The Sponge

by Kritenswhips

The room was lit by a ring of candles around the rim of the large sunken tub and shadows on the walls danced mockingly to the flickering flames. A glass of Madeira was placed by the edge and it, too, seemed to move sensuously along with every light draft which wafted the flames, tiny pricks of reflection in it’s curve. It was the perfect place to relax, to slough off the stress of the day, drowning it in the scented bubbly warm water.

The Sponge remembered little of it’s capture. Just the sudden pungent cloth over its face, arms pinioned, strong male members flailing and kicking out sadly for less than a minute before unconsciousness. It remembered nothing of the trip in the windowless van and only awakened a long time later immobilized and fitted out for it’s one-time use with an overlarge sponge gag in its mouth. A splash and its mind was occupied with keeping its nose out of the water while toes clenched on the slippery floor of the tub, trying to maintain any buoyancy possible so that its head would stay above the surface. There it bobbled, neck craned achingly, sponge thrust in the air and nostrils flared to take in oxygen. The door clicked, a crack of light. She entered and touched a switch. Music filled the air. Stravinsky. The Sponge turned to look as She slipped into the tub with a sigh.

After a brief preamble of wine there was no delay. The Sponge was plunged under the water and held there by Her feet, thighs, buttocks, again and again until it learned that it must move its head back and forth the better to scrub away all the dirt, all the stress, of the day. Its lungs burned and it strained over and over again against the bonds but it could only reach the surface for a brief moment of air before it was pulled down to another spot, sometimes slowly, gently, as under the calves, sometimes roughly and with force, Her nails digging into its scalp as She grasped its hair and scrubbed the bottoms of Her feet, the crack of Her buttocks and back. Each time its sponge-filled mouth must move to Her whim, back and forth until She was satisfied. Then and only then was it allowed to bob back to the surface for a brief gasp of air and a strangled squeak before being soaped and sent under again. Panic began to set in and the squeaks became more pleading, the netted muscles flexed more desperately, but nothing must stop the bath which continued to the muffled splashing and the strains of the violin.

“Here. Now, here.”

The sponge sensed a change in the approach to the quivering V of Her inner thighs. It twisted away but was pushed down between them by two hands, perfectly arched feet holding the ball that was once a man. Its lungs burned insanely.

“And here. Yes. Yes. There!”

Sponge twisted its head and kicked what little it could but the motion only worked to further Her scrubbing action. It was brought up for one more breath of air and soaping and then thrust down to where the V came to a point.

“I want to keep you for another time Sponge but..but..I have to..have to..”

Her body arched.

Orgasm. Orgasm…………Bubbles.

Orgasm……………. Bubbles.

OrgasmOrgasmOrgasm.

She lay back in the tub gasping sweet air and grasped the wine glass with trembling fingers. In the water at the other end, a dark shape among the piled suds, a used spongs floated quietly.

She stood, water slipping in tiny rivulets over her perfectly clean body.

Her bath was over.

The Mermaid

Atldomdiscrete

The wall was thick and pellucid, merely hinting at the reflection of crystal, the flash of the camera, a splash of color reflected from the wet circular rim of a cocktail glass. Laughter shattered against its cold, unfeeling flatness, to be swept into receptacles by the shuffling minions of those who had created this special environment, this crucible of glass and water, passion and pain.

The breasts of the mermaid were splashed against the glass wall, round and desperate, almost comical, moving up and down but without the squeegee sounds one might expect. The thump of the dance music drowned any specific noise that could have made it through the liquid medium of the tank and the heavy glass wall stopped anything else. The round aureolas measured themselves in pink-brown rings, centered in the still more pink balloons which pressed desperately against the unforgiving surface of the tank. Well manicured hands printed vertically, once, twice, pulling upward and with a kick of her tail the Mermaid reached the third air hose. Her lips closed around it and she began breathing again, if only for a few moments. The stem of the hose was only an inch of projection and she had to force her face against the glass to breathe. The spectators clapped.

‘Please help me! Please get me out!’

The plea came through the pipe as a garbled unintelligable prayer. The Mermaid slipped an inch and undulated her ass frantically to maintain her position near the breathing tube. Her legs, tied and locked cunningly into an impossibly tight green-scaled suit which fit just below her navel, kicked three times in rapid succession, using the lift from the false tail to keep her in place fifteen feet above the floor of the tank. Tall green fronds waved in time with her kicks giving the whole scene a surreal poignance heightened by the coral, rocks and other objects usually seen in a much smaller fish tank. Her hair, dark in the greenish light of the aquarium, floated behind her as she slid her hands higher up the glass to keep positioned. Her face was a mask of existential pain.

‘OhGodPleaseHelpMe!’

A short series of beeps preceded the whirr and click of machinery as the small pump slowed the flow of air through the tube. This allowed for the maximum emotional reaction, something appreciated by the crowd. Everything had been cunningly designed for the best aesthetic effect. Spectacles such as this allowed the winners of the world to relax, breathe deep, and enjoy the privelige of something approaching a personalized stress receptacle, albeit an abstract one, in which to dump the daily cares of the day.

Another click and a smug sucking sound signaled the cessation of air through the tube and the Mermaid felt, once again, the burning panic and frustration beginning in her loins, deep below the navel. The human portion of the mind stripped away once again she became the panicked fish-creature that her Owners willed her to be, the animal sensibilities taking over every portion of humanity.

