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Thursday, November 27th 2014

My day in court (and in the cells)

My day in court (and in the cells)
Here's a nice fantasy story about breath play. Maybe we can make it a reality?

The prisoner was brought to me by one of my faithful female guards
Mistress Serena. He was a miserable wretch accused of defacing a
poster of Mistress in the town square. In a country where my rule is
law, most of the opposition to
my presidential leadership has been quashed or more accurately,
crushed. But there are always one of two miscreants who think that the
authority of the Mistress may be questioned.

The prisoner, dressed in roughly woven striped prison clothes –
actually a thin cloak under which he was naked – was brought manacled
into the courtroom. I sat on the high judge’s chair dressed in my
legal finery – rich red robes and wig, above my head a large portrait
of the power in the land: me.

The charges against the criminal (for so he was) were read out –
“Defacing the image of our wise and cruel leader, the Mistress.” The
punishment for this offence was no less severe than all the others
listed in the criminal code dreamt up by your Mistress. In my world,
there is no such thing as a ‘lenient sentence’. My subjects know that
my authority is supreme, my wishes are to be obeyed.

The prisoner was not asked to enter a plea of guilty or not – in my
courts, those brought before it are assumed to have committed the
crime and so he was tightly gagged. Not only were his feet manacled by
heavy clanking chains but his hands were tightly clamped behind his
back by a pair of savage handcuffs which cut into his skin. Every
movement in this courtroom was painful for him; but not as painful as
the experience to come.

Without delay I pronounced sentence: guilty, of course, but the
punishment was up to the discretion of the Mistress. I noticed that
the man, quite young, had a rather defiant look on his face and so
decided on a more severe form of punishment: a session in the breath
punishment room.

The breath punishment room is actually poorly named: it should be
called rather
the ‘lack of breath room.’ It is a damp, cold stony cell in the
basement of my private palace. The furniture in the breath room is
basic: a stone slab lit by a bare light bulb. The slab was equipped
with straps and belts for tying a prisoner down.

The guilty man was duly frog marched in chains to the breath room. I
personally wanted to be there when he arrived to enjoy the look of
cold fear on his face when he first gazed upon the chamber.

I had dressed for the punishment session: a tight black leather
sleeveless tunic, black stockings and jack boots. I wore the military
cap of my army’s uniform – an unnerving combination of Nazi and Soviet
army officer. My hands were covered with calf leather gloves – very
soft thus allowing me free play with my nimble fingers on his
soon-to-be prostrate body.

Mistress Serena roughly threw him on the slab and held him down while I
fastened the straps and buckles around his neck, chest and legs. He
was, naturally, completely naked and I began the session by placing a
wooden block, not unlike a chopping board, underneath his balls.

Though still gagged, I could tell that his pleading eyes were begging
me for mercy and to explain what was happening to him. I did decide in
my usual soft voice to explain carefully what his punishment would
entail.

“This wooden block under your balls is to help you keep very still
during the punishment. I don’t want any wriggling when I administer
the torture and so I am going to make sure by nailing your testicles
to the board.”

He swallowed hard and seemed to plead for me to desist – but of course
I would not. Spoil my fun? Not a chance. And so I produced a couple of
sharp nails and pulling the folds of skins around his balls tight,
hammered them into the wooden board. Not even his tight gag could hold
back what can only be described as a howl of pain and anguish. I
smiled – just the effect I had wanted.

Thus pinioned, my guilty man was ready for his punishment. I showed
him the dreaded re-breathing unit – a tight mask that would cover his
nose and mouth. Air was fed through a tube attached to a hand pump –
the sort you might use to blow up an airbed.

“The air you breath can only now come in through this tube and mask.
It will only do this when I inflate the pump.” I did this to show him
how it worked. “But the moment I stop squeezing the pump, your air
will stop. And it will feel like this.”

As my hand left the pump, oxygen to the man’s lungs was cut off. He
tried to writhe and gasp for air but of course every movement put
extra pressure on his nailed down balls. I found this very funny and
threw my head back in laughter. Of course, as soon as I suspected he
was about to pass out, I reflated the pump and his air came back.

