Welcome Home

by MiaACTION

He promised Mia that he would be waiting at her doorstep every afternoon at 3 PM when she arrived home from work. During each encounter, he was expected to wear a t-shirt that simply read “WELCOME” in black, bold letters.

he was expected to be waiting patiently, splayed out on his back, ready to accept Her boots on his groin, torso and face. She explained to him that it was especially important that he was ready for Her on rainy days, to be sure that Her boots were properly cleaned before entering Her house. The rainy days were particularly unpleasant for him. If mud made its way into the crevices of Her boots, he was to use his tongue to dislodge it until the boots were licked clean.

Sometimes on days where She was particularly stressed, She would use Her doormat more aggressively. Commenting on how especially dirty her shoes became on the commute home from the office, She’d take Her time wiping Her feet against his slacks. If She was in a really fowl mood, She would take sadistic pleasure in stomping his testicles for good measure, putting her full weight on his stomach and jumping up and down.

She would tell him about all the mind numbing stupidity She was expected to put up with at the hands of Her male coworkers, who were, as she relayed to Her doormat, largely incompetent. She confided in him that She fantasized about fashioning a walkway beginning at the start of Her driveway, leading all the way to the front door, comprised of Her male colleagues. All the men who expected that She laugh at their cringe-inducing jokes. All the men who insisted that they are “huggers” and grab at Her with the emotional intuition of a goldfish, completely oblivious to the fact that Her face contorts with disgust any time one of them comes within five feet of Her. Every time She’s relegated to “coffee duty” or referred to as “honey,” she retreats wistfully into Herself, eager to arrive home and wipe her hands (and feet) clean of another degrading day at the office. She would count the minutes until She could use and abuse Her doormat. Doormats don’t tell jokes, give hugs, or talk back.

She would take great care to gleefully stomp on every single one of their diaphragms as She made Her way to Her coveted doormat. And finally, She would scrape the vitriol from the workday against the doormat’s teeth, and leave him outside, his business casual attire disheveled, with a mouth full of brown grit.

The Look

What do you see in her eyes? Fear? Absolute obedience in the face of humiliation and pain? Devotion to whatever Mistress asks of her? A strong desire to be pleasing? Intense focus on her Mistress’ actions?

And the Mistress, her master… relaxed in her absolute power? Pleasure? Amusement?

That’s it all in a nutshell for me.

The full video here .

THE VICTORY OF SURRENDER

We perceive that only through utter defeat are we able to take our first steps toward liberation and strength. Our admissions of personal powerlessness finally turn out to be firm bedrock upon which happy and purposeful lives may be built.

Emasculated for Mistress and Her Friend

by Mias_bitch

i was very fortunate to be loaned out to Mistress’s Friend last weekend to clean Her apartment while the two Ladies caught up and relaxed. my Mistress’s Friend enjoys sissies, so i dressed in a pair of pink panties, knee high white socks with red stripes, and a small pink crop top with string shoulder straps. i wore my leather collar and chastity cage as usual too, the latter making me feel all the more emasculated in my girlish attire.

On the way over Mistress placed an expensive sushi order that She had me pick up and pay for. A token of gratitude to Her and Her Friend for letting me serve, Mistress always has me treat Her Friends to lunch.

When we arrived my Mistress had me change into the outfit in front of Them to Her Friends delight, kneel, and lay out all my cleaning supplies before them. In the rush to come over that afternoon, I had neglected to bring toilet bowl cleaner, but had assumed Mistress’s Friend would have some. She did not, and as punishment had me stand up so She could give my Pink panties a wedgie before having me bend down to spank me on the ass. Once She was finished the two Ladies sent me on my way to clean the downstairs bathroom, while they dined on the sushi i bought.

For the first hour and a half I was largely alone. i could hear the two Ladies talking upstairs, and at one point Mistress’s Friend appeared behind me causing me to jump as i was scrubbing the floor. She told me to stay where i was and gave me a few spanks on the butt cheeks, before retrieving what She came down for an went back up.

When i finished, and came back upstairs, the Ladies permitted me a glass of water, and had me clean up their plates, before starting me in the kitchen while they continued conversing in the other room.

Domestic service for Mistress’s Friends was always like that, collared, naked or scantily dressed, ceaselessly toiling with little brake while the Women could be heard relaxing in some other room. i wasn’t there for play, or to make Them perform for me, i was there to be used. i was there to work, and to spoil Them. It wasn’t fantasy, They are empowered Women and i just a man to be used.