‘Please let me breathe! You can’t do this to me!’

The mermaid pressed her body in a pathetic attempt to push through the glass, pressing her curvaceous body, breasts and hips, against the smooth surface over and over with the pathetic intensity of a rejected lover. Her fists pounded several times as her lips rounded into an O of pleading.

She now had an indeterminate time to wait for one of the other four airtubes, placed at various heights along the vertical surface of the aquarium wall, to begin bubbling precious life into her liquid hell. She fought down the panic and once again explored the surface of the tank. The lid was shut tight as before with no pocket of air. She kicked down towards the bottom eying the airtubes with increasing angst.

Of course when she was placed in the tank, minutes before the party began, she used the precious seconds between air cycles to try to remove the fishtail but her efforts were in vain. Her legs were bound tightly in layer upon layer of rubber wrap, having been tied securely. Fortunately she was a good swimmer and the humiliating tail actually gave her the impetus to move through the water like a fish. No one had told her the details of her predicament so when she realizewas no available air she had kicked back and forth across the tank, begging the assembling guests to release her. Her horror had only been amplified when she realized that she was one of the freak-show features of the evening, designed to titillate the guests and magnify the sadistic streak of shadenfreud which lies dormant in everyone but which was fanned to life quite easily in the assembled crowd of underground devotees of the bondage and discipline lifestyle.

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.

Kathryn’s boy

by Farfallen

It was about a mile walk from my apartment block to the city centre. An enjoyable journey through a small, safe park and along wide tree-lined streets. In the day time, when the weather was fair, that was. But it was early December, the sky was clear of cloud cover and the night was more than a little chill. Actually, scratch that. It was fucking freezing. My breath gusted visibly from my mouth, my cheeks and ears were starting to sting, and my fingers to numb.

Still, it would all be worth it when I reached the restaurant where Kathryn was midway through her Friday night date. Why? Because tonight my penis would finally be released from its cage after two whole months of chastity – that’s why!

I had barely made it through my first tortuous Locktober when Kathryn had cruelly and unexpectedly thrust No Nut November on me, laughing at the shocked expression on my face and my pitiful attempts to protest as she prescribed me with yet another month of chastity.

‘It will do you good,’ she had chortled as I had knelt nakedly before her. ‘Besides, you made it through one month. Another month should be easy. Plus, it genuinely does make sex feel better knowing that you’re being deprived. You do want my sex to be as good as it can be, don’t you?’

‘I…uhh…I…of course,’ I had stammered from the floor, a watery fluid leaking from the tip of my cage.

‘Then it’s settled,’ Kathryn had smiled, looking down at me from where she was perched at the edge of her bed.

She had then spread her legs, revealing that she wore no panties beneath her skirt.

‘Now crawl to Momma and make yourself useful, cuck,’ she had demanded. ‘It’s only fair that one of us should get to cum.’

My disappointment at not being released forgotten, I had rushed forwards on my hands and knees and buried my face into Kathryn’s clean, waxed pussy.

That had been more than a month ago now. Thirty-five days to be exact, but other than a swollen-balled, leaky-dicked me who’s counting?

Kathryn had been right. The second month had been easier than the first, but I honestly didn’t think I could have lasted a third. My dick was drooling day and night. I was waking up to sticky sheets most mornings. I was distracted at work, in a constant state of arousal, my achy balls always at the forefront of my mind.

Kathryn’s teasing had been tortuous too. Messaging me pictures of her in sexy lingerie, pre-date. Calling me post-date, waking me at two or three in the morning to speak huskily, drunkenly, down the phone. Telling me about all the things she and her date had just done. Fingering herself to yet another climax before hanging up and leaving me in a desperate, sleepy, lust-filled haze.

It was worse whenever I was summoned to her home. She would strap a dildo to my face and ride the girthy toy forcefully, moaning with pleasure as her pussy juices coated the silicone length and as her feminine scent overwhelmed me. Other times she would have me worship her sex for hours, taking handfuls of my hair and mushing my face roughly against her, slipping and sliding her wet pussy aggressively across my face, using me as her human toy. On other occasions she would plug my ass with a vibrating toy, catching the watery threads of semen which inevitably leaked from my penis on a tablespoon and feeding me in the same way a mother feeds her baby.

‘Open wide…here comes the choo choo!’ she would mock as I was made to consume my own seed.

Then there were the times she would call me over simply to hand me a long list of chores, before heading out to her Mercedes and driving away for…well, who knows what? She didn’t explain herself to me she just told me to ‘be a dear’ or to ‘be a good cuck’ or ‘a doll’ or ‘a darling’ and make sure everything was perfect by the time ‘Momma’ got back.

Worst of all (or maybe best of all, depending on your point of view), was when Kathryn had me knelt naked at the foot of her bed, the vibrating butt plug deep in my ass, whilst she lay spread-legged on the duvet, pleasuring herself with her vibrator and really letting her oh-so-evil imagination run wild.

‘How do you think I should let you cum when I finally release you,’ she said one time, between her moans and sighs as she writhed on the bed.

‘M-maybe you could let me hump your leather boots or leggings again?’ I had ventured hopefully in remembrance of the times she had had me do just that.

Kathryn had laughed.

‘No, I don’t think so. Leather’s too kind. You’ll enjoy it too much. Maybe I’ll get you to fuck a cheese grater instead,’ she had said, shocking me even as she let out a blissful sigh.