“I am now going to leave the cell for pee. You will have no air while
I am out and for your sake, let’s hope I can piss fast.”

With that I left the creature on his own fighting for breath so hard
that he somehow managed to dislodge one of the nails from the board.

Luckily for him I came back in time to let more air into his lungs
just as he seemed ready to pass out and probably pass on.

“Did you enjoy me being out of the room eh? Or did you wish nothing
more than to see your Mistress’ face again?” He nodded. “Then why the
fuck did you deface my portrait? This face means life or death. Which
are you going to choose?” As I uttered these words I stopped the pump
and started to leave the cell. I could hear him begging me to stay
even through his tight mouth gag.

This is how our session continued – for at least four hours. Each time
I took him to the brink. Each time he wished no more than his
Mistress was beside him offering her most precious gift- the gift of air.

Thursday, October 27th 2011

ICED AND TORTURED PART TWO

My slave was ready for more action. So I led him to my garden where I made him lay on his front. I barked orders at him like a cruel sergeant major – “Right, miserable little man, ten push ups…now! Fast!” He did as he was told but of course, not fast or high enough. So this time I put some weights on his back and used by boot to make his push up a little more challenging. I ordered him to do another ten but after eight he collapsed in exhaustion. I laughed at him calling him a ‘skinny whimp’ and ‘no kind of a real man’. Then I took the weights off and turned him round roughly. I then stood astride his body – he must have got a good look up my booted legs to my naked pussy. If he did grab a look at my sacred mound, it didn’t’ last long as I unleashed a stream of piss right over his pathetic face. It felt so good to have that slave cowering and suffering the humiliation of being pissed on by his mistress. I ordered him to lick up every drop – which he did, or tried to do. Of course, he didn’t do well enough so I grabbed him by the hair to a standing position and then set about his cock with my electric cattle prod. He screamed liked a pig – but I just laughed. “I can’t have a smelly sub in my garden – you will have to be showered again,” I taunted. He whimpered knowing too well what was coming next – more iced water. He was like a cold drowned rat by the time I’d finished with him. He begged me to let him dry himself – so I relented. But I had a new way of drying – I got my whip and made him run round and round the garden. He didn’t go fast enough so I put a collar on him and attached a long pony rein. Now I had control over how fast he should go and I whipped him like an old-fashioned circus animal. He sped round so fast that within a few minutes he was not only dry but starting to get wet with sweat. I didn’t tolerate this and so, yes you’ve guessed it, another dowsing with icy water. My little pony boy was clean again. But I hadn’t finished with this garden experience. I felt that his arse needed a little punishment so after giving it a few more strokes with the whip, I put on my strap on and fucked him for at least half an hour. By the time I was done, he was no more than a pathetic little worm. I did feel that he needed a little reward – I noticed that his little cock was getting hard. So, graciously, I allowed him to cum on my boots. He did so and of course, I insisted that he lick off every drop with his tongue. A very enjoyable day.

PS DON'T FORGET TO READ MY HOT STORIES

Wednesday, October 12th 2011

ICED AND TORTURED PART ONE

I had a great session the other day with a sub who told me that I could do whatever I wanted with him. What an offer! One that this domme cannot refuse. I liked my lips in anticipation. I managed to quell my excitement at being carte blanche with a male body and gave him my best icy stare. Ice plays a key part in this story as you will see. I sternly told him to take off his clothes and be quick about it. He stripped in seconds. I ordered him to stand with his legs spread and his hands against the wall. On went my rubber gloves as I began to examine his worthless body. First I laughed at his skinny arms, then grabbed his balls for further investigation. Saggy and pathetic they were. He yelped in pain as I gave them a good squeeze – and believe me I have strong hands. Then I got my magnifying glass out to try to find his cock – all I could find was a tiny clit. He replied: “Please mistress, it isn’t a clit, it is my cock.” Of course I laughed in his pathetic face. “That is not a cock. That tiny thing is a clit.” With that I flicked his tiny member with an elastic band which elicited a scream of pain. That of course was my wicked intention. “Well at least that little thing is alive”, I laughed. My attention was next drawn to his skinny bare arse cheeks. “I will give them some nice colour and loosen up the little hole you have buried in there.” He gulped in fear (and excitement). With that I did what I love doing – scaring the shit out of him. I went up close to his ear and whispered in a very stern but quiet voice: “Be scared, be fucking scared my little boy.” He shivered. There would be more shivering later. Much more.

