Men should be tagged… like cattle.
Category: Consentual slavery
Worth – story
Pain, it’s part of the pleasure.
“You’ve got such an ugly, old dick and balls, boy. They really beg to be beaten. I bet you’ve been wondering if I’d be doing this again. Well of course I am. This time you don’t even have to hold them up for me, my pretty rope will do it for me.”
He shivered in the hard kitchen chair. His wrists were bound straight down at his sides, and his ankles to the plain, sturdy wooden legs. She had looped rope tightly around his cock and balls, held the end up like a leash and pushed it between his teeth to hold taught with a stern admonishment not to drop it. Viola stood before him, running his thin leather dress belt through her hands. She had noted it immediately when he had showed up at the restaurant. She had decided then and there that this evening would be perfect to try a whippier cock beating.
“You know, men know very well that their useless, little dicks deserve to be spanked and whipped. You are just so proud of your fun sticks. You flaunt it all over and you’re just so sensitive about it. Like you pet. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Goddess, I am sensitive about it. That’s why you liked belting it so much last time.”
“Mmhm. You screamed and cried. But you wanted it so much that you even offered them up to the belt with your own hands. My belt, not your thin little belt. You even begged me for more, you little pain slut.”
“I… I wanted to please you, Goddess.”
“Mmm, yes, I know. I liked that. And I found that I liked your screams, too. And remember, you left a big wet spot on the chair. You’re so twisted pet. Such a dirty bitch. That kind of bitch deserves to get his cock and balls belted again, doesn’t he?”
He knew she wanted him to repeat that back to her. And, well, it was kind of true. “Yes, Goddess, I’m a twisted, dirty bitch who deserves to have his cock and balls belted.” As he said it, he shuddered and felt a heavy cloak of buzzing warmth spread over his chest and shoulders. He felt as if his eyes had to close; his breath came quicker.
Viola ran the cool leather over his thighs. “Ask for it, my pet.”
Slowly he answered. “Goddess… please whip my useless, little cock and balls with my belt. Whip it until I scream and beg you to stop. Please mark me. I want to see that their yours.”
“Good boy. I’ll oblige. Let’s see if this thin little thing will make bruises like the thick one did, or just nice pink welts. Mmm, I bet we can get it pretty raw with such a whippy belt. No need to count this time, Pet. I think I’ll need to do a lot more, a lot faster.”
Viola waited a minute. Her play toy was clearly dopey already just from being tied up and insulted. Of course he was, the silly shit lived for that stuff. Well, she’d shortly make him dopier. She decided to dive right in without warmup. He liked it when she was nasty, anyway.
Suddenly she struck, across both of the impossibly soft balls. He gasped, his eyes suddenly rising to her face. His mouth gaped in an O as she quickly struck him a dozen more times, his face shocked. By the end he was already involuntarily trying to raise his hands to protect himself. But she had made sure to tie him firm. Her cunt moistened in her pants.
Her torture pet was breathing heavily. Viola’s gaze shifted to his eyes from the rising pink welts on his thighs and balls.
“How is it, slut? Does it hurt as much as the big belt?”
Finally he caught his breath again. “Yes, Goddess, it hurts a fucking lot. It’s different cause it’s not so heavy. But it really fucking stings. And you’re doing it so fast.”
“Mm, that’s good to hear. Let’s do another round.”
He whimpered this time but didn’t protest. Viola set in quickly again. Halfway through, he started to make squeaking noises, which quickly grew to proper squeals. He was struggling again, too, which made his balls wiggle even more, tugged by the rope between his clenched teeth as his head thrashed about. His cheeks were flushed and he was starting to break out in a sweat. Her panties were soaked already. What a lovely sight.
“You’re beautiful like this, pet. Letting me hurt your precious cock and balls. Not even complaining. I bet you’d even ask me for more yourself, wouldn’t you.” She reached out and squeezed his balls. Her pet moaned.
“Well?”