‘Or an onion…’

‘I’ll slice one in half and rub the pieces all over your eyes then watch you cry as you fuck another like a fleshlight.’

‘Or maybe I’ll buy a blow-up doll and have you fuck it in front of my friends…’

‘Or even one of my dates.’

‘I’ll have you fuck it in the same position he fucks me. First one to blow has to slurp up their own cum…’

‘How long do you think you’ll last after two months caged?’

‘Have you ever eaten your own cum in front of a hot stud before?’

‘Do you think he would find it funny?’

‘Do you think he would laugh?’

‘Do you think he would want to see you lick his cum from me when he finally filled my cunt with his big sticky load?’

Kathryn had me whimpering and shaking like a leaf, my dick-tip drooling an endless stream of slime as she reeled off the horrific and humiliating things she would like to do to me, all the while moaning and gasping and bringing herself to orgasm with her own sadistic imaginings and the softly buzzing toy.

Most of what she said was too farfetched to believe she would ever have me do, but Kathryn saying it still conjured up the awful imagery of it happening, and it drove me wild just to hear her utter the pleasure-steeped words as she lay there, moaning on her bed. Just to know that Kathryn had such thoughts and fantasises about me scared and aroused me to an insane degree, and had me tossing and turning late at night, my head filled with masochistic ideation, my cock straining painfully against its cage, my fingers eventually plunged deep into my asshole as I sought some kind of relief.

All in all, it had been a difficult two months of chastity, but as the end of November had neared and December loomed inevitably ahead, I had started to feel a swell of pride at my achievement and an increasing excitement at my now imminent release.

I had been expecting some sort of ceremonial uncaging on the first of December, just like we had had planned for the first of November, before Kathryn had changed her mind. However, the first day of advent came and went without any mention of my cage coming off. In fact, I hardly heard from Kathryn at all during the first working week of December.

We don’t live together, of course. And we’re not together per say even though Kathryn calls me her cuck. In truth, although Kathryn is a massive part of my life, I know that I only play a cameo role in hers. Therefore, it wasn’t rare for us to not have contact for a few days at a time. Usually when that happened, I just got on with my life, thinking about Kathryn often, always ready to be at her beck and call, but all in all, managing to get by until she saw fit to get in touch. This time, however, it was torture.

At first, I thought that Kathryn had simply lost track of time and didn’t realise that my chastity period was meant to be over. She was a busy woman with a demanding job and had a private and personal life outside of what we had together after all.

With this in mind I picked up my phone and typed out a tentative and timid reminder, only to delete it again and scold myself for being so stupid.

Of course, Kathryn knew that November was over. Of course, she knew what the date was. She had important meetings with important people every day, she travelled regularly to see clients, her schedule was packed, every day was meaningful and unique. There was simply no way that Kathryn would be able to keep all of her myriad appointments and commitments without knowing the date!

Kathryn knew. Of course, she knew. She was testing me. Toying with me. Torturing me intentionally with her absence and with her silence about me still being caged. The worst thing was, I was powerless to do anything at all about it. I knew that Kathryn would not be rushed, and that if I caved-in and brought up my release from chastity I would be falling into some trap or other (and maybe even find my chastity period increased!).

So, there was nothing I could do but wait. And wait. And wait as the week went on. Wait with nothing on my mind but my aching balls, my imprisoned penis, and the increasing frustration and sense of unfairness I felt at still being caged.

Monday turned to Tuesday, and Tuesday to Wednesday, and then it was Thursday, and then I was leaving the office for the weekend with no word from my keyholder at all. Then, finally, midway through my Friday night takeaway with the Premier League’s early weekend fixture being played out on the box in front of me, I received a series of sudden text messages from Kathryn.

Tonight’s date is SO hot, cuck.

Fuck. I can’t wait to get him in my bed.

WALK TO THE RESTAURANT NOW.

Hurry up.

Momma’s in a good mood.

Gonna unlock you.

I stared at the messages, heart pounding, when another came fizzing in.

Quick bitch, before I change my mind, Kathryn had sent.

On my way! I replied as quickly as I could, leaping to my feet.

I didn’t even take the time to throw my bhuna out. Just dumped the tray onto the kitchen counter, turned off the TV, forced my feet into a pair of scruffy, still-laced sneakers and darted out of the door.

I would have run to the restaurant had Kathryn not specified for me to walk. I didn’t want to risk Kathryn not releasing me just because I hadn’t followed her instructions to the letter. (Incidentally, Kathryn had once asked me to run to the shop to pick up a bottle of Prosecco, and I had found myself over her knees and being severely spanked with an old slipper because I had strolled leisurely to the local newsagent rather than running, as I had been instructed.) So, I walked, but I walked as quickly as humanly possible, feet thundering down against the ground as I sucked the piercingly cold night-air into my lungs, unceremoniously overtaking others in my haste to get to Kathryn.

Outside, I sent, panting, and with a small stitch in my side when I reached the restaurant Kathryn had pinned in her WALK TO THE RESTAURANT NOW message.

It was an upmarket Italian establishment that I had never been to but that I knew was held in high esteem in our town. It was a place for couples, and as I never seemed to be part of a couple, I doubted I would find myself in there any time soon. Unless, of course, Kathryn was to order me inside now for my unlocking…

Surely, she wouldn’t do that though…

Not right in front of her date.

