Tag Archives: Femdom Party

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.

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.

HIP-HIP HOORAY

Her wardrobe was bigger than Long Island and She had more BDSM equipment than a Fetish store. So he wanted to give Her something different for Her birthday. He asked Her sister for advice and She suggested …….. a bullwhip. Blimey!
So he bought Her a 10ft long, dark-red/black handcrafted bullwhip. It was a beauty and the birthday Mistress was very pleased with it.  
End of story? Not so much, because an hour or so later She grabbed him by the ear, dragged him into Her dungeon and strapped him to the St. Andrews-cross.
Let’s try this new baby, She said with a devilish grin.
The first lash cracked his back. The pain was intense and worse than he remembered. He tried to brace himself for the next one, but the whip bit him even harder. The speed intensified, as did the pain. She was thrilled, because She loved to hear Her victims suffer. She ordered him to sing Her a birthday song, while She tried to whip him in half.
Happy birthday to You, happy birthday to You, he sang.
Louder! The whip cracked.
Happy birthday, dear Mistress, happy birthday to You-oe-oe-oe!
His back was raw and sore for days. You see? He should have brought Her a box of chocolates.

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.