To be continued

Don't forget to read my great stories here

Thursday, October 6th 2011

ELECTRIC FLY SWAT

Warning. If you are of a nervous disposition, I don’t think you should read this. You all know that as a domme I have a very gentle side. But get me riled or pissed off, and I can be a demon in leather (or PVC). Of course, I always take my slave into account. My regular gardening slave likes to be roughed up and knocked around. I am more than happy to oblige of course especially if he upsets. The other day, he upset me more than ever. He usually comes each week to tend my garden and I expect him to be there on time, in place, butt naked with spade and pair of shears. Last week he was late. Late! When I asked him where he’d been, he replied with utmost disrespect telling me that he had another appointment somewhere – I don’t care what he said, or what is pathetic excuses were. I didn’t like his tone or that he was telling me about his world. He is a slave who belongs utterly to me – and as far as I’m concerned he has no life beyond what I allow him to have. So when he started reeling off the pathetic excuses , I got really mad. I let him do the work in the garden…gave him some extra hard and heavy work and then ordered him to my dungeon. I couldn’t wait for him to finish and be ready for me. I wore my thigh length boots and PVC basque, carried my short whip and felt ready to give out some severe punishment. I licked my lips in anticipation. But I was really angry so when he appeared in the punishment room, I immediately bawled at him making sure my angry face was within inches of his miserable eyes. “Don’t you ever disobey me again and I never want to hear your pathetic excuses or reasons why you can’t do this or that for mistress. You are mine, you belong to me – I tell you what you can and can’t do.” He quivered and I could see that his knees were knocking. I spat in his face and as the spittle ran down his nose, I gave him six slaps across the face – so hard that his face went red as a beetroot. I was still spitting with fury – just seeing him there naked before me, made me even more full of rage. I punched him hard on the arms and he sank to his knees. I ordered him up and chained him up with his legs far apart. Then I really got to work. I have a simple but evil rubber fly swat and gave his cock, balls and legs some nasty whacks. He yelled in agony but I wasn’t finished yet. I have a new toy that I was keen to use on him. An electric fly swat. Yes it delivers a very nasty electric shock on top of the flick swat. I used that on his balls until he cried for mercy. ‘Mercy has to be earned’ I shouted. And as the sweat poured off his miserable beaten body, he cried for forgiveness. I eventually relented, unchained him, told him to get dressed and kicked him out of my sight. Next time, he will certainly know who is boss here.

Monday, July 11th 2011

GARDEN SLAVE

When I employ a slave to do work in my house or garden, I expect him to work hard. And I mean hard! I am a very cruel task mistress, any slacking is punished severely. I do have very high standards and very few slaves manage to get through their assigned work without a thorough beating. The other day, my garden slave came late. This, I do not tolerate. Apart from his lack of punctuality he has rarely given me a full day's work in the garden. I expect my garden slave to dig deep and dig hard, to hoe, to rake, to mow the lawn and make it look like a Wimbledon surface. I don't expect to see any weeds except the slave himself of course

Well this garden slave did not come up to expectations so I decided to punish him, he knew what was coming. Of course I know my slaves well and this one is easily humiliated. So I ordered him to buy some condoms and made him watch while I fucked the arse of another slave. After 5 min I ordered him to get undressed and suck the cock of my other slave. As it was lunchtime I ordered him to kneel on all fours and I used his worthless back as a table. I then ordered him on his knees to do some serious shoe licking and collared him so that he knew he was now my property. I told him that as a worthless dog he was not fit to look me in the eyes. I told him that if I caught him looking at me I would truly hurt him. Of course he couldn't resist looking at me, staring into my cruel eyes, and so duly I gave him a series of hard punches with my fist on his flabby arm.

