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Please feel free to offer your own suggestions and criticism.
More images mostly vintage, all from sources unknown of women dominating and being cruel to submissive men.
Prior assemblages of Femdom BDSM Imagery
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Originally posted 2011-08-13 09:51:04.
Man’s Lifetime of Spanking Discipline & Punishment
When I was growing up, my mom used to always spank me. You see, my dad was an over the road salesman, and was only home on weekends. So my mom took care of the day to day discipline around the house. At first it was just a tap on the back of the legs with a yardstick. My mom liked to sew, so she always had a yardstick near by. But as I grew older, I had to pull down my pants and underwear for a spanking on my bare bottom.
I was also spanked through high school and when I started college. My mom felt that as long as I lived in the house under her rules, I deserved to be spanked. In high school, she usually had me bend over the end of the sofa, or a chair, for a spanking with a paddle. My mom also got various paddles over the years. Some had holes in them that really stung, others had different shapes to them. My bottom was always turned quite red, and many times I had to stand in a corner after the spanking. The spanking did make me really respect my mom.
After I started college, I moved out of the house to an apartment of my own. By the end of college, I had found a woman that I really liked and wanted to marry. I had taken her over to see my mom and dad, and they really liked her, too. After I graduated from college, I finally got engaged to Khymberly and I was looking forward to being married to her. Since we were engaged, she had a key to my apartment.
At this point, I was beginning to take Khymberly for granted, even though we weren’t even married yet. She was washing all of my clothes, making my meals, going grocery shopping for me, and I was treating her more as a servant than as my soon to be wife. Anyway, I guess Khymberly talked to my mom about this, and one day when I came home from the office, I was greeted by both my fiancée and my mom.
“Khymberly tells me that you haven’t been showing her much respect, lately.” My mom said. “She has been doing all of the work around your apartment, and that you have been treating her more like a servant than your future wife. Is this true?”
“It hasn’t been that bad,” I pleaded.
“She tells me that she does all of your laundry, takes out your trash, makes your meals, and even runs errands for you. That’s not how you should treat Khymberly.”
“Why not! Khymberly is willing to do it for me,” I said.
“Khymberly feels like she has become a personal slave to you, and that you don’t treat her with respect anymore.” My mom said.
“I didn’t realize I was acting this way towards her,” I said.
“You have been treating Khymberly very poorly, and I want to make sure she stays in the family.” My mom said. “I have decided to show Khymberly how I have kept you behaving in the proper manner. So Khymberly and I are going to give you a good spanking.”
“A spanking? But I am too old for that.” I said.
“You deserve a good spanking for what you have been doing to Khymberly, and you are never too old for a spanking,” my mom said.
“I’ll act better towards Khymberly,” I said. “You don’t have to spank me.”
“This way you will remember to treat Khymberly with more respect,” my mom said. “So go over to the end of the sofa and prepare yourself for a spanking.” So I slowly went over to the end of the sofa and dropped my slacks and underwear, so that they were at my ankles. Meanwhile, my mom was telling Khymberly, “I brought my paddles along that I used to spank him with. After we spank him today, I can leave the paddles with you so that you can spank him whenever he needs it.” My mom looked over at me and saw that I was still standing up and she said, “Bend over the sofa so that we can start your spanking.”
So now I was bent over the sofa with my bare bottom sticking out, awaiting for Khymberly and my mom to spank me. “I like to use the paddle with the holes in it. It stings his bottom more than the other paddles.” Then my mom started to spank me. While she was spanking me, she told Khymberly, “You should spank him going from cheek to cheek, and he’s a big boy now, so you can spank him hard. Now you try it.” Then she handed the paddle to Khymberly and she was spanking me. She wasn’t spanking me as hard as my mom until my mom said, “Go ahead and spank him harder. He can take it.” Then I felt the paddle stinging my poor bare bottom even harder. “Sometimes I change to other paddles when I spank him,” my mom said. “They make different noises and they feel different for him. You should spank him until his bottom turns a nice red color.” So Khymberly tried other paddles on me and kept spanking me.
“His bottom looks pretty red now, should I stop spanking him?” Khymberly asked my mom.
“Give him a few more swats, then you should stop,” my mom said. After a couple more swats, my spanking stopped and my mom said, “After I spank him, I always have him stand in the corner with his pants still down and his hands at his sides. So you can stand up, now, and stand in the corner.”
I really wanted to rub my poor hurting bottom, but I went to the corner and stood there with my arms at my sides. Then Khymberly and my mom talked for what seemed like a long time. My mom told Khymberly that I should be spanked on a regular basis, so that I would always respect her.
“Why don’t you leave him standing in the corner until after I leave,” my mom said. “Don’t be afraid to call me if you have any questions about when and how to spank him.” So then my mom left my apartment, and I was alone with Khymberly.
“You can pull up your pants now.” Khymberly said to me. “I’m going to enjoy spanking you, to keep you from taking me for granted.”
