Yet another small gallery of fantasy Mistresses from the cover of Madame magazine.
My thanks to Bibliophile.
Scans of the interior content of Madame are available for a tiny fee.
Yet another small gallery of fantasy Mistresses from the cover of Madame magazine.
My thanks to Bibliophile.
Scans of the interior content of Madame are available for a tiny fee.
“Who does this body belong to, slave?” Goddess asks archly, as if reading my mind, but with my mouth firmly gagged, all i can do is laboriously make faint unintelligible sounds. “Surely, you know I could do anything I want to you now, slave, don’t you? And I will.”
“You are My property, slave, body and soul,” Goddess continues. “It would be best for you to give up all thoughts of resistance and give in to My TOTAL control. You will surrender to Me more completely than you ever have before.”
I slump back into the chair, all of my taut muscles relaxing their pressure on the bonds holding me imprisoned. Goddess places a blindfold over my eyes and my bondage is complete – i am utterly helpless, unable to move or control my body, unable even to see what new tortures threaten. Goddess orders me to grunt three times if i am in any extreme distress and makes me test out my ability to make myself heard through the strict gag. I hear footsteps in the hallway approaching the room. I hear the click of Her heels on the metal floor and the tantalizing sound of Goddess speaking in a hushed voice, and a male voice responding.
I strain to listen, and as they come closer i begin to make out the conversation. I am able to gather that the unknown male has some sort of medical training and is here to assist Goddess in the whole procedure She has planned. I wait in a state of dread imagining what’s in store for me. I am thankful for the anonymity the blindfold affords me and again impressed by Goddess’ ability to look after my welfare and safety.
I soon discover what sort of punishment awaits as i hear the word catheter spoken and hear the snap of latex gloves being put on and a plastic bag being opened. I realize immediately what a brilliant punishment this is for having betrayed Goddess’ trust by willfully sticking a q-tip up my greedy slave cock. I am absolutely dumb-struck at the way that Goddess can seemingly read my thoughts and anticipate my slutty daydreams, making all of my long-cherished desperate fantasies into reality and then pushing my degradation into uncharted territories, torturing and humiliating me in brilliant and imaginative ways i never suspected.
“Let’s prep the patient,” Goddess exclaims, feigning an official voice. I feel and smell as a cloth dampened with medicinal antiseptic is used to carefully cleanse the tip of my cock and the entire genital area. Goddess now thrusts the substantial tube of a well-lubricated catheter against my pee-slit, penetrating my erect penis.
After invading and dominating my mouth and ass, making me conscious of Her power over every recess of my body, Goddess is now determined that no part of me should remain hidden from Her probing discipline.
Goddess declares Her absolute power over Her slaveslut.
“If it is My pleasure, slave,” my Goddess softly but firmly declares, “I will penetrate any orifice, open your powerless body up to the most thorough exploration, break down any barrier or defense. Bound as you are, you have no choice, do you slave, no defense. You cannot stop your Goddess from raping that filthy selfish little cock, from pushing this silicone tube all the way into your compressed bladder. I will discipline and torture any part of your body, slave, in any way I choose. I possess and control this cock, this ass, this throat, every sensitive, vulnerable recess.”
Yet, equally powerless to resist or to demonstrate my consent, my mind screams out a mute yes yes yes as i feel myself swooning in an ecstasy of intimate surrender. I desperately want to feel Goddess inside of me, consuming me, annihilating me, taking control of every sensation, stripping me of my will and individuality. Every new violation of my defenses, every outrage against my independence and dignity moves and arouses me intensely.
I can feel the insistent push of the tube as it slowly slides in and drives deeper and deeper, pressing against the inside of my urethra, opening me, stretching me as it opens me up, inch after inch.
Suddenly i can feel it probing past the prostate, the stimulation is intense, my internals are singing as i feel a riot of sensations inside me, the pressure of the balloon in my ass, the utterly unfamiliar pressure of the catheter on my prostate starts to cause that familiar hum of my slutty hot ass climbing towards a spasming climax. I feel the tube push past the sphincter of the PC muscle, breaking through into my bladder.. The entire sensitive lining of my cock feels only the constant pressure of the tube opening me up for Goddess’ wicked water-sports, i am stripped not only of the control, but even of the awareness of the progress of my urine through my own cock.
