Play rough

August 25, 2019

You should play rough ONLY when you have learned to do it correctly.

Bondage Games

August 18, 2019

Sunday Morning is an ideal time for your Bondage Games, but –

Please play nicely boys & girls; keep yourselves safe and sane!

International Bondage Day

March 24, 2019

Yes,  yes,  boys & girls,  I know the big day is tomorrow – not today. But I ask you, what doughnut chose a Monday for games of restraint, for role play and rough shagging? A freakin’ Monday! Does that make any sense?

No, it doesn’t.

So, Peedeel and friends are celebrating this International event a day early – who knows, our activities might well stretch into Monday? It’s all a question of stamina!

Whatever your personal feelings, International Bondage Day does give you an opportunity to try something new (if you haven’t played bondage games before). Escape the vanilla. Come over to the darkside for one day. Boys, find that your loved one actual tastes of every dark thought you’ve ever had; girls, submit, be passive or walk in to darkness and dominate your partner, become their mistress whose every wish must be obeyed – or else! Discover yourself: find you are as disturbing as you are beautiful.

Always remember: sex starts in the mind.

24th March 2019

needing to be manhandled

January 6, 2019

A major part of my kink/submission is needing to be manhandled, put in my place and MADE to submit. It is not all the time but it is certainly a strong and powerful kink for me and one that I get off on. I like the fight; I like the roughness that comes with it, the hair pulling, the biting, the spanking, the bondage, but most of all the need for him to exert his physical superior strength over me. I want to know I don’t have an option; I want my clothes torn, my wrists held and my resistance broken. I want, no, I need him to hold me down and as part of that aspect of my kink I will fight, or sometimes beg and cry and plead for him to stop but if he did? Ha! That thought makes me laugh as I know I would be like…. “Huh? Why did you stop? Don’t stop now things where just getting really interesting.” I would be disappointed and probably very frustrated.

Molly Moore
The Power of NO!

‘Normally, as you are aware, consent is everything,’ she said. ‘But not here, not today. Today we will create un moment magique, one that you will never forget. No safe words, no role play. Just the reality of pure sadism. You may beg, cry, curse – it will make no difference. I will be implacable, unhearing, your Nemesis, a simple tool of earlier, unspeakable Gods, overflowing with their cruelty.’

Chicks dig whips
Lady Julia

9th September

Ahead of us, a weekend of unusual entertainments. J will be one of our select guests, and will bless our gathering and provide a spell of protection. Her nickname is Witch-Bitch and she will partake of the entertainment on offer.

Erotic delights will abound. Limbs will be restrained, oiled skin caressed; there will be uninhibited intimacy for all, with each of our fantasies very different. Eight guests, close friends, all individuals, all unique –

Here, will be our playground of the wicked. A place of sensory deprivation, masks, leather cuffs, straps and accessories. Here, fingers will tease and torment. Soft sensual voices will be heard and the sound of stiletto heels on the hardwood floor of our playroom –

The submissive moans of a female, following a dominant’s orders; the gentle begging of a hog-tied male, teased to a point where reality appears to collapse in on itself. Our every day personas will melt away. We’ll let go of our ‘to-do lists’, forget deadlines and projects. Instead our minds will focus on the incredible things happening to our bodies –

And it’s not about pain but about experiencing ultimate pleasure through different sensations, about handing over control to another. The mind, after all, is the largest sexual organ of the body.


Heavy rain during the night. So loud it woke me frequently. The moor is drowning this morning under a cloud filled sky. What the feck happened to summer…?

21st May

Reality is multi-faceted. We inhabit this world and often describe it with words – but if you know the correct combination of words…well, then you can make this world whatever you want it to be. That’s magic, you see. And magic and words is all you’ll ever need.


I can’t help but enjoy her helpless pleading. It’s a silly game we play, I know, but when she cries:

‘No, not there, please….pleeeasssseee.’

And I force it to fit, and see the expression on her face in the mirror on the far wall. That moment feels so erotically charged.


Last summer seven of us around Dave and Mary’s swimming pool. Sophia and Vic arguing, then wrestling between a pair of sunbeds, like truculent children. Vic yowling when Sophia twists his cock. She has it out of his trunks, semi-erect, gripping it in her small fist. He is red-faced, sweating…We watch Vic forced gradually to his knees, breathing noisily, unable to free himself or counter Sophia’s vice-like hold.