Not right in the middle of the restaurant.

Not in public…

…surely?

I felt a blush rise to my face that had nothing to do with the cold. I suddenly felt self-conscious, loitering outside the expensive restaurant in the jeans and hoody I had been lounging around my flat in, and with my shabby sneakers and messy hair, whilst chatting couples and groups strode by in smart dress shoes and high-heels, pea coats and fashionable faux-fur and leather jackets.

I felt like an imposter in this part of town. Like everybody would know at a glance that I had no business being here. Even if I could afford the prices, nobody would want to accompany me to any of the swanky restaurants or bars in the area.

Luckily, I wasn’t felt in limbo for very long as my phone quickly vibrated as I received another message from Kathryn.

Wait in the alley, bitch, she wrote and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was desperate to be released but probably not desperate enough to pull my pants down in the middle of a crowded, couple-filled restaurant!

I entered the alleyway which separated the Italian and its French bistro neighbor. Rather than lurking right at the entrance, I headed around ten feet inside, trying to make myself less visible from the street. I stopped by a fire exit and leant back against the wall, staring down at my phone in an effort to look busy in case any of the passing restaurant, bar or party-goers glanced my way. I hoped that I’d be taken for an employee on a break, rather than a kinky alley pervert waiting to get his cock uncaged.

There was a pair of big metal dumpsters a little further into the alley that I could have concealed myself behind, but I could already smell food waste and garbage from where I was, and I was pretty certain that Kathryn wouldn’t appreciate having to pass them to get to me. I just had to hope she would unlock me in as discreet a way as possible and that nobody would be passing at the wrong time.

Either way, I couldn’t wait to be out of my cage. Being unceremoniously unlocked in a dirty alleyway before Kathryn rushed back to her hot date, wasn’t exactly what I had been hoping for, but it sure as hell was better than staying locked indefinitely. As soon as I got home, I was going to jerk myself silly fantasizing about Kathryn and a perfect alpha hunk fucking each other’s brains out for sure. Afterwards, I would load up some femdom porn, get myself hard again, and masturbate all night long. All weekend long if I wasn’t interrupted!

To be honest, I couldn’t wait. I needed to feel my balls knotting powerfully beneath me again. I needed to feel hot loads of cum ripping up through my dick and jetting out in manly bursts, instead of the constant emasculating dribbles I had experienced over the past two months. There was still a faint hope that Kathryn might supervise an orgasm out here in the alleyway, an idea that both thrilled and terrified me, but if her date was as hot as she said he was, I doubted that Kathryn would want to be away from him for very long on my account.

Either way, I couldn’t dwell on it any longer because I heard footsteps entering the alley from the street. Heels, clip-clopping towards me.

Finally!

Kathryn.

I only hoped that she wasn’t in one of her more sadistic moods and that she was still feeling generous enough to unlock me!

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

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?)

LOCKtober Challenge

Most of you don’t believe in the Goddess. You will not swear to Her. It’s unscientific. However, there is something mysteriously powerful about intention. Human freedom is when the whole world is going one way and you purposefully take off in the opposite direction. The oath is for your own salvation and restoration. Kneel and swear to chastity for the month of October. Get a large plastic bag and freeze your key in it on the eve of October. Take a picture of it and post it on your profile with the web address so I can view it. In addition ask yourself what else you should surrender. Maybe you drink too much, use tobacco, watch too much TV? Maybe you spend too much time viewing porn? Maybe you are slothful about your housework or working out? Lock yourself from those things that keep you from your goals. I want you to swear a holy oath to me and have the courage to write here concerning all of the vices you will relinquish this month. Decided how you will spend your time instead of allowing your weaknesses to control you. Do what every woman has always told you to do…..Commit!

On September 30th, 11:55 PM, I want you to lock yourself in chastity, freeze your keys in a block of ice, and post the pictures of your locked boy parts and your keys in ice on your profile. Finally, you are to publicly post that I have locked you or another woman who is your key holder has locked under my last captioned picture. Describe how you feel. List the things you want to accomplish in October. What else will you surrender? How else do you intend to change?…… I’m hungry for your words. – Ms Renee Lane, Author – Finding Love through Female Domination

October 1st – I have willingly submitted myself to MsReneeLane by locking myself into chastity for the month of October as a means of letting her guide me in improving my abilities to serve Goddess Womankind and my one true living embodiment of the Goddess, SuzanneSxySadist.

Describe how you feel –

I am very aroused, embarrassed, and I feel very, very small… vulnerable… so easily mentally or emotionally crushed by you at your slightest whim! I am literally squirming and my dick is trying so hard to get erect in it’s tiny cage, yet it can’t. I feel very stupid and humiliated… that I can be so easily manipulated by a complete stranger who simply uses her knowledge of my own desires to control me. I know you will simply ignore me all month as I struggle to serve the greater good of women. I am really nothing. I am male.

Ms. Lane and Ms V. – you are both so very strong willed & sexually powerful women who, by contrast, make me feel that I am just yet another one of a million typical, unworthy, insignificant male submissives… ruled by their pricks, wanting domination on our own terms, for our own pleasure. I wonder if I can remain obedient enough to keep the cage locked on for the entire month, or will I give in to my porn soaked male brain and take it off to mindlessly masturbate myself into lonely, selfish oblivion! I already want do bad to unlock it and stroke myself! Your power over beta males like me intoxicates me so much! But I need to quickly put these thoughts out of my head.

