Escape was quite impossible.

September 29, 2019

There was a platform in the centre of the square of each village, and when the Queen went inside the house of the Lord of the village to drink a cup of wine with him, I was left on display.

But I was not to stand gracefully as I might have hoped. And the villagers knew this, though I didn’t. When we reached the first village, the Queen went away, and as soon as my feet hit the platform, a great roar went up from the crowd who knew they were to see something amusing.

I had my head down when Princess Lynette removed the phallus from my anus. Of course the crowd cheered at this. I was then made to kneel up, hands behind my neck on a turntable.

Princess Lynette operated it with her foot. And telling me to spread my legs wide, she turned the turntable. I was perhaps more afraid in these first few moments than ever before, but never once did the fear of rising and trying to escape come to me. I was helpless. Naked, a slave of the Queen, I was in the midst of hundreds of common people who would have overpowered me at once, and cheerfully for all the sport it would have given them. It was then that I realized escape was quite impossible. Any naked Prince or Princess fleeing the castle would have been apprehended by these villagers. They would have given no shelter.

Now Princess Lynette commanded me to show to the crowd all my private parts that were in the service of the Queen, and that I was her slave, and her animal. I did not understand these words, which were spoken ceremoniously. So she told me politely enough that I must part the cheeks of my buttocks as I bent over and display for them my open anus. Of course this was a symbolic gesture. It meant I was ever to be violated. And nothing more than that which could be violated.

But my face aflame, my hands trembling, I obeyed. A great cheer went up from the crowd. Tears slipped down my face. With a long cane, Princess Lynette lifted my balls for them to see, and pushed my penis this way and that to display its defenselessness, and all the while I had to hold my buttocks apart and display my anus. Whenever I relaxed my hand she commanded me sharply to pull the flesh wider apart and threatened me with chastisement. “That will infuriate her Highness,” she said, “and amuse the crowd immensely.” Then to a loud approving cry, the phallus was shoved securely back into my anus. I was made to press my lips to the wood of the turntable. And I was led back to my position beside the Queen’s coach, Princess Lynette pulling my bridle over her shoulder as I trotted with my head lifted behind her.

A. N. Roquelaure [Anne Rice]
The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty


A normal Sunday. On the sofa, playing with his boy’s bits for 45 minutes while I watched a foreign language TV programme. (see previous post) Had him in his shortened maid’s outfit with his suspenders and long cream woollen socks, (see previous post), to make my lunch, clean the bathroom, do a huge pile of ironing, prepare the evening meal. Caned him several times for infringements. 50 strokes over four punishments within a one hour period.

Then up onto the BDSM gynaecological bed for over three hours of total sensory deprivation, (apart from my visits to him.) Three coatings of Deep heat from the applicator during that period. Tears during the last application. Lots of very had smacks on his arse, while so bound – very hard, on that very sore arse. Lots of spitting into his funnel gag.

And then something I had not done for a while. Poking the Interdental brush down the eye of his little cock. All the way to the hilt. He wriggled (as best he could – almost not at all), he squealed, he was very upset.

Four huge orgasms for me, three by his tongue, one by my own hand – listening to him crying over the third application of the Deep Heat to his little clitty.

For the technical among you, dear readers, I should make two clarifications. Firstly, I have realised my Deep Heat Applicator actually has a brand name of: Deep Heat – Muscle Rescue – Neck and Shoulder Cream. I don’t know why I did not spot this before. Secondly, the Interdental brush I used was 0.6mm diameter. It was blue. The brushes are colour coded for size. (In the UK at least.) I have noticed there are purple brushes of 1.1mm diameter. Those will be the next I use.

Mistress Scarlet
Real Life Female Domination


Instead of an inflatable gag and blindfold, I used a full leather hood tightly laced up behind his head. The hood has no eye holes and has a two inch rubber gag insert. The new face cushion then rests on the arm of the sofa and his face sits in that. He can’t really move his head at all because that would be so uncomfortable. He still has silicone inserts in his ears under his hood, and industrial ear defenders over the hood. He is now much more immobile than he was with the previous set-up.

So, I sit and watch a foreign language TV program or DVD and play with his sensitive shaved boy’s bits that protrude awkwardly from between his bound thighs. He cannot move a muscle. And, as it is so often, when he has been denied and in his tube for many, many days, he is soooooo sensitive and gets sooooo hard. With my elbows resting comfortably in my lap, I just play, and play and play. An hour passes in no time! Of course, he NEVER gets to cum while I play with his trinkets and he knows that will never happen.

I, on the other hand, when I have finally finished playing and locked his little cock back up, always seem to need him to drop to his knees and lick very attentively.

Mistress Scarlet
Real Life Female Domination


I grabbed the waist of my underwear and said quietly “well, here goes.” I pulled them down past my ankles and placed them on the pile of my clothes. Mistress pointed to a spot on the floor and told me to stand there. I did as told, but didn’t know what to do with my hands. I covered up for a second, then thought how silly that was and decided to just place them to my sides.

Mistress inspected me like I was an animal. She was genuinely intrigued by the fact that I am not circumcised. I think she said, “Oh my, you’re not cut. This will be interesting.” She handled my penis and balls and pulled the foreskin back. Then she had me turn around slowly, and finally told me to get down on the floor, on my knees and hands, and place my head on the floor. I was incredibly excited. Mistress straddled over me and I could feel the inside of her legs against my thighs and against my waist. She ran her hands down my shoulders and back like she was petting a horse or large dog.

She then gave me the following strict orders:

“You are now mine and will do exactly as you are told without question.”

“You will address me as Mistress at all times.”

“You should be on all fours on the floor at all times, unless I say otherwise.”

“You shall not speak without permission except to thank me. If you need to speak, you should first ask permission.”

I was immediately floating on a cloud. It felt like I thrived on being told what I could and couldn’t do, and would gladly comply. I responded, “Yes Mistress,” and she said, “Very good”.

Mistress Lauren

A Pain Slut’s First Visit


Don’t be disgusting.

I once ordered a client to bend over for a paddling only to discover that he had a piece of toilet paper stuck to his asshole. Never go into a session with toilet paper stuck to your asshole. If you think you might have toilet paper stuck to your asshole, don’t take off your pants.

Yes, this experience was scarring enough to warrant its own item on this list.

Miss Maya Midnight
A Complete Newbie’s Guide to Seeing Pro-Dommes