Tag Archives: Femdom Thrashing

THE CARPET BEATER

She wanted Her husband (aka Her slave) to turn the dilapidated barn into a luxurious guest house. To be honest, it would have been easier to turn a shopping cart into a Rolls Royce, but, as always, he had no saying in this. She was in charge and had him by the balls. Figuratively and, quite often, literally. So he did what he’d always done: he obeyed and worked his ass off. The barn was smelly, dirty, dusty and filled with spider webs and by the end of each day he’d gathered more dust than a broom in its heyday. But She, always the practical one, had just the solution for that: an old fashioned carpet beater! Handwoven and made from strong rattan reed. Yes, it’s scary sometimes with the things these Women come up with. Anyways, at the end of a hard days work, She would beat the crap out of him with that thing. Not because She wanted to punish him, but because She wanted to dust him thoroughly, meticulously, exhaustively, rigorously, methodically, painstakingly. After that She would hose him down in the backyard with the garden hose. Because he was not going to contaminate the shower with all sorts of creepy bacteria. No, sir! Not on Her watch!
Man, isn’t She one in a million?

WE WANT MORE

My hands were chained above my head, with my toes barely touching the ground. This was only my third week in slavery and I was still as green as grass. I didn’t even know the difference between a paddle and poodle, for God’s sake.
Anyways, my nipples were clamped and weighted and my balls were tied tightly. Both Mistresses yanked the chain on the nipple clamps from time to time and kicked, squeezed and kneed my poor balls. And to make matters worse:¬†they whipped me endlessly & mercilessly with a vicious cat-‘o-nine-tails and an unforgiving bullwhip. I suffered beyond belief, I really did. I tried to endure the pain as long as possible, but everyone has a breaking point. Mine came with the high-C of misery.
What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?
The blonde Mistress sounded not amused. I may have been a rookie, but I instinctively knew I was on thin ice now. I could hear it cracking and shifting beneath my feet.
Yes, Mistress, I do, I do.
So?
Thank You Mistress, thank You for the punishment.
Do you want more?
(Nooooooooo! Stop! Enough = enough!! Read my lips: no, No, NO!!!)
Yes Mistres, please, I squeaked.
They laughed.
Good boy, big liar, the dark-haired Mistress said.
Always be ready for more, even if you can’t take no more, that’s my painful advice.

BASHING & THRASHING

All that bashing & thrashing, wipping & caning; is that really necessary? And the short answer to that is: yes. Because boys will be boys, men will be men and all that kinda stuff. You see, men are like water: they follow the path of least resistance. In other words: even the most dedicated slave has a tendency to laziness and cuts corners whenever possible. So bashing his brains in every once in a while is a wakeup call and an act of kindness. And you know what they say about a punishment: it’s not a real punishment until you’re crying real tears. Still, it’s necessary, because you have to know (and feel) what will happen to you if you cross the line or don’t follow Her orders. Being Her sub is all about obedience, respect and fear, my friend. Fear for Her wrath is motivator, a inspiration, a medicine for laziness and a cure for sloppiness.