I then sent him over my knee and slapped his naked arse until it was bright red. He made a big mistake - he started moaning and begging for forgiveness. He told me he would in future spend all day in my garden. Well, I thought, perhaps he will, perhaps he won't, in any case I need to continue to teach him a lesson.

I told him that servitude for me was no place for a baby and so I pulled his lead and made him sniff my bottom like a worthless dog. Of course he did not sniff deeply enough and so fully deserved a session with my wicked cattle prod. After this, we went on walkies and of course if he didn't keep up he got an extra jolt with my prod. This happened on several occasions. I wasn't convinced that he truly played the part of a dog. For instance, he didn't bark very well when commanded to do so. He had to be punished and so I let forth some more strong punches into his body. Suitably battered and bruised my slave finally learned his lesson and next day appeared properly attired in my garden, Wellington booted bollock naked.

Have a look at my hot erotica stories if you really want to get into my kinky domme's mind. Also am happy to write stories FOR YOU - just think, a story of your very own written by a supreme mistress.

Wednesday, June 29th 2011

The art of Humiliation

have been thinking about humiliation. A lot of my slaves ask for it.

And of course I love giving it. But what is IT exactly? The dictionary defines ‘humiliate’ as “making someone feel ashamed and foolish by injuring their dignity.” Now I like that definition because when it comes to making someone feel foolish and injuring dignity, then I am your girl. Oh yes. Let’s take shame. When my slave gets to be humiliated, I want him bollock naked for a start. I want him naked in my kitchen, my living room or out in the garden; I want him naked in front of my partner Mistress Lash or a group of female friends. I want him ready for close and jeering inspection. Many mistresses begin by offering harsh judgements on a man’s cock. In most cases, it is a pathetic little thing worthy only of derision. We will point at it, handle and examine the tiny specimen and ask the slave to account for such a small rod. I may order the slave to rub the cock to full erection. That gives me another opportunity for pouring shame on the wretch. Rarely, if ever, is a cock stiff or long enough for my taste and even if it is, it won’t stay the course I set. I demand a slave’s dick to be hard at all times – even when the owner is standing shivering in a cold garden or drenched head to toe in icy water. If it’s snowing, I like nothing more than packing his dick with fresh snow and watching it subside in the freezing cold. Making someone feel ashamed of himself is not just about pointing or jeering. I have a very harsh tongue and a fine collection of swear words – and I am apt to laugh uncontrollably at the sight of a tiny penis trying against the odds to stiffen itself on command of its mistress.

Humiliation is not just about cock size. I can humiliate a slave by forcing him to dress in women’s clothes, painting his face with the crude makeup of a cheap slut, ordering him to drink a chamber pot of piss contributed by Mistress Lash and I. We may, if the mood takes us, pour the contents over his head, make him stand to attention as the pee runs down his body. We may injure a slave’s dignity by tying a lead round his balls and leading him like a dray horse around the room. We may dent that dignity by demanding he barks like a dog and goes around on all fours with a bushy tail stuck up his arse.

Oh yes, when it comes to injuring dignity, I am your woman. If you want to read more about my humiliation skills, read my erotica stories. Get naked before you do.