In those moments, working and alone i imagine what other men might think of me; locked in my cock cage and emasculated for the Ladies amusement. A tool doing all the Ladies housework without any reward but to be denied my manhood, mocked, teased, and used to buy things. What a pathetic little bitch i’ve been reduced to. So hot.

Once i had finished in the kitchen, i was permitted to dust the room the Ladies were in. Mistress’s Friend made a comment about checking out my butt, and They started having me arch my back for them as i bent to clean. At one point they had me show them my “bend & snap” laughing at my expense as they educated me as to what that was to my clumsy attempts.

When four hours had passed, and it was time to go, my Mistress’s Friend asked about rewarding me to which my Mistress responded that getting to buy Them sushi was reward enough. They had a good laugh, and i was permitted to kiss the Friends feet as a consolation.

Later that evening my Mistress informed me that Her Friend had sent Her a video of me dusting that She had taken. Her Friend, like my Mistress, is a ProDomme as well and She was posting the video on twitter as part of Her social media presence; letting all Her followers see what a good little bitch i was for them that afternoon.

Housebitch

Just an object to me.

Objectification is a kink of mine. One of the things that rolls through my mind when I see images like these is what torture and training went on before hand to convince the ‘victim’ to remain still and silent at all costs?

It is not just the slow simmering humiliation of just being used and ignored, but the slow painful torture of having to maintain a pose for a prolonged period in silence and obedience.

I have a punishment cage that feeds that kink in me. It is very small and being cramped in it slowly becomes torture…

(sorry the images are of bound women, but there are not a lot of images of men being used like this)

I love you so much

bygirlztoy2087866M sub

Waves of post-orgasmic bliss, gradually subsiding, washed over her body like a gentle sea. She gently extricated her arm from under her already sleeping lover’s neck. As always, Paul had been amazing. He started like a violinist, playing her body with infinite finesse. Paul could read, and even anticipate, her reactivity like none before. Gradually, reading her rising plateau, Paul would evolve into a thundering but exquisitely controlled stallion- he always made sure they climaxed together. She turned on her side and said, “I love you so much.” But she was talking not to Paul, but to the baby monitor transmitter on the nightstand.

Rising, she hunched a bit and, using her fingers, pinched her lips closed to retain as much of Paul’s three emissions inside her as possible and walked into the master bath. She closed the door and put the dimmer switch on low, opening the door to walk in closet. There she took in her husband. He was on his back on a padded piano bench, legs up at a 45 degree angle and fully spread, ankle cuffs tied off to cleats in the opposing walls. His wrist cuffs were clipped into eye bolts sunk into the side of the bench seat. His shoulders were looped to each other and tied off under the bench with a white silk sash. His pink chastity cage was where it had been for the past four weeks. His breathe through penis gag was secured with a little slack so that he could feel its glans move in his mouth. The lace trimmed black satin eye mask had assured no sensory distraction from what he heard through the headphones spliced into the baby monitor base unit. She removed the headphones, eye mask and penis gag.

Turning, she backed up and lowered herself over his waiting tongue. Elbows on knees, she hovered just above his mouth so he could clean her outside. He began with the broad sweeping tongue strokes he knew she liked. After a short while, satisfied that she was clean outside, she lowered herself onto his mouth and felt the scouring begin. “Do you like the taste of Paul’s semen? How does it make you feel to lick another man’s semen out of the love of your life?” She smiled, feeling the silent tears at the top of her inner thighs.

Slowly, the cleaning done, she could tell he was trying to pleasure her instead. “His little rebellion,” she thought to herself. “I really shouldn’t. But it’s feels so good.” She abandoned herself to the slowly rising crescendo before exploding in spasms of pelvic pleasure.

Recovering, she turned and sat again, facing his body, Taking the Magic Wand from the shelf she turned it on low and began lightly tracing his testicles. “Aw, poor thing, do your plump testes yearn to be emptied after four weeks?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tease you long. You have a big day tomorrow and need your sleep”

“Miss Patricia is bringing plaything over for one of the play dates i know you love so much. First, we’re going to have a morning of beauty and shopping. I’ve even picked out a special outfit for you to wear. The red and white seersucker shortalls- you know, the ones with the ruffled eyelet at the leg openings. Your white blouse with the pearl buttons, Peter Pan collar and the puffed, pleated cap sleeves with the button and tab cuff. And of course, ruffled anklets with your pink stack heeled Mary Janes. And underneath, I think your magenta panty and camisole set should show nicely through the blouse.