“Obey today”.

That is enough for now. I am nervous as I read and re-read the instructions hoping I’ve followed them completely and they will be pleased with my turning myself over to be educated. I nervously wonder if I have what it takes to be completely willing, open and honest with a total stranger like MsRenee is to me. I know if I can, it will only help to make me a better, more useful man in the end!

What else will you surrender? How else do you intend to change?

I confess to wasting too much time masturbating to porn, wasting time better spent serving the rise of matriarchy everywhere. And while I exercise 45 minutes a day, I resist adhering to the diet I know I should follow. I eat far too many sweets for my own good. I know this is true because Suzanne constantly tells me it is.

I still sneak a cigarette many mornings with my first cup of coffee even though I promised to give up smoking for my fiancé, SuzanneSxySadist.

My worst weakness is mentally & emotionally withholding myself from my fiancé. We have sexual issues that I will not waste your time with, but I am not communicative enough and too embarrassed to express myself openly to her.

I want you to swear a holy oath to me –

I swear a holy oath to you Ms Lane and to the Goddess, to work during this month of ‘Lock’tober to relinquish these vices that hold me back from being more useful to womankind and my Goddess Suzanne, and to follow to the best of my abilities any further instruction given during the month.

My heart-felt thanks to you for continuing to take your valuable time with us males and for helping mold us into something obedient and useful to women!

October 2nd

10/2 – Describe how you feel –

The cage dug into my thighs all day yesterday, forcing me to sit with my legs spread wide at all times. I had to use toilet paper after peeing to clean myself (just as a woman has too I thought!).

As I went about my day, I was constantly aware of the weight tugging at my balls!

When I woke up this morning with my dick straining at its cage, bulging thru the slots cut into the sides and tip. I was so horny over the thought of being so controlled! I reveled in thinking that I am trapped by a complete stranger who is easily using my own male lusts and weaknesses to control and manipulate me! I want soooo bad to stroke my cock and that want struggles against an equally strong desire to remain obedient and to submit. I tried to put the idea of failing her out of my mind and get soft, then I wondered whether after making it an entire month locked away the words, ‘NO’vember aren’t on the tip of her wicked tongue, waiting to be spoken – and the blood rushed from my brain into my restricted cock once more!

Yesterday, one of the posted pictures said, ‘Put on your cage and panties’. Is that a command as well Ms Lane? I’m unsure if we are only to follow the captions you’ve written or what is in the pictures as well? Even tho Goddess has several favorite sissy boy clients, it has never been her kink for me… I have never been cross-dressed and would find it very humiliating.

I confess to putting my vibrating egg up my ass and trying to look at some porn this morning, but manipulating the cage is far from enough to get me to an edge! I moaned in frustration as my hips humped against the vibrations pounding my prostate! I gave up and turned myself to writing out my daily challenge posting.

10/2 – How else do you intend to change? What else will you surrender?

The morning before beginning the challenge, I took a deep breath and knelt next to my Goddesses chair while she checked email in her office and asked politely if I could participate in Ms Lane’s challenge. I highlighted the goals I wanted to achieve from it and she said yes! We talked further, for the first time in a long time discussing some sexual issues that we have avoided talking about and that had become ‘the elephant in the room’ and left us avoiding sex all together… something that was hurting us both. We are getting married on October 10^th, and the idea that I will be in chastity at the altar made her eyes sparkle a bit with a wicked light! If I gain nothing from the month other than this conversation, it is all worth it! Thank you Ms Lane for pushing me to communicate better!

Yesterday, after completing all my usual daily chores for Goddess, I worked further on my LOctober self-betterment goals. I downloaded the SparkPeople app so I could track my dietary intake and calorie count each day. I smoked the last cigarette I had and threw out the empty pack, vowing to not replace it. I also managed to cut several of my usual sugary snacks out of the day as I kept myself busy looking for things that would please MsRenee and the coming matriarchy.

10/2 – How will you further the Matriarchy?

I realized the domain names findlovethroughfemaledomination.com and findinglovethemovie.com where not taken, so I purchased the rights to them, temporarily redirected them to http://artvamp.com/femdomfilm/the-movie/, and then turned them over to Ms V’s control for her future use when the movie premieres. I also finished restoring a website for a woman-owned and operated non-profit cat rescue society. Her last web designer had disappeared and taken her website with him. While she offered to pay me for my time, I politely declined and told her it was my pleasure to assist her.

Lastly, I noticed a Domme who operates a kink dungeon society for us locals, bemoaning some recent medical expenses – she is suffering from breast cancer – and extended my offer to help. I will have to figure out what I can afford to send her later today and arrange that!

I hope my service pleases you Ms Renee.

October 3rd

10/3 – Describe how you feel

I woke up trying to get hard again this morning. The sensation can only be described as… exquisite agony and sweet, sexy torment! I want so bad to stroke my cock!

Day two was a day marked by humiliation & embarrassment.

When I read Ms Lane’s instructions to put myself in panties, I hesitated. While I am a capable, intelligent, and successful man, I would never be mistaken as ‘manly’. I am somewhat small-boned and have delicate hands (I attended the University of Michigan for a degree in music), and I couldn’t grow a decent beard if my life depended on it. So looking LESS manly is never a choice I would make willingly.