And so after this, my wife spanked me on a regular basis after we were married. It has made me appreciate my wife, and behave a lot better.
Originally posted 2013-04-07 04:50:15.
Whipmistress was published by the House of Milan. This is the only cover of the magazine that I’ve managed to find.
More F/m magazines.
Originally posted 2012-10-14 08:28:14.
By Angela St. Lawrence
“Get your fucking pants down, now!”
Heart racing, you struggle with your belt. She doesn’t have a right to treat me like this, you think to yourself. You try to ignore the clammy grip of nervous sweat around your balls. I ’ve paid good money after all; she is really nothing more than a whore when you get right down to it.
The more you think about it, the braver you’re feeling. Mistress, my ass! Just who in the hell does she think she is to talk to me like that?
Ignoring your own better judgment, forgetting that your pants are now down around your knees and your dick is sticking straight up, you look up to say something, to somehow defend yourself against her scornful abuse.
“You timid, little piece-of-shit, loser. Who in the fuck do you think you are looking at?”
Her voice is cruel and unforgiving as she looks at you with cold, icy blue eyes—first straight into your face and then down to your naked, twitching cock. She smirks, and you know you are beaten, that she has you, that she knows you for the warped and twisted degenerate that you are. Your bravado is gone, your words caught dry and useless in your throat.
Wiggling her slender hand into a latex glove, stretching and pulling the latex to fit snugly between her fingers, she continues, her voice a wicked snarl, “Don’t even think about smart-mouthing me, asshole. You’re the one who called me. You’re the one who was so damn curious about a “FemDom” handjob. You’re the butterfingers who evidently can’t jerk off your own dick. You’re the underachiever who evidently needs an instruction manual on how to fuck pussy correctly.” Her voice is sharp and cold and you know now that there will be no kindness, no mercy. But your cock is throbbing as you watch her squirting lube into the palm of her gloved hand.
She spits the number out at you as her slithery fist grabs your prick and moves down the length of it. The shock, the suddenness of it, is so visceral that you almost shoot your load right then.
“Don’t you fucking dare, weasel boy. This dirty, nasty, useless prick of yours doesn’t cum until and when I say so. And that would be when we get to the number one. Got it?”
“Christ! Fuck! Shit! Yesssssssssss, Ma’am.”
You hear yourself, a whimpering, blubbering, mindless automaton. You are her toy: a helpless, filthy cock-toy to abuse and molest at her whim.
As her hand moves—once up and once down—you feel her grasp tighten ever so slightly. Oh, she is a gifted Goddess. You know that now and your urge to cum is almost overpowering. You can’t help yourself and begin to actually wail. “Please, Mistress. Please let me cum now. Oh, please.” You hear yourself and are ashamed, but cannot stop. “Please, Mistress. Let me cum now. Let me be your dirty filthy boy and cum now. Please, please, please, please.”
Abruptly she loosens her grip and—before you even understand what is happening—smacks your cock. Once. Twice. Three times. There is nothing, nobody but you and her, her hand and your dick. You actually swoon and feel yourself dropping towards the when she grabs your arm and pulls you you back up.
“No you don’t,” she whispers sweetly, lips grazing your ear. The unexpected change in her manner has you spinning and powerless, totally focused on her. You struggle to speak, to tell her you adore her, to tell her you belong to her while your abandoned cock twitches and drips, pointing directly at her: your Mistress, your Queen.
“You came here for a FemDom handjob. Don’t you remember? Or did your brain melt and drain into your balls and leave you stupid? If you spew already, you’ll miss the show.”
She giggles as she moves away from you to sit in a nearby chair. You are tempted to beg her to come back, to jerk your cock again, that you will be a “good boy.” But seeing the look on her face you think better of it and are silent.
“That’s more like it,” she says, pointing between your legs. You are helpless, exposed. “That dick is now my property, my personal gear shift. Got it?”
Afraid to look at her, you nod, staring straight ahead. “Yes Mistress.”
“I’m going to start again in a moment, but this time I’m going to start counting back from ten.” Unable to stop yourself, you moan in frustration.
“Make that fifteen.” You bite your tongue.
“You’re learning,” she almost—but not quite—purrs as she stands up again and walks toward you.
“Now stand there with your pants down around your ankles like the gimp-loser dick-wad you are while I lube this glove up one more time.”
“And then we’ll try again.”
Visit Angela’s Blistered Lips for more stories.
Originally posted 2008-01-22 05:35:40.
Two young dominant Mistresses have a new human toy to play with.
The young women get him out of the shirt that is guarding his skin from their whims.
The cage is where the newly enslaved young male will live when he isn’t performing chores for and being tormented by his Mistresses.
Mistress explores his nipples. How easily tormenting them will make him whimper.
Series nipple torture is apt to make a slave too noisy. Mistress gags her male slave.
Originally posted 2013-02-02 07:10:54.
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