Suddenly the pressure on my bladder eases significantly and i feel a warm wetness on my leg. My Goddess makes a startled exclamation and laughs a wonderful, hearty laugh, Her soft, achingly expressive voice betraying suppressed annoyance, good-humoured surprise, and a hint of malevolent arousal at a world of new possibilities and diabolical humiliations. “We’ve struck gold,” She exclaims, “where’s the bedpan?”
The removal of my bladder-control has led to an unexpected fountain of my slave piss. Goddess, with a wicked chuckle in Her voice, shames me for making a disgusting mess, declaring teasingly what a perfect blackmail video-tape this scene would offer. The very mention of video-taping me in my helpless plight would have been very disturbing – a quick cold shower snapping me from my erotic reverie and awakening me to all the dangers to which i so often expose myself in submitting so eagerly to Goddess – had i not learnt to trust Goddess Khrystal and surrender myself to Her power and vigilant protection through the inexorable progress of Her tender, caring domination. The remark actually serves to arouse me further by reminding me of the heady intimacy of sharing these depth of passion and surrender, known to so few and so often misunderstood or condemned, forcing me to imagine how an unaware casual observer might react to seeing me like this, bound, collared, gagged and blindfolded, naked except for my bonds, my ass and mouth stuffed to the limit with rubber balloons, pump-bulbs hanging obscenely out of each, and my spitted cock spraying my own piss uncontrollably all over out of a plastic tube.
I am ashamed as i feel my cock getting harder, despite the tenderness of my urethra as it is impaled on the catheter, greedily stretching out for more of the invader, welcoming it, feeling more and more of its length inside of me. I wonder what sort of shameless kinky little slut i have become when each degrading step in stripping me of my independence, dignity, and self-control only turns me on further.
Bound and helpless, i am entirely at Goddess’ mercy, and as i am made to piss myself and wallow in my own filth, i can still plead the excuse that i was unable to resist, all power over my own bladder and all ability to hold in my own piss forcibly stripped from me by the silicone tube Goddess uses to core and ream my cock. Yet i know that i would be equally docile with no straps to restrain me. But who could put up more than a token resistance to Goddess’ commands.
Originally posted 2013-04-30 06:31:11.
The Mistress prepared Farm Slave Boy for his day’s work on the ranch. It was a hot day and the Mistress knew that the work would get the boy hot, sweaty and horny.
Naked, the boy waited, arms and legs spreadeagled to the wooden columns holding up the barn. The obligatory Farm Slaves were slung around his neck, and the three stuffed into his mouth made his cheeks bulge. They tasted bitter from the cum which had soaked them the previous night when his Mistress had subjected him to a ruthless Farm Slave wank, making his cock sore yet ache for more.
The Mistress arrived with the restraints. A rubber chastity belt was tightened around his waist and his cock and balls pulled through the hole in the front. The Mistress pulled the bottom strap tightly back between the boy’s legs and used it to secure a wide double door knocker butt plug into Farm Slave Boy’s arse. The whole device was secured with padlocks.
Next his cock and balls were wrapped in a Farm Slave and his cock fastened up against the front piece of the chastity belt by tight rubber straps which made any expansion of his cock difficult and very painful.
Around the Farm Slave-covered balls the Mistress locked four metal shackles which stretched and tightened the balls, making them stand well proud of his body.
The boy was told to get dressed and he put on a flannel shirt and loose button-fly jeans. He knew what was expected and buttoned the fly around his balls which stuck out through the gaps in the buttons showing his Farm Slave bondage off to the world should it ever stray this way.
The Mistress reached inside the shirt and put clamps on the boy’s tits. These she pulled upwards with leather thongs which she clamped onto the boys ear lobes. Each head movement would pull on one or other tit, yet the clamps were so designed to tighten with tension rather than slip.
Next Farm Slave Boy’s feet were wrapped in piss soaked socks and thrust roughly into leather work boots which the Mistress laced up tightly.
Around Farm Slave Boy’s waist the Mistress locked a wide leather belt from each side of which ran a chain which ended in a lockable cuff. The chains were long enough to enable the boy to do his work but short enough to prevent him from reaching his tits or arse or head.