‘Stop struggling.’ She orders. ‘Stop now or I’ll tear it out by the root.’

‘Alright, alright.’

His sister Babs calls out vaguely obscene acts Sophia might force him to comply with, and Vic yells out:

‘Whose side are you on, Sis?’

Sophia’s eyes are bright with this unexpected victory and the sense of power she has over him. She is on one knee beside him. The knuckles griping his twisted cock are white with the effort, while her other hand has now captured his exposed balls. His shorts are down round his thighs. One of his hands is pressed to the ground supporting his weight, the other is wrapped loosely round Sophia’s right wrist. He can’t tug at her because she twists harder, both balls and cock.

‘Come on,’ he says ‘Enough is enough. Let go now – ’

‘Make him suck Kenny’s cock,’ Babs’ suggests. She is quite intoxicated by sun and vodka. ‘Let’s see him do that…We could all use a laugh.’

Ken B rolls on his side on the bright orange sunbed. Using his thumbs he works his trunks over his hips. Fat, meaty cock standing to attention.

‘Bring it on,’ he cries. Removing his sunglasses, he gives Vic a nasty wink.

‘Come on, I’m not doing that,’ says Vic. ‘Not for anyone – ’

And he moans in pain as Sophia twists harder, her conquering smile at his shoulder.

‘You’ll do exactly as I say.’ She says this with such passion. ‘Now up you get, slave boy, and over to Kenny. You’re going to do a bit of sucking – ’

‘He can do me, when he’s finished with Ken,’ Mary calls. She props herself up on her sunbed, both tits exposed and glowing. ‘Like to lap at my cup Vic? I’ve been in the pool so it’s all washed for you.’

General laughter and applause round the pool as Vic is forced to his knees beside Kenny’s sunbed. Head forward, face brushing Ken’s cock before Vic finally takes it reluctantly into his mouth.

‘There’s a good boy,’ says Sophia. ‘You take to that like a duck to water. A baby with its pacifier.’

The sight of his bobbing head produces laughter all around. Kenny gives this slightly obscene wriggle when he cums in Vic’s mouth. The hateful expression on Vic’s face as he straightens up causes yet more laughter.

‘Me next,’ cries Mary. Dave tells her to behave herself, but she’s unknotted her bikini bottom, and raised one leg into the air. To open herself wider, she draws the folds of skin apart with her fingers. ‘Here you are. All ready for you.’

And within seconds Vic is on his knees and feverishly pressing his lips to this small pink conch shell. More enthusiasm in his movements now. Her thighs press to his ears. He licks at the growing wetness, face flushed, breathing loudly. Again applause around the pool at the climax of this vulgar ritual. Her long body shuddering in the throes of joy…

Sophia finally releases him.

Vic pulls up his trunks.

And everyone applauds the fine performance.

fantasy come true

April 1, 2017

Is it a fantasy come true?

For most people femdom, or a female led relationship, stays a secret fantasy. Those inexperienced people often construct myths around femdom and FLR. But do you know what femdom is in real life? It is, in short: When you feel sexually aroused while I use you to make myself happy. Sounds like the porn you watch? Probably because you can’t put yourself in the position of the real me.

What I want to be happy may be a clean kitchen, it may be a stack of shirts ironed, it may be my neighbours called out because they keep me awake all night with endless partying. It may be you stripping for me on my command and then me stomping on and slapping parts of your body, it may be me, teasing your most erogenous zones, talking to you in my cute voice or it may be both of us cuddling on the sofa and watching movies in our pyjamas.

Femdom is about certain emotional needs being satisfied. It is not so much about the fetishes. They can be just a part of it.

FLR is one way of conducting your relationship and to find peace, happiness and real intimacy in it.

I can’t stand people telling me how my dominance should look like to be real dominance (mostly men, but sometimes women too).