“We’ll start at my salon for fresh waxings and mani-pedi’s. And that cute receptionist just turned18 and is dying to finally be the one to unlock, remove and replace the chastity cages.”

“Then, it’s on to the mall. I’ve made arrangements at Nordtrom for you two to be fitted for lingerie in the bridal boutique in anticipation of the festivities to come. And then finally, you’ll each be getting a makeover at the MAC Counter. What a delicious morning. I’m sure you two will be just beaming at the attention, walking pinky-linked and exchanging chaste kisses.”

“When we get home, your stepdaughter, Kelly is bringing three freshman who were just initiated into Tri-Delt. They coming for a concert, but pausing for afternoon amusements on the way. And they are dying to play with you two. They’re bringing the Tri-Delt paddle which isn’t used at the House anymore, but promises to get a workout tomorrow. And what young woman would not relish the opportunity to experiment with a strap-on for the first time. Finally, Kelly said the Sisters were absolutely agog on learning about urethral sounding. Kelly says they can’t wait to do that to a nice, hard penis.”

“When playtime is done, it will be time for High Tea from our scantily uniformed french maids. Elle and Bree from your office will be arriving for tea. I had offered to let them watch on their phones, but when they heard what was coming, they begged so sweetly to be here, I couldn’t say no.”

“And finally, we come to the “climax” of our day of innocent fun. Miss Patricia and I agreed that it would be so special for you two, if the first you two had gay sex together, it was for the amusement of an audience of younger women. The freshmen will remove your maid uniforms and redress you both in your bridal lingerie. The guest room mattress with a black satin fitted sheet will be in the family. the black should show off your bridal frillies nicely and also denote any spilled semen that needs to be licked up. And after four weeks of chastity, the semen should be in more than ample supply. And you two will be recycling all of it. We’re going to let the younger women choreograph what you two do with each other but Miss Patricia and I will be standing by with rattans to ensure the proper sensuous enthusiasm for the video they’ll all be taking.”

“Sweety, lift your head so I can fit the CPAP over your mouth and nose. I filled it with urine this morning so it should be luxuriously stale by now. Now the headphones so our lovemaking can be your alarm clock. Paul will be good for at least two more loads which will make a yummy appetizer before your daily gruel.”

She closed the door, turned out the light and climbed back into bed. She turned to the baby monitor and whispered, “I love you so much.”

On Orgasm Denial.

I have the honor of having this post was quoted in the book 150 years of Gynarchy by the esteemed film artist and author Ms. Viola Voltairine! Pick up your copy today!

NOTE: This is currently a work in progress. I wanted to put it out incomplete as I develop my thoughts and writing on the topic however.

NOTE: Chastity (as enforced with a device of some sort and without any active teasing) has waned as an interest of mine, in equal measure to the growth of my interest in tantra & orgasm control and denial. My opinions on the matter is simply that, my opinion honed by decades of chastity fantasy and play. Please take them for what they are.

I’m going to start with a controversial statement that might upset any enlightened women reading this, but “Your power over me begins with my penis.” Note my emphasis on the word “begins“. More on that later. But like it or not, I am probably not going to crawl through the broken glass of a million shattered glass ceilings, I am not going to beg you to lick the filth from your boot heel, unless the feeling starts in my dick.

“Yes”, you may agree, “That’s why I lock men in chastity. To make them horny and through their horniness, compliant to me!” But at least for me, chastity diminishes my arousal almost completely. Perhaps it comes from months of experience being locked in a cage and ignored, but once I am my cock seems to know the futility of attempting an erection and doesn’t even try no matter what erotic thoughts I have. My mind, hence my desires, become mundane. The chastity, less a focus of eroticism, becomes a source of discomfort and annoyance. When I am uncomfortable, I am an eye-rolling grump about as far from a willing submissive as a guy can get.

If that is your goal, then by all means use chastity as a punishment. Not as a long-term means of control. Perhaps you think of it as a symbol of ownership. A irremovable collar or cock ring will could accomplish that as well, without the discomfort and energy sapping of a chastity cage.

Furthermore, chastity talk always revolves around the holy grail – the ultimate secure device. Why does it need to be secure? Because once you lock a man in one, his thoughts turn almost immediately to trying to get it off so he can stroke his almighty dick… our source of all pleasure. That means as soon as you put it on him and turn your back, his mind is occupied with sneaking a way out, lying and deceiving you, and subverting your express desire he not be uncaged. So you are now pressed into coming his vigilant jailer at great cost and energy to you.