“Ooh… Goddess, I want more. Please hit them some more. I can’t get enough. Please–“
He was cut off by another rain of blows. His moans quickly turned into yells. Viola stopped short. “I think we’ll try your cock now.” She carefully lined up the belt, and then delivered six blows smartly, with just little pauses between each. Satisfyingly, Pet’s moan-yells quickly raised in pitch. She actually had made him scream. Delicious.
“Fuck, Pet, I never knew I’d love making a man scream in pain so much.” She aimed and started on his cock again. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” Snap! “You want me to make you take it.” Snap! “You need this.” Snap! “You’ll be so compliant after this.” Snap! “So soft and yielding.” Snap! “This is who you are.” Snap! “You were so eager to show off your cock to me, weren’t you. Did you think I’d just smile and nod and not do anything with it?” She paused a second longer and then hit those now-red balls extra hard. “You didn’t know I would enjoy this so much. You naive little bitch. You got more than you bargained for.”
He had started to sniffle between his screams. “Aww, did I hurt your feelings, bitch? That’s what really makes you cry. You can just take so much pain, can’t you? You’re just so proud of that.” Viola started raining down another few dozen from the top of his chest, across his stomach and then his thighs. Halfway through Pet started sobbing properly. His tears fell onto his cheeks, trickling down and off the tip of his chin.
“Do the tears sting on that raw skin? Poor, poor thing. Do you want me to stop?” Her pet heaved and nodded.
“Ask nicely.”
“Goddess, I’ve had enough. I can’t take anymore. Please stop! Please no more!”
Viola tilted his face up towards her. “No, bitch.”
She delivered six more on the wet, already welted skin above his nipples. After his initial stare of shock, he really lost it. Between his throwing his head around and trying to kick, Viola had to steady the chair with one hand as she gave him the last strokes. Maybe he really couldn’t take anymore. She knew she certainly couldn’t.
Viola slid her pants off over her hips and straddled him in the narrow chair. She started to rub her pantied pussy all around the slippery, tear stained flesh of his face, Her pet moaning as she reached down to drag her nails across the stinging welts in his thighs, his volume rising as she passed back and forth over his lips. Viola couldn’t hold out any longer, she had to feel herself on his tongue. “Open! Tongue, now!” She started thrusting, holding his head firm.
“This feels so good for me, pet. Your moaning really makes it better. Soon I’m going to come… then I’m going to fill your pretty mouth with my piss, and when I release you you’re going to rub my pee in all by yourself, and thank me for it.”
She pressed him deep into her, smothering him. “Beg me to come, little whore.”
The tears had started to roll again. He desperately wanted to ask her. He wanted to breathe. She pulled back slightly so he could gasp and speak. “Please come and piss on my face, Goddess…
show me what I’m worth.”
The Kiss
Note: This fantasy came to me as a result of a real life event. Upon our first meeting, I forgot my vows in front of Goddess Viola Voltairine and she did actually allow me to kiss her boot anyway. The following day I came down with an awful head and chest cold…
As she waited for her latest acolyte’s arrival, she casually picked up another of the purplish-blue berries, held it up before her eyes and pondered it before she dropped it on the floor with an air of casual disregard, and crushed it under her left boot.
Her private maid, standing at attention in the corner squirmed inwardly as she watched her in the peripheral vision of her down turned eyes.
“Something troubles you robbi?”
“Of course not Mistress.” she replied. The stress in her voice making it very clear she wanted to be believed.
The doorbell rang and robbi, glancing over to be sure she was dismissed to answer it, scurried off. She soon returned with a naked boy in tow.
Hands behind his back, head bowed and eyes fixed on the floor, he waited until she spoke to him. “You have been through my lessons and have done well. You know why you are here?”
“Yes Goddess. To be considered for a position as a house slave for you. Please, with open eyes and open heart, I want to serve you forever Goddess…”
She eyed him coolly. “Then on your knees before me. Let me hear your vows.”
He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled to her. Once his lips where inches from her boots, he began his vows. “I accept the natural authority of women, I submit to the authority of my teacher…” Looking down at him, she listened dispassionately.
Then his words stumbled. He started the sentence again, “My role is to support… ah, My role…”
“Start again!” she growled at him.