I am the evil black spirit one minute and the loving mother the next, I protect and I hurt. Amicably. If we agreed in our relationship that you are my sub and I am your boss, there is no way that you dictate to me what is dominance and what isn’t. But of course you are to communicate to me what works for you and what doesn’t. This is a relationship as any other in one way: You are together with me because you want me. I am with you because I want you. If you decide, that I am not what you want, you can leave. Always. But you don’t come to me, beg me to be your Domme and then tell me what of my behaviour is dominance and what isn’t. What I’m allowed to and what I’m not allowed to do to still call myself a Domme. If I am your Domme, I’m always your Domme. No matter in what voice I’m talking, no matter how nicely I phrase any command, no matter to what use I see fit to utilize you.

Naturally, it follows, that not every man who calls himself a sub is the ideal match for every woman who calls herself a Domme. We are all humans. A relationship is always dependent on personal sympathies, and human personalities are defined by more than just “Domme” or “sub”. You wouldn’t suggest, that everyone who likes vanilla sex and conservative marriage, is a good match for every other person with the same preference, would you?

Femdom is far more than evil stares and harsh words from Ice Queens. Women can be dominant in so many ways! And if you want to, and she consents, you can have the Ice Queen occasionally from your loved one, or always, if you pay Her for it.

Living in a femdom relationship with a lifestyle Domme is fun and fulfilling, it’s contributing to the happiness of all partners involved. That’s the sign of every healthy relationship, by the way. And, you know, most women aren’t happy in a relationship where they never can get hugs when they’re tired or be silly and cute just because they always have to role-play the Evil Queen. You are two adults, supporting each other in your needs and dreams. Not two combatants, constantly fighting each other or one, always expected to fight, to subdue the other and to keep him in the relationship out of fear.

Source Here

Lado Gudiachvili

There was a time I found myself increasingly thinking about a particular passage from the book “Old Wine and New” by Warwick Deeping. The book had been published back in the thirties, and I’d picked up a copy at a local carboot. In it a police woman is attacked in London on Armistice Night, 1918. A crowd of street walkers, sick and tired of police interference in their lives, strip her stark naked in the street for the amusement of all the men and women out celebrating war’s end.

‘Go it girls. Leave nothing on,’ yells a male onlooker, enthusiastically.

‘What’s happening?’ asks his female companion.

‘The totties are scragging one of the women police.’

The female companion’s “scream of laughter” at this and the “exultant expression” on her face stimulated my overheated imagination. Seeing this poor woman, this ‘officer of the law’, her bush and breasts fully exposed, her uniform roughly torn from her, tearfully spread-eagled on the wet cobbles…spread open for the delectation of strangers.

A sight for sore eyes, indeed.

I spoke to AB about this when she mentioned her big birthday wish. She wanted to arrange a little scenario wherein she is used and abused sexually. She is a total masochist, you see.

‘I could be that police woman,’ she said.

Arrangements were quickly made, and a venue organised. Others from our local BDSM group would attend the “event” as participants or audience. A suitable uniform was obtained, with some difficulty, and “period” underwear purchased for AB to wear on “the night”. And come “the night” she really did look the part.

AB was initially “assaulted” by four women. They were enthusiastically supported by six horney males. There was much yelling and cheering as AB’s clothes were literally ripped from her plump body. She, of course, struggled. Memorably, at one point, a solitary breast tugged free of her top, was roughly kneaded by WR, like a nipple crowned lump of dough.

Finally stripped naked, I caught a glimpse of her gaping vagina as she went down on the floor (carpet not cobbles). There was a wild cacophony of voices set in counterpoint to AB’s shrieking. She kicked and bit, waving her legs in the air. I could only watch, fascinated, by the heaving mass of flesh on the floor…

So it came to pass that poor AB was unceremoniously “raped” by this eager crowd. Each male in turn took his place between her yawning thighs. There they thrusted into her with great vigour, but after a minute or so of brisk friction they would groan their gratification in violent, creamy spasms. A condom covered truncheon went into AB while the men rested. Mr AB proved the most violent, most persistent of his wife’s abusers that night. He left a snailtrack of thick cum across her bum. Others seized her trembling body in an almost hallucinatory frenzy…

Again and again she was taken. On her back, then on her belly. Her face and tits were slapped; her cunt fingered. Like a crazed bacchante AB took it all. She became this fleshy extinction beyond time or place…

Later, in the calm following sexual frenzy, she said to me, ‘I can’t wait for my next birthday.’

‘You don’t have to,’ I replied. ‘There’s another scenario I feel haunted by…’

But that one’s for another time.

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