Tuesday, June 21st 2011

SILKY FETISH

I am always amused and amazed at the number of fetishes there are out
there; leather, shoes, nylon, rubber......the list is endless. A new
one came my way the other day with a rather upmarket ring: silk
fetish. The new sub gets off on being dominated by strong women
wearing silk. Well Mistress Lash and I were more than willing to
oblige and having stripped off the worthless wretch, we dressed in our
silky best - tops, gloves and stockings and made him worship our silky
coverings. I ordered him on all fours and started to rub his balls
with my silky glasses case. Amazing what you can find. The silky sub
was getting very excited so we decided to douse the flames by spanking
his arse. We took it in turns to have him over our knees. Silk or not,
he got a good hiding that made his arse cheeks as red as my silky
scarf. Our hands getting a bit sore from the thrashings, we decided to
put a silk stocking over our mitts and continue giving him a silky
spanking. He loved it. We then used our silk stockings to tie him to
the bed ..hands and feet stretched out like an overworked silk worm.
Worm is right. Lash and i had a lot of fun rubbing his body with silky
garments and of course, sitting on his face with our tight silk
panties stretched taught over our fragrant pussies. There followed a
game of blind man's muff.....we covered his eyes with a silk scarf and
made him guess what we were rubbing his cock with. If he got it
wrong..as he often did..it was the cattle prod for him. We sat on his
face and made him lick our silky knickers again and finished off a
grand evening with a good old fashioned no silk arse fuck. He was all
silked and milked by the time we finished with him. Our first silk
adventure. There will be more

PS Don't forget to read my sexy dominatrix stories...

Tuesday, June 7th 2011

Fun with a virgin hole

Mistress Lash and I had a fair old time the other day. Our favourite thing: a virgin arse. The slave wanted some humilation and strap on work and that was just dandy for us. He had never had strap-on action so we were very happy to oblige. The pathetic slave came ten minutes late. So that meant punishment. We stripped him roughly and made him shine our rubber boots with his tongue; then we put him over our knees and gave him 20 hard slaps on his worthless arse in turns.

Next we ordered him on his knees to suck our cocks. He never did it right of course and deserved a few more slaps. Then a new bit of sadism: we made him face the wall with a coin in between him and the wall. We told him if he dared drop it we would have to whip his cock, We made it quite difficult as we stood very close – he could smell our hot rubber. We teased him by touching his nipples and whispering sexy things in his ear. It didn’t take long for the coin to drop and so punishment was fully deserved. We took him to the bed and strapped him in chains. Then I found my nice little electro nipple clamp and a new place for its buzzing attention: his balls. Then Lash put the electro butt plug up his manhole. He loved it and was moaning like a bitch in heat. Lash and I took in sitting on his face to keep the noise down and to give him a little taste of breath control – not to say some whiffs of our gorgeous pussies. After this we released him and took him to the fuck bench. Miss Lash and I broke his virgin hole. He moaned out: ‘no, please stop!’. But of course we didn’t. We took turns pumping that hole till he was crying in lustful frustration. Then we made him blow up our rubber doll and with our cattle prods in hand we made him fuck it till he came. It was so funny to see him humping the rubber doll. Then we made him lick up all the cum in the doll’s mouth and ordered him to get dressed and leave. What fun.

PS don't forget to read my hot hot stories....get into the mind of a real cruel woman....