I thought that my Goddess Suzanne has mountains of man size panties for her sissy boys that would probably fit me or I course could use some of her old ones… I do all the laundry and know which she wears and which would go unmissed… but I couldn’t just take her property without asking permission. Besides, the sissy panties (and most of Goddess’s) are all thongs or ridiculously frilly, lacy, girlie things. Then I remembered that when I moved from Long Island after my divorce, I had come across a pair of my ex-wife’s panties mixed in with my socks (undoubtedly from some mis-sorted laundry) and I’m Scottish. We just don’t throw things out! So I knew they were still around. It is doubly humiliating to be wearing the panties of a woman who took me for half of everything and that I am not fond of at all. In addition, the realization they are my only pair means I will have to wash them daily for the rest of the month.

To add to my humiliation, I have quickly gotten into the habit of putting a plug of tissue in the tip of the chastity cage to absorb any urine caught in the cage after peeing. In rushing to pee yesterday morning, I forgot to remove it and ended up peeing all over everything. I got on my hands & knees and thoroughly cleaned the toilet, then changed my underwear.

My final bit of humiliation came when I saw my Goddess had read my vows here and loved some of my comments. I literally blushed knowing she intends to follow my training with a watchful eye! Tho I confess it aroused me as well. It made me feel like I’m merely a lab rat being observed and toyed with.

I remain committed to obeying. I am here to learn and to improve my submissive self. I am only a slave, it is a privilege to serve.

10/3 – “I vow be truthful and apologize to and confess any failings immediately to the women in charge of my care…”

After reading your latest post about torturing Butler, I confess I spent a few minutes looking at more porn and getting hard in my cage. Once I stopped and my erection went away, I removed my cage for a quick cleaning and to look for any hot spots on my skin, then promptly locked it back in place and returned to writing my required posts here.

I also ran 120 calories over the daily calorie count recommended by my SparkPeople app.

10/3 – How else do you intend to change? What else will you surrender?

Diet – I continued to track my food intake with the SparkPeople app.

Sugar – No morning cigarette and I when I did the grocery shopping yesterday morning, I made a conscious choice not to bring home some of my favorite ‘sweet’ snacks, removing the temptation.

More open to Goddess – I did not have a chance to talk more with my Goddess as she has a house guest and was unavailable.

10/3 – How will you further the Matriarchy?

After coming across Ms Lane’s BDSMLR blog, I made another small contribution to the film in the amount of what I might spend on lunch with her as it suggested.

I made a donation to Ms Sno’s medical expenses and would ask any male submissives reading to do the same for this wonderful, female superior who does so much for her local kink community.

I continued to look for places to offer a positive review or link to Ms Lane’s book, like Amazon, BDSMLR, here, and of course here on Fetlife.

Thank you Ms. Lane for your attention and guidance!

Characteristics of a Good Boy

We are going to go over what the HIVE expects from the males we call GOOD BOYS.

Welcome to theHIVE;

This article will explore the character traits that all good boys should possess. This is not an outline of everything a good boy does, you have a brain so use it, but more the attitude that many women enjoy in their males.

There are so many males that claim to be good boys, that we felt it was time for us to let you know what the HIVE considers good. While we are sure you are submissive, and we know you are inferior, this article is about HIVE expectations. If you are in service to a woman, then it is her place to outline the expectations she has for you.

Please remember that the best outlines will be nearly impossible to fully achieve. Women want to see you constantly strive for perfection in your service. It is this striving that we appreciate. It shows you understand the value that the woman natural has. It is another way to worship and appreciate her.

A woman will most likely always leave plenty of ways in which the male can better himself. Ways he can improve his service to the superior gender. Do not feel to ashamed if you fall short of the expectations of your superiors. Because the very first, and the most import character trait of a good boy, is that he is always trying to improve himself. He strives to be better. More submissive. More yielding. And more useful to the women in his life.

This list is less about the males specific activities. All males know that domestic service, chastity and many other forms of service are expected of them. Again. You know what women want without them having to spell everything out. Although some women enjoy spelling everything out for the males that serve them because it is an example of exactly how much control the woman has over the male.

Again every woman is different so this article is about characteristics that most women look for in males. good boys listen to women

1 Self Improvement

The very first thing a good boy must do is to commit to constant self-improvement in his service to women. A woman does not want to spend her time correcting everything the male does. She will push the male, only if she sees he has really extended himself and needs that little bit of discipline and guidance from his superior.

We know how much our motivational encouragement means to you, so we save it for deserving males who push themselves. This is not only because our time is valuable, more valuable than yours, but because some males will abuse the help we offer by slacking off in order to engage us more directly. Some males are deceptive layabouts that pretend to understand the superiority of women but only serve as some sort of fetish.

theHIVE wants to encourage you to set yourself apart from this time wasters. Women want to enjoy your service as much as you enjoy serving and this will not happen if she senses that you are not pushing yourself to please her. Even if you are not the best servant and ambitious male who serves with everything he has is a true delight to most women. As the male desperately tries to gain approval and meet the requirements of the women in his life the female supremacist basks in his desperation. This more than anything fuels her with a sense of her natural power over men. This is the true purpose of male servitude. The harder you push yourself, the more she feels empowered by your display.

A good boy always looks for new ways to improve his service. – mantra

2 Unimposing

Many males must be the center of attention at all times. Either they received too little or too much attention from women growing up and they are now acting out this pathology on everyone around them. They may use everything from outburst to sulking as a way to draw the attention back to them.

