Tag Archives: Femdom Memories

THE NOTE

The bell rang and the hallways filled with chatter and laughter. I grabbed my jacket off the hook and took a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket. There was a piece of paper stuck to the box that read: I want to be Your slave.
WTF!! Was this a prank or something?? I looked around and over my shoulder, in the hope that the perpetrator was watching. Why on earth would anyone want to be my slave? What did it even mean?? But there was no name on it, so I decided to ignore it. Which was easier said than done, because the more I tried not to think about it, the more I did. Did Michael write it? Bobby perhaps? Or was it William the creep?”
I went home with an headache and blamed, needless to say, my parents for that. I went to bed early and forced myself to think of something else. I had just closed my eyes to go to sleep when a thought hit me like a bolt of lightning: Did one of the girls write it perhaps?? Stephany? Or Claire? Or was it Ingrid, who could not stop staring at me?
I pounded my fists on the bed in frustration. I hated this! If they had something to say to me, then why not just say it! Whoever wrote this note, needed a severe spanking. And I was more than be happy to administer it! Far away, in a remote corner of my soul, a seed called FemDom opened up and began to grow.
Mistress Charlotte

FINAL THOUGHTS

All I ever wanted in life was a serious relationship with a lifestyle Mistress. I honestly thought it would be easy to find someone like that, I really did. Men had a reputation of being self-centred (especially in bed), being ill mannered and for cheating and lying all the time. I was and did none of that, I just wanted to serve and obey. It should have been easy. But it was not. Because for every genuine Mistress there were at least three hundred slaves. If not more. Still, I met, served and obeyed some of these wonderful Ladies. Not as a lover or a boyfriend, but as one of many slaves and admirers. Sure, I always hoped for more, but a the same time I got much more than I deserved. I’m grateful for everything and if I could do my life over again, I would do it exactly the same way. Because I was what I was and I couldn’t go without. Finding a real-deal Mistress is much harder nowadays, because the fundamental ideas, values and principles of Female Domination are melting faster than the glaciers. Femdom has become a soap, a weird comedy in which the slaves have more class, style and intelligence than the Women who are supposed to lead them. I know, you probably think that I’m a sorry old fool who thinks that everything was better in the past. Well, some things were, some things not. Femdom was. So save it, before it’s too late.
Frank V. (March 1934-August 2021)

THE PRICE OF A TICKET

It was a Sunday afternoon and I was on my way to the local cinema to watch a Female Vampire movie. Erection guaranteed! I took a short cut through the woods and reached the pedestrian bridge half an hour later. Three Girls were standing right in front of the bridge, blocking the path.
I’m going to the cinema, I said, hoping that would open the gates of Sesame.
This is a tollbooth, one of them said, you’ll need to pay in order to pass.
Nuh-uh, I said firmly. I have just enough money to buy a ticket.
Do the math, kid. There are three of us and you are alone. We could strip you and send you home naked … or tie you to a tree and leave you there for the night. Is that what you want?
In hindsight it sounded fan-tas-tic, but I was still a bit young for that, so I shook my head.
Alright then, give me the money.
I protested vigorously as they closed upon me. They were older, faster, stronger, so what could I do? Tears welled up in my eyes as I gave in and handed over the money.
Here, She said, I give you 50 cents to buy an ice scream.
She stepped aside so I could pass.
It’s not fair, I sobbed.
Hey kiddo.
I turned around.
You will remember this for the rest of your life. Trust Me, that’s worth more than a cinema ticket.
Turned out She was right.

A PATCH OF GRASS

I can clearly remember the sunlight filtering through the leaves and the smell of freshly cut grass. But I can also remember a feeling of fear and panic, because Karin scissored me with Her legs. This was not the first time, certainly not, but it was by far the worst time. Because She was livid and squeezed the bejesus out of me. The pain was excruciating and something popped in my neck, I’m sure of that. I screamed like a pig.
Don’t move and shut your mouth, She growled.
I obeyed immediately and She loosened up a bit. She was waiting for Lisa, who was chasing after Robin. I honestly can’t remember what we’d done wrong, but it must have been something pretty awful. We waited for about ten minutes for Lisa to return.
Sorry Karin, he got away, Lisa said. She grinned and looked down on me: I see you had more luck.
She kicked me against my back.
Karin is stronger than me, I screamed in panic.
That made them double up with laughter. But Karin’s anger wasn’t over yet. She tightened Her grip a bit, terrifying me almost into a fit.
Did I tell you to speak?
N-o-o-o-o-o, I yelped.
It’s just a small patch of grass underneath a tree. But to me it’s much more than that. Because in spite of the humiliation- or should I say: because of the humiliation- every inch of it is engraved in my memory.