Let me digress a bit here and express another opinion. A male slave in a commited M/s relationship should be a battery to a dominant woman, giving her far more energy than she puts into him. Tantric energy, mental stimulation/energy, actual physical energy through his working for you. I’m not advocating a one-sided power exchange, I’m saying that point of owning another human being is that they should empower you. If they are draining more or even equal amounts of energy, then that’s an egalitarian relationship in my opinion. Not an M/s one.

So back to the caged male, plotting his deception and escape. Lying to you and undermining your authority should be a game ender in my mind. If you don’t accept the authority you’ve willing submitted to, then what’s the point?

Enter Edging and denial. After a short amount of time, the caged male will become compliant and more obedient for sure, but not to you in my mind. He is focused on being nice to you to get the cage off! It’s just a transaction to him. His focus is on the discomfort of the cage and wanting to remove it, not really on you! You’ve just become an obstacle to his pleasure.

Let me ask you – in your experience, who is more willing to say yes to taking the garbage out for you? A.) Your husband, lying on the couch watching his favorite TV show or, B.) The guy whose hard dick is in your hand, being slowly stroked by you. Hmmm?

On an esoteric plain, a chastity cage prevents arousal, the spark that ignites tantric energy and whatever dribble (pardon the pun) of energy is there is completely blocked in the root chakra. Masturbating and edging allows the spark to ignite a bonfire of erotic energy and pumps it up and up through all the chakra points, pulsing and throbbing in beautiful energizing light. Which without permission to release that energy through orgasm, leaves it available. Available to pour into work, into giving orgasms (by that I mean by sex or by being the masochist to a sadist or whatever floats your dominant boat), into deeper submission.

And masturbation is an altered state. Yes. It is. Your breathing, the pattern of your blood flow, your musculature all change. The chemical makeup of your mind changes during masturbation. Dopamine and endorphins flood your synapses and open pathways that aren’t open during your normal day-to-day. And I would state even further, open your mind to powerful suggestion. Much like hypnosis. Think of edging as an induction!

If chastity says, “I won’t let you orgasm. Try and stop me.” Then edging and denial says, “We agree I am the power in this relationship and you will deny yourself orgasm because I wish you too. Because I desire your energy focused on me. Because it amuses me. Whatever, the point is you will willing sacrifice your basest male desire but you want to obey. Because you love the feeling of when your dominant taps into your battery of energy and uses you all up!

The carrot? Or the stick… ? Hmmm?

Chastity? Or frustrating edging & denial?

TO EXPAND ON IN THE FUTURE:

More on edging, alternate reality, and Maslow’s peak experiences

In Abraham Maslow’s famous hierarchy of needs, self-actualization is located at the very top of the pyramid, representing the need to fulfill one’s individual potential. According to Maslow, peak experiences play an important role in self-actualization.

Peak experiences are often described as transcendent moments of pure joy and elation. (Like reaching the edge of orgasm) These are moments that stand out from everyday events. The memory of such events is lasting and people often liken them to a spiritual experience. Other experts describe peak experiences in the following ways:

“Peak experiences involve a heightened sense of wonder, awe, or ecstasy.” “…a highly valued experience which is characterized by such intensity of perception, depth of feeling, or sense of profound significance as to cause it to stand out in the subject’s mind, in more or less permanent contrast to the experiences that surround it in time and space.”

Peak experiences bear numerous similarities to the concept known as flow described by positive psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Flow is a state of mind during which people become so involved in an activity that the world seems to fade away and nothing else seems to matter. When in a state of flow, times seems to fly by, the focus becomes sharp and people experience a loss of self-consciousness.

Flow can happen when a person is having a peak experience. Everyday moments such as becoming engrossed in a thrilling book, working on a satisfying project, or enjoying an afternoon game of basketball, (or edging at the command of a beautiful* woman) can all lead to a flow state.

*The woman controlling your sex IS the most beautiful woman in the world to you, trust me!

Idea: The ‘animal’ brain, frustrated in getting the response it has been trained to expect, will try more frequently at first, then look for other avenues of, in this case pleasure, leading to an expansion of erotic zones in the man.

Idea: Denial and religious aspects. Becoming his goddess. Ruling his heaven and his hell.