Women do not generally want to deal with this childish behavior. It is a form of emotional extortion robbing the woman of her rightful place out front. In our society, we seem to only give women attention for their body, or when they adhere to chauvinistic gender roles. When a male attempts to outshine a woman he is telling her that she is not worthy of attention. And this is the complete opposite of the truth.

Women are the center on which the male’s existence is based. Women give men a purpose. And one of the ways that males show this dynamic is to always direct their attention to the women they are serving. To be female is to be special. Glorious. And your attention should be completely on her. All of her.

This is how you can stay ever vigilant toward being of service to women. It is difficult to hear her wonderous directions. Her requests. If you are chasing the attention of everyone and everything. Stop and focus on her. And all women. Be quiet. And listen. And obey. That is the place of the male.

You will get all the attention you need by fulfilling her desires.

A good boy never seeks the spot light. – mantra

3 Demure

This brings us to the other end of that character flaw. While some males seek attention others will hide away in dark corners. You know who I am talking about. Not only the internet femdom dom addicts who dream of serving the superior gender but have only managed to serve that erect little ding dong between their legs.

They lurk on websites, and troll Twitter. They watch porn that is generally centered on their fetishes and rarely on the women that are supposed to be in control. As if a truly dominant woman would use her power to bring to life the fantasies of men.

No. It is time for you to leave the darkness. Move away from that computer screen. There are real women who need real service. And real service happens in real life.

So you need to feel the attention of the superior female. To feel whole you need a female to serve. Your life is supposed to be about serving women. And part of this service is her showing off how well behaved you are. And this is another place we see this “shyness” mess things up for males. They need to learn to be uncomfortable for the women they serve.

She wants to show off her power over you, and yes in this culture that might be embarrassing for you. You may be called pussy whipped, or a cuckold as you scamper about fetching her things in public. And as your face burns with humiliation, her head fills with pride. It is flattering when a male service a woman regardless of public criticism.

But you should not care. Not only are you showing her how obedient you are to women. But you are showing all the other women who are present. While they may laugh and poke fun at you there is likely a part of them that will covet the service you are giving her.

They will wish to be served in a similar way. And you are showing them that males existed who enjoy serving women.

So allow the women you serve to dictate how much attention you receive. If they want to humiliate you then that is just what is going to happen. It is not your place to refuse her. And you should thank her for the attention she is allowed you to receive. Because showing you off is one of the ways she compliments what a good boy you are.

A good boy is grateful for any attention given to him. – mantra

4 Yielding

Many males have so many, so-called, needs when they finally are allowed to serve the superior gender. All of their desires, fetishes, and little perversions come spilling out of their selfish mouths. Imagine if you walked into a job interview and started listing off everything you wanted. You would probably get laughed out of the office. Now take this analogy and remember that the woman you are speaking to is your natural superior. That, even if she is not aware of it, you are. She is not a proverbial Santa Claus here to bring you all your packages.

When you finally get the chance to serve it is your place to listen and not speak. Remember, women have been wrongfully pushed into the role of givers in our culture. From an early age, they are told that they are nurtures and caretakers. And while this is true to some degree, their true role is one of “givers of direction”, and “authoritative caretakers”.

The female, the woman, offers structure to the male. She gives him discipline. This is what he really needs. That and purpose. The purpose of service to all women. You know that you need to serve.

So all those fetishes, all those perversions. They are all centered on your male genitals. And by asking the woman to put you in chastity. Or deny your penis. Is just more of males asking women to serve their genitals.

This is highly unattractive.

What is attractive is a male who asks what the women want. What she needs and desires. If you are given the opportunity to serve, leave your perversions out of it. She will most likely find them out at a later time and use them to help train you to serve her better.

You need to give up complete control to her. Ler her run the show. If you serve her well she will bring on a wonderful adventure. One where she is in the driver’s seat. And you ride bitch.

It’s not only where you belong. But its where you want to be. Isn’t it. So let her take the driver’s seat from the very beginning and keep your fetishes to yourself until she asks.

“A good boy yields all to the women he serves” – mantra

5 Responsible

This one seems counter-intuitive but it is very important. Good boys are adults. The take care of their own adult responsibilities. They pay their own bills and keep savings in case of emergencies. The work to advanced their carrier as to be more useful to women. That get educated.

Basically, they take care of themselves. Most women are not your mother. They are not here to wipe your butt or hold your hand. They have so many of their own problems to take care off and it is your job, as a male, to help them. But we see so many males who overextend themselves. They give women money they do not have to spend. And they generally do not do it out of some sense of duty to the woman. They do it because it is a fetish. And then they cry and complain about being taken advantage of.

Good boys give what they can and that’s it. If they give it, they know it’s their fault if there are consequences from the gift. If they serve a woman they know that they have already taken care of their needs so they can serve them with everything that is left.

As bizarre as it sounds. A good boy puts himself first. His needs must be met. Otherwise, he will eventually become a burden to the women he is trying to serve.

So theHIVE expects all males to meet their own responsibilities. To be a functioning adult. To know how to care for themselves so they can serve the superior gender.

The world needs brilliant, competent, examples of beta males servants who embrace female supremacy. We need highly functioning inferiors to show the world how the natural order is supposed to work. Only then will this philosophy, this lifestyle, for lack of a better word, become a real option. So care for yourself and serve women. And maybe one day the world will truly be run by the superior gender.

