Tag Archives: Femdom Mistresses

STINGING NETTLES

After about three quarters of an hour we came to a clearing in the forest. The Ladies told me to take off my clothes, but allowed me to keep my boxers on. They tied me to a tree, because that’s what trees are for. I had to suppress a giggle, because they put on gloves. Gloves? It was sweltering hot outside! But I kept my cool and looked at them like it was the most natural thing in the world. They told me to wait there (very funny) and disappeared among the trees. Ten minutes later they returned with a bunch of stinging nettles, which made my not-a-worry-in-the-world smile melt like a glacier.
Ladies, please, I panicked, these things sting like crazy!
(Which shows there’s nothing going on between my ears.)
They laughed and whacked me across the face. And then the battle of the nettle began. They whipped the bloody things across my arms, my chest and legs. Within seconds my skin started itching and burning. I screamed, but they threatened to stuff nettles in my mouth, so I snapped shut. They pulled my boxers down, dropped one handful- two hands full- three hands full of nettles in the crotch and pulled it up again. Jesus Christ! Like sticking your scrotum in fresh lava! One of the Ladies firmly rubbed Her hand over my Vesuvius (well … ) and I wriggled in misery. They untied me and forced me to run through a huge field of nettles.
Chop, chop, we haven’t got all day! That’s it! And again! Faster, faster!
God, how I longed for the winter!

BORROWED GOODS

He wasn’t thinking (easy), wasn’t talking (difficult), wasn’t paying attention (as usual). So it took a while before he realised that they were looking at him.
… not exactly a carpenter, he heard his Mistress say, give him a box of nails and you have to explain the hammer.
They laughed.
Thanks for letting Me borrow him for two weeks, Lady Rain said with a wicked smile.
BORROW ?!? He was ready to shout, shout and let it all out, but managed to control himself. His eyes were screaming like a heavy metal band and his heart was about to get a ticket for speeding. Please, not Lady Rain! He was terrified of Her! She hated men, hated dicks and She absolutely hated men with dicks. His eyes sought refuge by his Mistress. Surely She would protect him!
You’re more than welcome, dear, She said, do with him as you wish. He’s all yours.
WHAT! He couldn’t believe his ears! This wa-
I’ll try not to damage him, Lady Rain grinned. Well, not too much, anyway.
He couldn’t file a complaint, organise a demonstration, or start a signature campaign. He was simply powerless to do anything about it. And so She took him home. And the cane Rained down on him like a flood of Biblical proportions. No mercy, no quarter, no surrender. She was everything he feared She would be. Only worse. Much worse.

THE MORE THE MERRIER?

The six of us stood there, naked to the dick, waiting for our name to be called. Five veterans and one nervous breakdown. Yeap, that was me alright. I was still such a novice and I had no idea what to expect. Then my name tumbled down the stairs and my heart skipped a beat. I trembled myself up the stairs and kneeled down in front of a whole bunch of Mistresses. Man, it was so intimidating and I desperately tried to hide behind my dick. They asked me about my limits and what my experience level was.
No limits and no experience whatsoever, I answered with a slight tremor in my voice.
They laughed with an appetite and before I knew what was happening, I got swept away in a flood of contracting orders.
Come here, novice, one of them ordered, and kiss My feet.
Where the hell are you going, a second Mistress said, come here so I can have a good look at you.
On your back slave, a third one barked, I’m going to sit on your face.
They played me like the cheapest banjo in the business. Getting angrier with every minute that passed, because in my eagerness to please, I disobeyed them all.
This is certainly not a good start, an Asian Mistress said with a wicked smile, and you’re going to pay dearly for this.
My longest night was about to begin.

BIG MAC

It was a small party, with only five Mistresses and five slaves invited. One by one we went up the stairs (a stairway to Heaven, so to speak), kneeled down in front of the Ladies and introduced ourselves. Nerve-racking, to say the least. The last to come up was Mac (aka Big Mac), a corpulent, florid man from Great Yarmouth. He had years of experience under his belt and he had even served as a 24/7 lifestyle slave.
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.

The words came from deep inside him: ……my…..dick?
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.