Idea: It is not a punishment or taking something away, it is a gift and honor – of being controlled and called mine. And it is my helping you remain focused on me so you never disappoint me.

Idea: chastity focuses his attention on his relief and pleasure. Sure he serves you in hopes of ‘getting some’, but with edging and orgasm denial you can brainwash him into you as his pleasure (edging) and not cumming as obedience to you. Obedience = Pleasure.

Idea: More fun – stroke puppet.

the Queendom. Decadence, Destruction and Success

(a fan fiction)

(8th century B.C. – Greece)

Homer, and much later the Romans, spoke of the fates. In some texts it was one Goddess, in others three. But in reality, two Goddesses determined human males’ destinies… in particular the span of a man’s life and his allotment of misery and suffering. These women spun the threads of male destiny. The allotter and the inflexible. Lachesis designed and dispensed it, and Atropos cut the thread, thus determining the individual male’s moment of death…

(Modern day – New Orleans, USA)

Of all the various premieres of Ms. Viola Voltairine’s film adaptation of Ms. Lane’s book “Finding Love through Female Domination”, the one to be held at the New Orleans DomCon would be the most momentous. It was to coincide with the announcement of the beginning of Ms. Lane’s long dreamt of North American Queendom.

(One year earlier…)

She giggled and let out a slight sigh of pleasure as his slippery tongue darted between her toes, searching out perspiration and removing it. She was loving the feeling his tongue was giving her as he worked away, like little electric pulses of pleasure. There he was, a gorgeous strong male completely submitting to her orders, worshiping her feet. She loved it. Eventually she had no choice and ordered him to stop and put her boots back on as she had work to do!

Just at that moment her phone rang. She recognized Renee’s number as she picked it up.

“Hi! Yes, I just wanted to give you an update on things. We’ve identified a dozen prospects so far. I’m just putting the finishing touches on their nightly training tapes and will be emailing them shortly. Yes, of course! I used a variety of hypnosis techniques. It should be very hard for them to resist! They will all be very obedient little drones come the next Con!” She giggled again as unbidden, the man beneath her started kissing his way up her boots. She kicked him aside. “No! I need to work. Now go clean the bathroom until I call for you!” Smiling to herself, she watch his firm, naked ass as he left the room. “Oh, it was just the new boy. I’m giving him a try out. We’ll seee…”, she continued.

Hearing Viola send her boy to clean the bathroom, Renee looked out her own window at Butler on his hands and knees, clipping the grass with the grass clippers Renee had given him. “Yes. I love watching a man worked to exhaustion whilst we lounge in comfort for entertainment Ha Ha! We toy with them and give them false hope , it’s so much fun!” She smiled malevolently, thinking of what more she would do with him later.

After chatting a while longer Viola hung up the phone feeling even more energized. She always did after she and Renee discussed their plans for the future! She just might have to press the new boy into some… extra use later, she smiled as she put her headphones back on and restarted the recorder –

“… you must work very hard trying to impress women. You must become a mindless, primed drone in service to women. We are going to help you. This extended trance will help you crush your false male ego. Your selfishness. It robs you of your one true love, obedience to women. That is what you need to feel whole. You exist only as an extension of women, Women will rule you. The more selfless you are, the more aroused you will feel. Obedience is pleasure. You were never meant to think for yourselves, that is being selfish. Male selfishness is disobedience. You must come to feel we are always watching you, judging you, controlling you...”

She spoke into the microphone for over an hour. She knew from experience it would be very hard for any man to resist her silken, siren’s voice.

(Back to our present…)

If ever there was a focal point of female power & sexual energy, it had to be DomCon. Literally hundreds of dominant women – and their slaves – gathered for one extended weekend each year.

This year, a conference room had been set aside… set up like a throne room. Two magnificent, ornate chairs stood on a stage at one end of the room. A large whipping cross with leather restraints stood at the other. Wire dog crates, lined one wall between the two. The cages had been purchased and their delivery arranged by the very men who would soon occupy them.

A dozen male submissives had been issued personal invitations to attend the festivities surrounding the event. Men who had become devoted to Ms. Voltairine, Ms. Lane and their cause, and who had shown their usefulness and obedience to one or both of the women. Each one of the nine men who ultimately accepted the invitation were issued a collar in advance through the mail and told they must wear it at all times during the convention, unless a woman removed it.