“I accept the natural authority of women. I submit to the authority of my teacher…”, he was blushing now. Flustered by his own failure, he admitted he could not remember the remaining line of his pledge to her. Defeated, he hung his head in utter shame.
She slid her left boot forward. “You may kiss it.” He threw himself forward and eagerly pressed his lips to the smooth, cool black leather, kissing it passionately.
She looked down on him as she lifted it.
“Now the sole. Lick. Gooood boooyyyy…” she watched in fascination as the belladonna she had crushed beneath it took effect.
Had he obeyed her rule, learned his vows to perfection and been a good slave, he would have been offered her right boot…
She leaned forward and cradled his chin is her palm, lifting his eyes to hers. “Awwww. Now you will have plenty of time to learn your vows”, watching as the light faded from behind his eyes. “As you serve the Temple of The Dark Goddess. Forever.”
Slavery
Fantasy vs. Reality.
Nine Needles Punishment
Goddess Voltairine bade me to kneel before her at the Domcon play party on Sunday evening. The sounds of other slaves being whipped and erotically teased & tormented echoed in the dark room around us. Robbi knelt at her side.
As she gazed down at me and commanded me to recite my vows to her, she touched me so profoundly that my mind went blank. I knelt before a living Goddess… and I forgot my vows.
Additionally, she informed me I failed to keep her vendor’s booth neat and organized, a reflection upon her. She was not pleased with my service and I had earned a very well deserved punishment. She wrote later;
“As for your punishment…. It must involve both pain and sacrifice. It must thrill my sadistic side. It must be difficult. Om the other hand it must also be useful toward my goals as well...
… I am fond of needles. I want to see 9 play piercings on your body, with 20 gauge or larger needles (it will turn me on if I get to see blood trickling). From those you will attach lovely graceful delicate silver chains and from those you will attach and hang my book. Make it artful. Delight me. Take some lovely photos of this with the five words as the caption.“
Nine 20 gauge needles Goddess. The V upon my chest for Voltairine.
The line beneath the V represents myself. I am just a pedestal for you to stand upon while you reach for the stars. I hope I have pleased.
Do I disgust you?
If the picture above offends, upsets, or grosses you out please do not continue to read further. This means you Jamie!
I have written extensively about all the nice parts of devoted male service, female led relationships and about the need for a world Gynarchy and such.
This isn’t that.
This post is all about my dark side. My strong sado-masochistic desires. It turns out that all girls aren’t made of sugar and spice and everything nice. And some boys like me cherish the ones with far darker wet dreams…
Almost two decades ago, I found one of my heroines in Faye Kane and her writing THINGS MY FUTURE HUSBAND WILL DO IF HE REALLY LOVES ME. She admitted to masturbating to the most inhumane, sadistic treatments of herself, inviting degradation, pain, and even death at the hands of someone who would really, really get off on it. Living a pointless existence except for the arousal her suffering could give another. And there where others… JustaGimp, “There is no return to a normal life for it. It no longer can be human. It is now less…. a worth less fuck thing… Less then even a sub creature. Fuckmeat, fuck puppet, fuck object… Just holes in a latex suit. And for it, this is the a joyful life one it was born for.” and Miss Irene Clearmont‘s tales of blackmail and permanent slavery… Oh my!
What follows is not a fantasy wish list, it is inspiration for the right woman. The woman who cums from forcing a man through his ‘no, not’ list one-by-one, gleefully ignoring each of his “please no!”s. This is to make her nipples harden, her labia swell… her breath become shallow and her heartbeat quicken. This is being her muse and offering her myself as a blank tapestry for her own wickedness and cruelty. This is for the woman who reads this list and says “and…“! For without her wicked desire, it is all pointless. I am pointless.
“Your cock is no longer for any type of pleasure. It will be used BY ME to frustrate you & inflict pain on you. This will help train & control you and it is in your best interest. Any pleasure you get from now on will be from serving ME & helping ME have fantastic orgasms whenever I want them. No negotiation, no going back, no mercy. Once clicked, the ratchet never backs off. Ever. I may permit you a ruined orgasm from time to time if you go one day without food or 12 hours without water or 30 seconds without air. After you’ve cum we’ll permanently extend the requirement to the original amount + the current amount. 30 seconds becomes 60, becomes 90… I think it will be super hot to watch you slowly starve and suffocate yourself in frustration!”
