy shop and told me to wait at the entrance. Then, after twenty minutes or so, She grabbed me by the ear, dragged me to the shop counter and ordered me (loud and clear) to get my wallet out and pay for Her stuff. All this was meant to humiliate me, but to me these were moments of intense beauty. Because there’s no shame in being a slave. On the contrary: it fills me with enormous pride.

CORNER TIME

My friendship with Monique goes back a long time and She knew everything about my submissive feelings. It wasn’t Her thing, but She was always very supportive and attentive. Bless Her! One day I told Her about a Female colleague of mine and I said something horrible. It wasn’t naughty or cheeky, it was downright rude and hurtful.
And you call yourself a slave, Monique said.
I admit I was a bit taken back by Her words. I sat there looking stupid for a while, but then I realised She was right.
I apologise, I don’t know what got in to me.
You can be such a jerk sometimes, do you know that? Submissive, pfff. Whenever it suits you, I would say.  It pisses me off. So, go and stand in the corner over there where I can observe you.
I wasn’t sure if She was pulling my leg, but I did what I was told.
Nose against the wall, hands on your head. I don’t want to hear your voice and I don’t want to hear you breathe. 
Her voice was right behind me and I shivered uncontrollably. I stood there for hours and my arms started to ache pretty badly. It was late in the evening when She told to go home.
We will not speak about this again, She said. I’m not your Mistress, nor do I want to be. But from now on you will speak with respect about Women. 
You see? There’s so much more to Dominance & submission than slaps, whips and canes.

THE FINGER

Believe it or not, but the middle finger is some 2500 years old. No, no, no, I’m not talking about your middle finger, you empty vase, I’m talking about the insulting hand gesture. The go fuck yourself and up yours gesture, do you know what I mean? Anyways, the ancient Greek used it and it was used in ancient Rome as well. And even back then it was used to insult people. You are thrown into this arena to be devoured by hungry lions, Emperor Nero said to the convicted man. The human snack looked at the emperor with disdain, gave him the finger and said: Fuck you, Nero. 
Anyone with even the slightest brain activity knows it’s rude to give someone the finger, and most people will be offended by it. Not male slaves though, because men and brains don’t go well together. And as far as he’s concerned You don’t even have to say anything; this non-verbal gesture says it all. It says he’s worthless to You, just another piece of shit with a tiny little dick, a big-time loser and a complete waste of time, space and energy. He loves all that and gets a boner. Your middle finger, one might say, is his early Christmas present.
So don’t overdue it, don’t hand out fingers as if You’re Robina Hood. Because your spoiling him rotten. Use Your finger wisely, that’s all I’m saying.

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!

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.