Wednesday, June 1st 2011

Tie and Teased

I seem to have a reputation for being a hard and cruel mistress. That I am but I do have a gentle side - if you know where to look. The same is said for my friend Lady Lash who is a cruel a bitch as you will find in any dungeon. But there are times when the both of us are in gentle teasing mode. Take the other day: we had a softie slave who wanted us to tie and tease him. Well, on that day we were happy to oblige and promptly requested the slave boy to undress. We watched as he did so – arms folded, slightly mocking as his pathetic cock came into view when the pants went down on our soft command. Once butt naked, Lash and I got down to work – we tied the slave to a bed with ropes – not too tight but just tight enough to give him a sense of constraint. Lady Lash was wearing her favourite outfit of rubber including a nice tight pair of latex panties. She’d been in them all day beating the hell out of other subs. So this naked slave’s tongue was brought to play licking and cleaning her tight black rubber knickers. Being a bit of a bitch, she couldn’t resist planting her arse on his face and giving him a few little breath thrills. Nothing too tough. Then I got to work with my little cock whip giving him some rather soft little swipes across the shaft. Lady Lash couldn’t resist a gentle squeeze on this balls (she was using about 15 per cent of her natural squeeze power so the pressure was nothing more than a little uncomfortable for the slave). After this I unclipped my tit covers (pvc) and showed the slave my gorgeous breasts with their long pointy nipples. This seemed to excite the poor man – his cock went ever more rigid – thus allowing me a little more surface areas to rain down my gentle lashes. Lady Lash ran her finger nails up and down his body and I couldn’t resist a little fun with my nasty pin wheel. The session ended with both me and Lash giving the by now boiling point perv some bare-ass facesitting with orders for him to lick out our pussy juices (which were running rather free this point). His face covered in our precious liquids we then ordered the slave to wank – using our face lubricant if he so wished. He did. He tried to jerk off very fast but I took his hands away at the crucial moment. I love tease and denial. After 4 or 5 attempts to burst his banks, Lash and I finally let him cum – and it was like an Icelandic volcano. His cum lay thick and hot across his belly. We of course ordered him to clean it off which he did with ease. Thus cleaned up – we untied our lucky slave and ordered him to shower. When he was in the cubicle, Lash and I offered a bit more evil temptation by stripping off – shoving the hot rubber apparel on to the floor and giving each other long slurpy kisses. Our moans perked up the slave’s cock – as they were intended to do – but we didn’t let him cum again. Not till next time we have him on our tie and tease table.

Don’t forget to read my favourite domme stories on my AdultWork website page. They are very graphic and really get inside the head of this lifestyle queen of cruelty.

Wednesday, June 1st 2011

Sisters of no mercy...a new story

I have posted the first part of a new story on my erotica pages. It concerns Sister Dominique who combines being a nun with the love of punishment - especially miserable male sinners. I like the idea of religious ritual and the worship of a cruel mistress. I hope you like the story and can put yourself into the shoes of the poor male who finds himself at the power of the Sisters of Pain.

Here's the opening....
Sister Dominique had joined the convent to devote herself to God not
to dress up as a whore and lure men, however wicked, into the realm of
pain and chastisement. She could see though that the convent’s mission
was to bring evildoers back along the righteous path. If that path
sometimes went some strange and crooked ways, then so be it. Sister
Angel, the chief tormentress of the wicked ones, had brought
Dominique’s clothes for her first foray back into the world of sin.
As she put on the boots, adjusted the stockings around her strong
thighs, painted on the bright red lipstick, adjusted her leather
low-cut top to show a more than ample cleavage, she thought, ‘Yes
sister, you are a sexy whore – men will not resist your charms.’ She
felt like the spider in the web as she set out for the nearby town.

Monday, May 30th 2011

Breaking in a virgin - plus news on a new story

Whilst I enjoy inflicting pain and humiliation on experienced slaves, there is nothing quite like breaking in a newbie; a virgin arse, an unscathed pair of cock and balls, two juicy male nipples not yet clamped into sharp waves of pain. Well the other day, I had a virgin to my dungeon. He was a young guy - about 23 - skinny but with smooth unblemished skin. This was his first time to see a domme and I could tell - first his arse cheeks were soft and untroubled by any whip. Then there was his demeanor - he was shaking like a leaf when he first saw me in my wicked pvc catsuit and boots. Without a word from me the quivering young slave fell to his knees when I came strutting into the room. Instintively he began to lick my boots - sweet but I hadn't given any permission for this worship. His first taste of punishment followed - a brisk couple of hard slaps on his arse. Already the soft pink turned to angry red. That's how I like it.

I gradually introduced the novice to the taste of my whip, the invigorating buzz of my electro-strap on and (I suspect) his first ever arse fuck. Of course, being a newcomer, I was very gentle - I can be you know - and with a mixture of teasing, name calling and the occasional slap - I had the little puppy craving to serve me. He shall of course and next time won't be so gentle.

Talking of not being gentle, I have posted the second part of Madam X story - it's pretty hard core domme and reflects my own cruel thoughts of what I would do to a sub if i met one on a long train journey. Punishment on wheels - read the story to find out more.