It no longer matters how close you get or many times I make you edge, your response will always and forever be, “Please don’t let me cum Goddess!”
At my whim, you are going to build me a video library of your ever increasing humiliations and tortures;
- You peeing into my panties then stuffing them into your wide open mouth and taping your mouth shut over them… just to remind you your silence, as well as piss, is golden.
- Next you’ll pee into a glass and pour it over your head for me.
- We’ll use your wife’s fucking machine to ass fuck yourself while I watch via Zoom and laugh and yell out commands. “Faster! Slower! Deeper!! HARDER!”
- And I would be remiss if I didn’t watch you do a little ass to mouth practice – take out the butt plug I had you shove up your ass last night out and lick and suck it clean for me. Make love to it! Show me what a passionate shit eater you would be for me!
- Oh, we’re not done there… now shit on a plate and kiss it and lick it like candy. Some day you might be lucky enough to have the honor of mine to enjoy!
- Text me every 30 minutes on the dot for 24 hours. Awwww, I bet you’ll be soooo tired when I tell you, “Again.”
- Cut my initials into your chest and thighs and wash yourself in your blood. MY blood.
- Next I think I will starve you. No food until given permission. Then I might allow you to feed yourself a can of cat food. In fact if your weight ever goes above 200lbs, I will have you drive needles into your cock and balls. Maybe nails. And next month I might make it 195lbs… then 190… then… the point is I’ll keep finding reasons to pierce, scar and mutilate your cock until no one would ever want to see it, let alone touch it, ever again!
- Up on the gynecological exam table like a good little girl, feet in the stirrups, and give yourself a guiche piercing. Then padlock your PA to it and mail me the key. I will get great enjoyment for letting you watch me hammer it into a useless lump of metal.
Once we’ve finished with all those games, we can start your weekly confessionals where you’ll confess your short comings and be required to make suggestions for even more punishments and your deserved penance for the week. Remember, even if you were perfect all week, you where born male and deserve punishment for that fact alone.
Every two weeks you’ll call me on Zoom and beg me for two more weeks of denial while you edge for me. Be entertaining enough and I may invite my girlfriends to watch!
I will call for snap Zoom inspections to see you are cleaning properly. Sooner rather than later you’ll realize I will always find something wrong, I’m just using it as an excuse to watch you beat the shit out of yourself with your studded belt across your thighs! But Goddess help you if I think you are not trying your hardest to please me!
We’ll do plenty of one-way, recorded Zoom calls of you performing humiliating games for me and my girlfriends. Maybe even other prospective slaves so they can witness what they’re getting into. We’ll might have you write on yourself with permanent marker, watch you crawl and lick your wife’s boot soles clean, chain your cock piercing to your tongue and recite poetry for us. Put you in women’s panties and watch as you pour itching powder into them, then handcuff your hands behind you… maybe after taking a nice big enema of your own piss as well. Leave the camera on so we can check on you from time to time and listen to your sobbing and pleading.
Maybe I’ll feel like you need some corner time chained to the wall. Hours and hours of it. We came include your noise cancelling headphones looping my hypnosis tapes over and over. Even better, chained outdoors in the cold until watching you shiver gets boring and I release you.
Can a person waterboard themselves? I game to find out! Even if it takes you all afternoon to perfect it!
When we hold our women’s meetings we’ll play a variation of a drinking game. We put you in a rubber gas mask and have you cover the opening until you hear the word “slave”. It will all help reinforce the fact that men should remain silent when women are speaking!
For some silliness I’ll have you record yourself writing “I am a stupid male.” 500 times with no breaks. Then you can mail it to me and I’ll let you watch as I drop it in the trash, unopened.
Holidays will be extra special fun for me and you from now on too! Starting on the 4th of July we can celebrate the removal of freedoms month!
- You’ll turn over web access to your security camera. You’ll never know who I share it with.
- I’ll remove your sight by having you put in your blackout contacts for a day.
- You’ll spend a day gagged.