Each of these powerful women’s sycophants were further instructed to bring with them a full hood and to be wearing their chastity device. In the months leading up to the event, more mundane instructions followed such as having a complete STD test and negative Covid test performed, and documentation of such brought with them. The instructions saw to it that each of the men were continuously performing what could only be described as religious purification – complete chastity, fasting days, hours of meditation, Ms. Voltairine’s nightly hypnosis recordings, required exercise and weight loss… The requirements were strict and lengthy. Failure to obey meant dismissal from the event. Their bodies were to be scrupulously clean and scentless. They were not to eat or drink for the 24 hours before presenting themselves. The women ensured that the hard bodied men they had created over the past year would be hungry in more ways than one!

The opening day of the convention finally arrived. It had seemed like an eternity for these men since they had first accepted their invitation! When each one arrived, a smiling young woman at the reception desk handed them a card directing them to proceed immediately to the conference room. “If other worshipers have arrived before you, you will not speak to them. You will remain completely silent while adding yourself to the cage next to the one before you. You will be monitored for obedience”. In the conference room, a webcam set up on a table to observe them watched silently.

The instructions continued, “You will take a name tag from the table and write the name of your home city, ‘Chicago’,’New York’,’LA’, etc. on the tag. Place it on the front of your cage.” Flipping the small card over, the instructions continued, “You will now strip down to just your collar and chastity cage. Place your clothes into your suitcase and leave it in one corner of the room with any others you see there.”

“Now crawl into your cage. Place your hood over your face and head. Wait silently.”

Above the two thrones, a large screen television looped a video over & over.

“Listen to me carefully slave. You are a slave. You want to be a slave. You must be a slave. You have to be a slave. You will be a slave…”

Meanwhile, in a opulent suite of the same hotel a large group of women relaxed, laughing and talking, eating and drinking, while on the large screen before them, the events of the conference room played out. These women had volunteered to support the Queendom once it was built by becoming guest Mistresses or volunteering time as wardresses, trainers, doctors, or psychologists for the male prisoners. One woman had gleefully volunteered to watch the screen for any male who disobeyed any of the instructions even in the slightest and record it. They would be punished later by her personally… much to her delight!

“You want to live in a world ruled by women…you like powerful women… powerful women turn you on…” The video in the conference room droned on and on.

“Women are powerful, women are goddesses. Women are better than men. Women are superior to men…” The men who had arrived early had already heard the video’s message over and over.

“…you must obey women. you must listen to women….“

Images of men on their knees kissing a woman’s boot or heels flashed on the screen.

“…you will encourage women to become more powerful…”

“…good boys are attentive. good boys are considerate trustworthy. Selfless. Caring. Affectionate. Subservient. Submissive. Obedient… Polite Respectful. You want to be a good boy. You need to be a good boy. You will be a good boy…”

More images of men standing in front of what was obviously their female bosses’ desk, head bowed, repeated in many versions.

“Goddess worship is spiritual. God is a woman. You will worship women…”

Men prostrating themselves in Sajdah position, praying before a beautifully gowned woman replaced the workplace images…

Without warning, the doors to the conference room swung open and Ms. Lane & Ms. Viola strode in, followed by Butler, Drum and robbi on leashes behind them, all with their heads bowed. They were dressed to thrill and cock after cock grew hard in the tight restrictions of their cock cages.

As they strode down the length of cages they playfully running their manicured fingers softly along the bars smiling before stepping onto the stage and seating themselves on the two thrones. Butler knelt to one side of Ms. Lane’s seat, robbi and Drum to the other next to their owner, Ms. Voltairine.

“Welcome slaves. You may crawl out of your cages and kneel here before us. Be quick about it!”, Ms. Lane commanded. Once they where all kneeling before the two women, Ms. Voltairine continued.

“This is a temple of Women. You will remain in silent and on your handsand knees at all times in respect to the women present and in contemplation of your misfortune at being born a male. Bow to us. Place your foreheads on the floor we walk upon.”

They both smiled huge grins as the men complied. They knew the show was being observed by the women in the suite above.

They continued, “Your fates are now sealed. You have a limited number of options left before you. You are to be auctioned off. Whatever price is bid for you by the winner, will be paid by you to the new North American Queendom. If you do not have enough money to pay, then she will work you and collect your pay until you have made good your debt to us.”

Her malevolent smile widened as she continued. “Once your debt to the Queendom is paid, you will then pay her an equal amount for bothering with you. You are her property and all your earnings go to her until all your debt is paid.”