Tuesday, May 24th 2011

Excited about my next session

Excited about tomorrow – have a session with a new sissy slave who is coming for my brand of harsh training. What to do what to do? I don’t believe in starting gently – gentle is not in my nature. I think I will work on his balls..remind him that from now on, his balls are all mine. My playthings. And I like to play rough!

So I will order him to strip naked and lie on my special bed. It is fitted with strong springs attached to each corner of the bed. I will tie him on to the bed, face up with his legs and arms akimbo. Then to work on his balls. I usually like to get the slave to undo his shoe laces – and give them to me. There is something extra tasty about using a slave’s own belongings to tie him up with. So using the laces, I tie his testicles in a figure of eight knot….I think it’s called an Arab Strap. The aim is to make each of the balls stand out proud for my ‘care and attention’. Then I sit on his face. I will wear my rubber panties……they have a nice aroma when I’m excited and warm- which i will be by then (in fact even writing this makes the temperature go up ‘down south’). Then I plonk my rubber encased arse over his useless mouth and order him to lick. He must use his tongue with great care….only licking the panties not my pussy or any intimate part of my rear end. Failure to lick with accuracy will be punished. How? Well once my revered arse is on his face, then I start on his tied up bollocks. Poor things. I like to use my electric cattle prod on them because it gets so much response from the slave’s agonised body. I might also use a special cock whip on those balls and cock..woe betide if he has an erection without my permission. If that tongue of his gets anywhere near my private worship zone (ie pussy) then it’s more of the whip, cattle prod or both! I do know this: by the time I’ve finished with those aching balls, my rubber pants are dripping so there’ s a lot for the slave to drink in.

Yes, I can’t wait to get at sissy slave…….

PS don't forget to catch the very hot stories on my erotica pages...

Monday, May 16th 2011

Seaside torments - and a new story

I’ve just spent a bracing day at the seaside – a typical Bank Holiday Monday…windy, cold and grey. But that’s how i like my bucket and spade days. It was too cold today to don my leather bikini and snorkle mask (I look rather scary in that outfit). I was watching some kids bury their dad in the sand (he must have been freezing) but like lots of things, it gave me an idea. How about this slaves?
I get a large tub of sand (builders will do) and order the slave to lie in it….then pour in cold water until he is covered with the wet gooey stuff. Then generously offering the slave a snorkle (or straw) I cover the wretch’s whole face with sand so that he is buried alive. He is ordered to stay still ..any movement in the sand will be punishable by more cold water or perhaps a thrashing later.
This gives a whole new meaning to beach games and I’ve got more of them up my sleeve….Aren’t I wicked?

Talking of wickedness, I have added a new erotic story - about the evil Madam X, a cruel interrogatorix...you will love it.

Tuesday, May 3rd 2011

The mind of a domme

Soaking in a large scented bath yesterday, reading a magazine, my calm was shattered by reading a very stupid article about domination. The journalist who knows nothing about this world, stated that most dominant women were hard, bitter females who harboured a desire to be more like a man. That is such arrant nonsense and I threw the journal down with such force that it emptied half a tub of soap bubbles on to the floor. What we all know (and I mean those of us in the BDSM world) know is that domination is at heart about love. A true dominatrix cares so much for her slave that she wants to give him all he craves. He wants nothing more than to worship the leather boots that kick him, kiss the hand that wields the whip, surrender his wet mouth to his mistresses gorgeous arse, be enveloped in her golden nectar. When I am putting my slaves through torments or suffering a tongue lashing humiliation, I am doing it of course because of my own desire to rule a man with my feminine power; but I also do it because that is what he most yearns. I offer my foot to him because he dreams of licking it clean; I show him my stockinged legs because that is what he craves. Being a lifestye as well as a professional dominatrix gives me the opportunity to rule a man with overwhelming desire. It is an act of giving – a beautiful act surely. Now calmed and washed clean of that ignorant article, I may go back to that hot soak.

Dont forget to read my stories - delve into my dark imagination.