- No more naked female bodies for you ever. For your edging pleasure you can have CFNM porn only, liberally interspersed with images of ME.
- Money and speech are power, so let’s have you surrender all your passwords, credit cards numbers, and investment accounts information. You can ask my permission to use them going forward…
So there it is. Just a glimpse into my darkness. By far, it is not a comprehensive list. Did I even mention what you can do with a wire coat hanger and a kitchen brulee torch? Ben Gay? Shock collars? No. Of course not. As I said, it isn’t intended to be a wish list, it’s meant to inspire the right woman’s own imagination!
It is meant to speak to women who may have a small place hidden away inside them that resents, fears, and is angry with men in general but which they never speak out loud. It is an invitation to a safe place where you are invited to be your full self, all that is beautiful and divine about your woman-ness and all that lusts for retribution and complete power.
How dark are you Ma’am? What would you love to paint upon the canvas of me?
Finding Love – the Movie
The Director
To paraphrase Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart, “I can’t write my fantasy, but I know it when I read it.” LoL! I can’t claim to have authored every word of my fantasy for you, but every word is my fantasy.
Her casually dressed friends sat on plush sofas and chairs around the room’s perimeter, beverages in hand, taking in the sight at the rooms’ center. The Women enjoyed Viola’s screenings – their get-togethers where Viola’s stable of boys would wait on, and perform for them. Strong professionals, all of them, the Women reveled in the reversal of societies prescribed oppressive roles at the gatherings. It wouldn’t be uncommon for powerful men to have two beautiful young women perform for their amusement, and for powerful Women, there should be no double standard.
The women admired V. and were all students of hers. They marveled that, while being a very successful filmmaker and author, she still found the time to train more men to serve her. And she was always finding new ways to take more and more away from them. Remaining freedoms to take away. Remaining drops of power to drain from them. More money and property to have transferred into her name. She ensured that they had nothing. She liked keeping them that way. Not just because she liked owning things – and she certainly loved owning things – but because it kept them completely powerless. Once enthralled to her, there was nothing they could ever do, no chance of leaving her, no possible way out, no escape, no future. She liked knowing that.
And it served the larger purpose: controlling them more than anyone has ever been controlled. Physical and financial slavery wasn’t enough for her. Nor was sexual control. After all, any submissive man would do anything she told him to. No, she exerted the kind of extreme, absolute control that permeated every cell in their bodies, every second of their lives, every single solitary waking thought, every dream, for every single day of the rest of their lives. Their entire lives revolved around her, no, belonged to her. Words like worship, control, obedience, and slavery took on a whole new meaning…
So too did words like service, humiliation, and yes, even torture. She decided she would not only use “whatever means necessary” to bring them completely under her control, she would use every means, every method. Necessary or not! Because after all, she really enjoyed this. She enjoyed it immensely! Forcing them deeper… deeper under her spell. Seeing their bodies flinch. Seeing their faces fill with fear, not knowing what she was planning to do next, and trying to anticipate whatever whimsical desire she might be forming. And she was always forming new ideas. In the shower, driving in the car, daydreaming at work, even in her dreams, part of her mind was always thinking up new things to do to each of them. New ways to enforce her dominance and increase their submission to her. Like her ever-increasing control over them, her methods for ensuring their obedience were ever evolving as well. Some subtle and manipulative, others blunt and sadistic, but always creative and carefully contributing to their ultimate demise…
Tonight’s entertainment was billed as a live-action film – the ‘live action’ provided by the two “men”, robbi and the new boy, whose flesh rubbed against one another as they reverse straddled one another face to caged cock. Hands gripping tightly to buttocks, they licked voraciously around each other’s swollen cage and testicles. It wasn’t quite what either of them expected when they became Goddess Viola’s slaves, but what their Master felt it ought to be.
The “film” part came from the cameras recording every moment of the slaves evening. Her slaves were used to being filmed. Cameras in every room monitored them 24/7, ensuring their obedience and dedication to their chores.
Her third boy, Drum, known to all the women as V.’s pet and favorite fuck toy, knelt between her thighs as she lay on the large black recliner, licking and kissing her slowly, keeping her aroused. Her direction came as the crack of a riding crop on his ass.