The gags in his mouth were secured with a wide folded piss soaked sock, another tied as a mask over his nose and mouth and a further one as a cover for his head.
Finally his hands were gloved in Farm Slaves so that the only parts of his own anatomy that could be seen were his deep dark eyes looking expectantly at his Mistress.
He worked all day collecting straw, sawing and piling logs, sweeping out the barn and obeying his Mistress’s orders. Never once did he shed a single item despite his arse tingling and twitching from the stimulation of the plug, his mouth aching from the gag, and his bladder bursting to piss the two pints of water he has been told to drink before leaving the house.
As it got dark the Mistress undid the chains and belt and the boy lay face down on the floor. The Mistress pulled some ropes down from a hook on the wall and secured first the boy’s feet, then his hands together, pulling them together until Farm Slave Boy was just one hog-tied Farm Slave bundle.
The ropes pulled his tits harder and pushed the plug deeper into his ass. His balls bore his own weight as they lay sandwiched between his thighs and the hard floor.
The Mistress took the mask off the boy and replaced it with the sodden rag, taking the old mask with her across the floor where she sat against a wall but well within view of the bound boy.
Folding the cun-soaked cloth in two, the Mistress double- masked the boy and left him for the evening to breathe in his Mistress’s smells and to strain against his Farm Slave bondage.
Originally posted 2011-07-20 06:47:51.
Holiday Corporal Punishment
This happened when I was a senior in high school. I must have been held back a grade when I was younger because I turned 18 at the beginning of the school year. I didn’t have to stay in school, but I was told that I should. This made me very rebellious. I just wanted to do the least possible to graduate.
Anyway, when Halloween came around, I thought I would cause a lot of mischief. I hid behind trees, and if I saw kids without their parents, I would take their candy from them. As it grew darker outside, I set off firecrackers and smashed pumpkins. I was having a jolly old time. Then I picked a house at random, and threw toilet paper all over the trees.
I was standing in front of the neighbor’s house admiring my work, when I felt someone grip my arm. I turned around and a big woman was holding me tightly so I couldn’t move. “You’re coming with me,” she said. I was dragged into her living room and forced to sit on a chair. She stood in front of me so that I was unable to move out of the chair.
“I’ve been watching you all evening. I saw you take kids candy, break pumpkins, set off firecrackers, and T P my neighbors yard. How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” I said.
“You’re legally an adult, now. If I call the police on you, you could spend time in jail.”
“I’m sorry! I must have gotten carried away with myself. Please don’t call the police on me!”
“I’ll give you an alternative. Either take a spanking from me, and everything that goes along with it, or I’ll call the police.”
I thought a spanking from her would he hit over my jeans with a paddle, so I said, “I’ll take your spanking.”
“Good choice,” She said. “If you don’t like your punishment and spanking, I’ll stop at any point, but then I will call the police.”
“You will not say a word unless you are spoken to or I tell you to talk.”
“You will do exactly what I tell you to do, without complaint.”
“And you will call me Mistress.”
“From now on, you should say “Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress.”
“Very good! Now what is your first name?”
“Joe, I want you to take off your shirt, shoes and socks.”
“Yes. Mistress.” I thought this was strange, but I did as I was told.
Then she came out with something from the kitchen. “These are wrist cuffs. After I have them on your wrists, please turn around so that I can secure your arms behind you.”
Now I had wrist cuffs on and my arms were secured behind me. “Let’s go downstairs where your spanking will take place.” Once we got downstairs, she opened a room that had whips and paddles, a wooden horse, and a wooden X on the wall. This would be more than a simple spanking, I said to myself. “If this is too much for you, you can back out now and I will call the police.”
“I’ll still go ahead with it.”
She sat on the only chair in the room and said, “Now I want you to stand in front of me and not say a word.” Then she proceeded to unbuckle my belt, unbutton my jeans, and unzip my zipper. I was helpless, because my hands were secured behind my back.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I told you not to talk. If you say anything else, your spanking will be more severe. You need to be completely naked for my spankings.” Then she put her fingertips in my briefs. And soon they were also around my ankles. I felt so embarrassed. Only the boys in gym class had seen my naked like this, and my mother. “Step out of them, now.”