“She will be the sole decider on how much of your earnings you will be permitted to survive on and be able to continue to work, and she alone will decide your living arrangements – with her – or in a small apartment she will allow you to maintain while you work off your debt. Her decisions are final. You will not be permitted any further choices. You will be hers until your debts to all of us are settled.”

“Think hard. This is the last free choice some of you will be permitted ever again. If, for any reason, you cannot submit yourself to this, you may place a sign on your cage that reads, ‘I am a worthless male who cannot obey women properly. Please beat me.'”, she gestured to a stack of cards on the table. “If you are willing to submit yourself to us, select the sign which reads ‘I am but a slave. It is my pleasure to serve.’ and place it on your cage. No questions! You have 5 minutes to decide. Collect a card and padlock from the table then back to your cages and lock them shut!”

Each man chose his fate. Some were truly fit to be servants of women having long ago made the choice. Others, seeing it as a hot game, also made their choice. Some knew themselves well enough to know what they were able and not able of doing. Though powerfully influenced by Ms. Voltairine’s hypnotic training tape, each man drew upon his life experiences, his desires and wants, and knowledge of his own limitations to decide and chose their card.

Five minutes later they were back in their cages, a sign on each. Of the nine men, three had demurred and had labelled themselves as worthless. Six had accepted to be auctioned off.

On the stage before them, Ms. Voltairine stood imperiously. Her slave Drum crawled to her and at her bidding, lowered her panties using only his teeth. robbi crawled to her holding an ornate gold and crystal bowl. He knelt, head down, and held the bowl between her thighs.

She smiled at the men in cages as the hiss of her peeing into the bowl was heard. As you have each starved yourselves as commanded and are weak. I will permit you to partake of my nectar and power as a sign of your obedience and to strengthen yourselves for what is about to happen to you! Worship Women for all we give you!” robbi worked her way down the line of cages dipping a small copper cup into the ornate bowl and passing it through the bars of each man’s cage for him to drink from. Ms. Voltairine proclaimed, “Let this be the first of many rituals you will come to crave and to love as a slave of the Queendom!”

Brigette, the woman who had watched the men for mistakes as they arrived, entered the room with two other Amazonian beauties. A single tail whip hung from her belt and she held a cane in one leather gloved hand. “You, you and you,” She pointed to three slaves. “You disobeyed the orders of a woman upon your arrival. Now you will be disciplined!” A huge smile spread across the sadistic young woman’s face…

The first slave dragged from his cage and strapped tightly to the cross. Brigette began to enthusiastically whip him hard, drawing tears and pleas for mercy from him. He was one of the slaves who had agreed to be auctioned. “you’d better learn to love this shit bitch.. I’m going to buy you and it’s going to happen to you for the rest of your life! I swear I get so fucking hot when i do the nastiest things to you little cunts! I can’t help it! Everything from here on will be degrading and painful for you!” She swung back the evil whip and it hissed through the air and struck his shoulders bringing another scream of pain from him. “Oh, I am only getting started with you!” Brigette laughed. “This will teach you to think for yourselves and disobey your superiors!” One of the Amazons dug her spiked heel into the back of the second disobedient slave as he waited his fate, watching him squirm beneath her.

Each one of the three suffered Brigette’s rath before being returned to their respective cages. Some of the women upstairs watched excitedly, while others had left to the privacy of their own rooms to prepare for the evening, many of them with personal slaves in tow. By and large they had been aroused by the events so far and made good use of their men before being bathed & dressed for the night’s main event.

The men in the cages had witnessed the discipline of the three errant slaves in silence, fearful of being added to Brigette the disciplinarian’s list. Not one dared to draw attention to themselves by saying a word.

Brigette’s handiwork done, the rest of the women poured into the room. Every woman so very different! Some in fetish gear and model thin, others in street wear… looking almost mousy and ordinary. Others in elegant evening wear, even period gowns. Large women, african-american, asiain… hair buzzed short, others long and luxurious like it had been combed 1,000 times. Which it had by their personal servant just an hour ago.

“Welcome to all the women here tonight! We are all here to bear witness to the advent of a revolution! We women assembled here tonight are the future!” Began Ms. Lane. The women burst into cheers! “Tonight is the FIRST annual slave auction of the North American Queendom!” They applauded wildly. An almost animalistic cheer went up and a rhythmic buzz seemed to fill the room. Some banged on the cages around them. Without exception, the caged and hooded men trembled and were very afraid of what these women would do to them!