*CRACK!* “I want to see more passion!” *CRACK!!* The women all laughed.
The women in attendance knew that all V.’s boys were kept on a short leash. She insisted they be locked in chastity 24/7, and prescribed strict diet and grooming regimens for them to maintain a smooth and kept appearance for the Ladies’ viewing pleasure. V. also insisted on having child filters set up on their digital devices to ensure they couldn’t look at any porn. She wanted her boys horny, hungry, and eager for anything She’d care to have them do to one another on nights like tonight.
Her other three ‘free range’ boys were also in attendance that night (She laughingly referred to her group of men ‘Her sinful six’). These three were local slaves-in-training who while also kept in 24/7 chastity, were free to live their normal lives. V. would only communicate with them to set up times they should be available for her and her friend’s amusement. They were expected to show up on time, strip to their collars and cages, and be prepared to serve at the whims of whoever V. was hosting; tending to their beverages, and leisure needs when not being made to perform.
Though she reveled in their denial and use as sex toys, V. would allow for her slave’s release on occasion. She and her friends found great amusement in having them sixty-nine. Having them fellate each other until one of them came, then locking them both back up, one still denied for another day. She enjoyed the balance of allowing the loser to whip the winner, however. Truth be told, she was too busy a woman now to properly discipline two house slaves, so she planned on having them whip one another in front of her regularly. If nothing else it would certainly save her arm from getting sore!
Much later in the evening, robbi, now ball-gagged and dressed in a tight rubber hobble skirt, carried a tray of drinks around to all the women. As if the hobble skirt wasn’t restrictive enough, her ankles were locked into shackles joined with a two-foot chain. V. warned robbi the chain had better not drag on her nice hardwood floors and mar them, forcing robbi to hobble with her ankles spread apart.
Much to the amusement of the women, more than a few times robbi had to be bent over the sofa and paddled when V. heard the distinct sound of chain hitting her floor. In fact she had delegated the task of monitoring robbi to one of her attendees, who very eagerly watched robbi like a hawk for any further mistakes… caressing the hard wooden paddle, just dying to use it on her!
Her latest conquest, known to them as just ‘the new boy’, knelt on the hardwood floor next to V., also gagged and with his wrists cuffed to his leather collar.
Gripping his hair, V. rested her other hand on his shoulder guiding him farther down on his knees. He moaned as he slid further onto the dildo suctioned cupped to the floor beneath him, and V. smiled with satisfaction.
“I’m so glad you surrendered yourself to me. You are going to experience a new kind of love from now on. One that we’ll both get much more from than you ever did with your boring old lifestyle. Welcome to your new existence as my chaste, obedient, worshipful and unquestioning slave.”
He groaned as she pushed him further down onto the fat dildo. Unsheathing a wicked, razor sharp knife from her belt, her held it up and turned to her friends.
“Now who what’s to watch the Director’s cut?” Her wicked glance at him left no doubt as to his fate… her eyes burned into him with lust and excitement!
—-
The guests had all left for the evening and V. had put robbi and her Drum to bed, then cleaned up his blood. She bound him for the night perched on the wooden horse in the corner of her bedroom.
“Drum”, she mused to herself, “is my heart, my love. He will forever be my adored fuck pet. robbi, my permanently chastised, sissified servant girl. This one… hmmmm. My pain pet. My crash-test puppet. ”
“Yes”, she smiled, having come to her decision. “That is what I will make from this one! Maybe I’ll eventually demote him to dog after a few years…”
In obvious pain, with his hands tightly cuffed behind his back, his legs straddling the hard, sharp edges of the beam, his penis bolted to the beam, his feet were pulled up behind him, and his body weight was impaling him onto the very large vibrator that violated his tender, tight ass.
His sensitive nipples were tightly and savagely clamped, and his breathing was heavy and labored as he tried to adjust to his situation, to find some way to bear the pain and pressure in his rectum, and make the cutting edges of the horse somehow less awful. It was perfect, from where she stood.