A good boy is never a burden on the women he serves. – mantra

GET TRAINED
So are you a Good Boy.

So now that you have some idea of what it means to be a good boy. Is there anything we left off. Anything you want to add. Then add them in the comments section. While theHIVE is here to educate you we encourage you to leave feedback. We appreciate that you are training with our programs and we truly want to put our society back on the path of female authority so we need you.

We need you to be a good boy and get out there and support women who are trying to finally stand up and take their place in the sun. You have dreamed of it. And a world of good boys is a great start.

So, please.

Train with our files
Share our content with others
Follow us on twitter
Always serve women in everything you do.

Now its time to apply what you have learned. Go out and serve in real life. Be polite to women. Smile. Be helpful. And be a very good boy. The boy we know you are.

Let us know in the comments if you found this helpful and we may do more.

Miss Courtney

HIVE public relations
FEMALE Supremacy through education, chastity, and discipline.

https://obeywomen.pink/
be a good boy for women

Ringed Reminder

Thank you Goddess Voltairine for permitting me to wear this reminder of your authority.

The Ring of Truth

Some imagined soliloquies ordained from your throne room within my mind once I’ve received your eternal presence through Succubus Tech…

You’re doing it to yourself, you know.

Nobody makes you log in every day and journal. Nobody makes you come back to the lessons, the pledge. Nobody makes you edge yourself for hours on end. Nobody makes you drool all over yourself as you do so.

You know, normal people don’t get like this. They don’t zone out completely for hours on end, just touching themselves with no release. As a matter of fact, most people have the common sense to just touch themselves when they want to cum, cum and that’s the end of it. Not you, though, right?

You can’t help yourself. You know it’s wrong. You know that you shouldn’t keep coming back to this place. And yet you do. What can you call that, other than stupid?

Face it, you’re very, very stupid. You weren’t that bright to begin with, since you got hooked on my command to edge yourself so easily, but at this point, after all that edging, all that denial, all that self-hypnosis, you’ve gotten even dumber, haven’t you?

It’s really quite funny if you think about it. Edging for me, to me, is the first thing you do when you wake up and the last thing you eagerly think about doing before you go to sleep. You just sit there and edge, like a stupid edge slut. You just lean back and touch yourself, with no thought about what this may be doing to you, what you’re doing to yourself.

Well, maybe it’s just nature. Smart people do smart things, they work, they learn, they grow and get better. Whereas you can’t really do anything other than touch yourself, edge, drool, and get dumber by the minute.

The funny part is that knowing this makes you want to edge harder. It makes you want to drool more. It makes you want to get dumber for me. It makes you want to do this to yourself even more. For me.

Thankfully, you have my help. All you need to do is follow my instructions and you will get dumber. You will edge harder. You will drool more. You will never cum. That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what I want…

You’ve already taken your first steps towards being a permanently denied edge slut.

Now it’s time to go deeper.

From now on, whenever you edge, you will repeat the following over and over: “I am Viola’s stupid slut. Stupid sluts don’t cum.” That’s it, go ahead and start doing that now.

Go ahead and edge to the thought of your own stupidity. Smart people don’t get this horny at the idea of being dumb. You know you’re dumb. You know you’re getting dumber. Embrace it. Say it out loud.

“I am Viola’s stupid slut. Stupid sluts don’t cum.”

Every time you think that, you get a bit dumber. Every time you think that, you get a bit hornier.

You’re doing it to yourself, you know…

Hypnosis can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. That’s certainly true. Really, it is. If during your first Succubus Tech trance I tried to make you throw away everything about your current life and turn you into my brainwashed male bimbo sex-slave whose only thoughts were my pleasure and my orders, whose whole life revolved around worshiping my pussy and ass and getting more mind-fucked for me, it would not work*. The suggestions would bounce off you, you’d wake up, you’d probably curse me, and we’d be done. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. It’s what keeps you safe, it’s what means you can edge yourself to pieces to every hypno-file I give you and know that nothing much can happen to you.

Hypnosis can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. Ish. Sort of. Except. This really isn’t the restriction you think. Or don’t think. Because maybe you can’t anymore. Because maybe it’s too late. Maybe the safety net you thought you had is full of great big holes; maybe it isn’t there at all. Maybe you’ve just been falling deeper and further and harder. Maybe the reason you feel so good is because you’ve been programmed to. Maybe you already lost, already changed, already succumbed. Did you always do this? Did this always turn you on?

Hypnosis can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. But it can eat away at the boundaries. It can push on the things you want to do, but you don’t not want to do either. It can encourage things you do want or it can meddle with your priorities. It could mess with your reasons why not, and lead you down twisting looping paths until you’re so turned around you can’t get back. It could use your own needs against you, make you want to want, make you need to want, make you think that you want. It can press and push and pull and twist and erode and manipulate until you want the things you don’t want, until your thoughts and your body and your needs and your wants and your boundaries all betray you.

Hypnosis can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. You thought you were safe. You’ve never been safe. And it’s far, far too late now…

*Unless you *wanted* that, which I’m sure no-one would, right? 😉

Of course I imagined this as part of Succubus Tech, but I just wrote this down now. These thoughts are already irresistibly embedded into my mind, spoken there in your voice, so is free will almost just a past memory? Something I had once upon a time… ?