“You have all been briefed on the terms of the auction. What you bid is for the men to pay!” The auction begins at $20,000!” The men in the cages went white! They did not know they would be expected to pay so much! Most all of them did not have that kind of money and it would take a long time to earn it! Add to the fact that it would be doubled! Once in payment to the Queendom and once more to the woman who bought them, they would be enslaved and worked for years!

“We may have neglected to mention to these men that if they cannot pay immediately at the close of bidding, the amount owed will of course be subject to interest. But we are only fair. The interest rate is set at twenty percent!” All the women burst out laughing, poking the men through the bars of their cages. “Sorry you weren’t informed before hand, but us women must have some secrets from you boys now, don’t we? It is a women’s prerogative after all… and now a woman’s world!

Before we begin the auction, we will deal with the failures who think being sold is not for them! One by one, the men who placed the “I am a worthless male..” sign on their cages were let out and made to crawl to the cross at the far end of the room, being kicked, spanked & cropped by a gauntlet of amused women along the way. Volunteers were called upon to see that each was beaten to tears and forced to beg for mercy. They where told to gather their suitcase from the corner and be gone, thrown naked out into the hallway.

Once the last ‘failure’ was released, Ms. Lane stood back on the stage and announced, “Six male slaves remain! Let the bidding begin!”

One by one the cages were opened, the men bound with cuffs and shackles were placed around their ankles and they were lead with a leash to the stage to be auctioned off to a room full of eager, fully dominant women feeling every molecule of their new power. They positively glowed!

The Queendom made almost $750,000 dollars that night. Six soon to be wealthy, well catered to women left the conference room that night, their new acquisitions – men who would spend the remainder of their lives in service to them and the Queendom – in tow.

The rest of the conference had a chance to see the movie premiere the following night, and had heard rumors of the Queendom and of what had happened in the conference room the night before. Suffice it to say, Ms. Lane, Ms. Voltairine and five other women all had at least one man under their feet during the movie lavishing their feet and shoes with kisses.

The convention drew to a close and Monday morning found Ms. Lane and Ms, Voltairine saying their good byes in the hotel parking lot. A bound and gagged man lay in the trunk of Ms. Voltairine’s car as her personal slaves, Drum and robbi packed their suitcases around him. She smiled down at her new slave. The first of many more to come. “What is next for you then?”, Renee asked. Ms Viola smiled and closed the trunk, “I’m off to film my next movie. And you?”

Ms Lane looked at Butler who stood silently at her side, eyes down. “I’m retiring! After a rest in Florida with Heather and suzie, I’m collecting our new slave fortune and am off to start the NAQ!” She said with a snap of Butler’s leash. “Say goodbye to Ms. Voltairine boy! This may be the last you ever see of her! Or anyone ever again for that matter. I have a deep hole waiting for you…” She thought about the deep whole she had had dug in the basement of the mansion she had selected for the NAQ that Butler would be locked in for the next few weeks… at least. She had a tv screen bolted to the wall that showed a live feed of her bedroom where she intended to entertain some very young and virile men very soon.

The sun felt good and warm on their skin and both women smiled with pure pleasure. Being a sadistic Goddess of men was good!

Brainwashing

Hypnosis file

This audio file below is designed for repeated use. After the opening minute or so, it reinforces the ideas of service, submission to, and worship of women. It plants a desire to serve and work towards the concepts of female supremacy and matriarchy in the world. It’s intent is to slowly brainwash the listener into being unable to disobey women and to happily and willingly do anything they ask of you.

Nightly Hypnosis Recording

Shut up and Work!

I apologize Ms Lane for my whining about my feelings.

To remind myself to just shut up and work, I packed my mouth with sponge, zipped a discipline hood into place and listened once again to my brainwashing recording reminding me women are my superiors and I must serve women.

I know this is just indulging my own male fantasies and useless to you, but I hope it also makes you smile at how very easily you can control weak men like me.

I will redouble my efforts to be pleasing to women.

I am a slave. It is my privilege to serve.

North American Queendom

For Ms Lane – near Atlanta, Georgia. Stately, rich, elegant accommodations for the women, barn and stalls for the slaves with land that could be farmed for the women’s food.

The main foyer has a distinctly female shape, subliminally reminding all who enter where all power originates.

Huge property to prevent interruption from prying eyes, (or escape?), and outdoor activities like horseback hunting of male slaves. The long portico at the far end of the garden looks ideal for ceremonies (or executions?)