Tag Archives: Femdom Past

SUBMISSIVE ORIGINS

I’m confident in the belief that there is truly such a thing as living again,
and that the living spring from the dead
Plato

The ship arrived sometime around 1875 at Castle Garden Immigration Centre, Manhattan, New York. From there I travelled to a small town on the East Coast of the United States, where I found a job as town clerk & surveyor. I never married (somewhat unusual at the time) and I lived on the corner of a long uphill street. I had some money when I arrived, but I trusted people I should not have trusted and all my savings disappeared into someone else’s American dream. This would never have happened if my sisters were still alive. Five formidable Ladies with strong personalities, who raised me after our parents passed away. Their word was law and they made all the decisions for me. I looked up to them, revered them and always, always, always obeyed them without question. Even when I grew older. They made me feel safe and protected and for that alone I would do anything for them. They died in their thirties, one after the other in the space of fourteen months. I came to America in the hope of a new life. But not a day went by that I didn’t miss them. I would sit and stare at their portraits for hours, longing for their guidance. I felt vulnerable, insecure and weak without them. So, who knows, perhaps this mysterious desire to obey Women originated not in this- but in my past life.
Past Life Regression Session – July 2018

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)

ALL IN THE FAMILY

I did (and still do) lots and lots of family research to find out more about my ancestors. Some were successful and quite wealthy, others ended up in the workhouse. Some lived a long life, many others died young. Some were sentenced to jail (for petty theft mostly), one was flogged and died in prison and one of my ancestors was hanged for murder in February 1803. Some received the Yad Vashem title of “Righteous Among the Nations” for helping Jewish families during WW2, several family members died in Nazi concentration camps, while someone else in the family was sentenced to jail by a war tribunal for collaborating with the Nazis. One brother joined Napoleon’s Grand Armée and died during Napoleon’s catastrophic invasion of Russia; while the other brother fought against Napoleon at Waterloo. Many of them were born, got married and died in the same village, others crossed the Atlantic Ocean and found a new home in America. A view of my ancestors became locally famous, others nationally, and at least one of them became world famous: Mata Hari. It’s such an honour to be related to Her, it really is. I often wonder, as I go through the stories of my ancestors, if somewhere, somehow, Female Domination played a (tiny) role in their life as well. Because who knows, maybe I’m not the first to embrace the superiority of Women. Maybe it’s all in the family.

BIRCHING

Foreigners in the past were amazed by the English addiction to flagellation. Mrs. Colet ran a famous whipping establishment (established about 1766) in Convent Garden for example and Mrs. Berkely (died in 1836) had one in Charlotte Street. The latter even designed the Berkley Horse (in 1828), an apparatus to flog gentlemen upon. [.] Her instruments of torture were more numerous than those of any other Governess. Her supply of birch was extensive, and kept in water, so that it was always green and pliant: she had shafts with a dozen whip thongs on each of them; a dozen different sizes of cat-o’-nine-tails, some with needle points worked into them; various kinds of thin bending canes; leather straps like coach traces; battledoors, made of thick sole-leather, with inch nails run through to docket, and currycomb tough hides rendered callous by many years flagellation. Holly brushes, furze brushes; a prickly evergreen, called butcher’s bush; and during the summer, a glass and China vases, filled with a constant supply of green nettles, with which she often restored the dead to life. Thus, at her shop, whoever went with plenty of money, could be birched, whipped, fustigated, scourged, needle-pricked, half-hung, holly-brushed, furze-brushed, butcher-brushed, stinging-nettled, curry-combed, phlebotomized, and tortured.