His mouth was gagged and taped. Although not apparent, she relished in the fact that she had stuffed two large turds in his mouth before taping it tightly shut, her special gift to him. Three pieces of duct tape made the perfect gag. One horizontal piece was applied across his lips, and then the second piece was applied at a slight angle from horizontal, and the third piece was applied at just the opposite angle. Although she could not see the tape, she knew that his mouth was securely fixed. The leather hood was laced and zipped in place from behind. The front flaps were open now over his eyes, nose and mouthhole, but soon would be zipped shut for the night.
The eye holes in the leather front piece revealed his widely open eyes. She could hear him struggle to breathe normally beneath the leather hood. He was swallowing the saliva, stimulated by the contents of his mouth as her precious gift to him slowly dissolved.
She felt the tingling between her legs, and the sense of satisfaction at bringing him right to the limits of his ability to cope. His limits had been stretched so far by now, and he was truly her total slave, a pain and humiliation slut, a permanently chaste cuckold.
She gently drew her fingers down to her delicate labia, and began to massage her swelling clitoris. She watched his eyes follow her fingers to her moist, swollen pussy. His penis begin to grow and swell inside its steel embrace, and she knew just how much it hurt as he became more and more aroused.
“I did this to him. I brought him to this abyss. He was mine for all time. I could do with him whatever I want.” She smiled as he writhed in agony. She put her wet fingers to the nasal openings in the hood. He drew in V.’s pungent scent desperately. It was the scent of pure sexual ecstasy. His penis throbbed, and the pain was surely unbearable. He was overwhelmed, and the torment and pleasure took over. V. could feel him quiver despite his rigid bonds.
“Goodnight, Baby,” she whispered softly. “Sleep tight.” she zipped up the front of the hood deftly, leaving him in total darkness, to concentrate on his pain and pleasure. “I will see you in the morning… I don’t need to work tomorrow, so we’ll have some more fun!” she said softly through the hood. Then she crawled into her bed to finish her satisfying her arousal one more time before falling into a contented sleep, dreaming of future nights when she would revel in two permanently chastized slave tongues working her over while she enjoyed her Drum’s ever hard and ready cock…
Thanks to the writings of Mias_Bitch, Betsy Anne West, and Throne!
There is no out
And this is how we get past Facebook censors! LoL! Click below;
https://xhamster.com/videos/there-is-no-out-blackmail-5187841
I’m coming. You won’t be.
If you don’t already know Ms. Renee Lane, author of Finding Love through Female Domination, she is a sadist. She truly revels in making men squirm and in torturing their minds. Case in point – for three days in a row she has posted writings about chastity; how every woman should make it a prerequisite for their future romantic partners, how male orgasms are merely a tool given by the Goddess to control men, how it turns her on to have the power to take them away at her whim. How she is going to discuss chastity with each of her ‘knights’ as she calls the men serving her in promoting her book and movie.
“Slowly I’m going to start tightening the screws on them. They will get to know the real me.”
Her sadistry is as effective as it is evil and brilliant. I dread opening Fetlife now for fear of seeing a red 1 on my message box. I envision her as the plague doctor inexorably coming to knock at my door. She has made it perfectly clear she is coming as she has deliciously drawn out our fear of her with post after post, all for her own cruel pleasure. Each new post adding to the steady drip, drip of the inevitable tide coming to drown us in our own submission to her pursuit of empowering women over men.
To be clear, I dislike being locked chastity. I do not wish to be put into chastity. I’ve written an entire treatise on why I don’t like chastity that was even quoted in Ms. Voltairine’s book 150 Years of Gynarchy …
and I know my protests will just make taking away my ability to have an orgasm all the more luscious for her.
“…you are on a slippery slope. Such behavior can sometimes be a gateway drug that may eventually lead you to become a initiate at the North American Queendom. It may already be too late for you.”
My hands are ice cold and I tremble in fear, because I know when her knock at my door comes, I won’t be able to deny her her sadistic pleasure. It is already far to late for me. I will buy a DreamLover remote controlled chastity device if she tells me it’s what she desires. I won’t give up my orgasms – she will take them. That is within her power. And what will become of the key… ?