She looked me over and said, “Let’s go over to the wooden X for the first part of your spanking. Stand with your nose almost touching the wooden X.” Then I felt her undo my wrists in back of me, and immediately secured them spread apart above my head. Next she attached anklets to my ankles, and secured my legs together.
“I am going to start you out using the flogger on you. It contains many fingers of leather. They will turn your skin pink and they will sting a lot. Are you ready for m to begin.”
There was nothing else to say but, “Yes, Mistress.” She started up near my neck and worked her way down my whole body. Everytime time the flogger hit me, it felt like a hundred little pins had been stuck into my skin. She also had it wrap around the sides of my body. It made my entire skin tingle.
She quit flogging me and I felt her down by my feet. “Spread those legs.” She commanded. I spread them apart and she still said, “Spread them even further than that.” I spread my legs as far as I could. Then I felt her attach each leg to the ends of the wooden X. I felt completely vulnerable. My cock and balls were now completely exposed and hanging down.
“Now I will be able to get to your inner thighs and other sensitive places.” Then she started to flog me some more. I wanted to get away from the flogger, but I was secured in place. It really shocked me when she flogged me between my legs.
“You look pink all over, now. I am going to switch to a paddle and concentrate on your butt.” Then I felt the sting of the paddle on my bottom. She spanked me first on one cheek and then the other. I felt my butt getting real warm.
After spanking me for about ten minutes with the paddle, she said, “Now I am going to use the riding crop on you.” Where the paddle seemed to sting me in a wide area, the crop was painful in a straight line. She was also able to cover small areas where the paddle hadn’t reached. Then she flicked it a few times between my legs. It really stung my cock and balls and I wiggled about. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t falling asleep on me.” My bottom was now feeling very warm and tender.
“I am now going to release you and put you over the wooden horse.” I felt her release one foot then the other and she said, “You can put your legs together, now.” It felt so good having my legs together, but now I was aware of how tender my inner thighs had become.
She unhooked my hands above my head and then she lead me over to the wooden horse. “Please bend over it so that your hands and feet are touching the floor.” First she attached my arms to each of the legs in the front. Then she grabbed one of my legs at a time, and spread and secured them to each leg of the horse. In this position, I could look between my legs and see her.
“Now I am going to give you six strokes of the cane. Have you ever been caned before?”
“Well, it can be quite painful. I want you to count each stroke out loud, and also say ‘Thank you, Mistress’. Do you understand?”
I felt a tapping on my butt, heard a whistle, and then it felt like a hundred bees had stung my butt in a straight line. I tried to stand up to rub my butt, but I was held in place by the horse. I yelled out, “Ouch! That really hurt.”
“Yes were suppose to say, ‘One. Thank you, Mistress.’ But since you didn’t, that stroke will be repeated again. So this will be stroke number one, again. Do you understand?”
I felt a tapping again, heard the whistle, then the pain again. This time I said, “One, Thank you, Mistress.”
“Hopefully, after your spanking, you will never behave like you did tonight, ever again.”
“Here comes number two.”
I felt the intense pain, again and said, “Two, Thank you, Mistress.”
“Tomorrow, after school, I also want you to apologize to my neighbor, and help him clean up the mess.”
Then I felt the next stroke of the cane. “Ouch, that hurts. Three, Thank you, Mistress.”
“And if I ever catch you making trouble in this neighborhood again, you can expect another spanking like this one. Is that understood?”
I felt the next stroke on my tender butt. “Yes, Mistress. Four. Thank you, Mistress.”
“Will you stay out of trouble?”
I felt the next stroke on my tender butt. “Yes, Mistress. Five. Thank you, Mistress.”
“This will be your last stoke, unless you forget to count it out.”
I felt a tapping. Heard the whistle sound, then the pain. “Six. Thank you, Mistress.”
“Let me put some lotion on your poor butt.” She said. Then I felt her soothing hands on my butt, rubbing in the lotion. “You have seven parallel welts on your bottom. It will probably be somewhat painful to sit down for a couple of days.” She released me from the horse, took off my anklets and wristlets, and said, “You can get dressed now.”
It was painful putting on my briefs and jeans. We went upstairs and I finished getting dressed. The spanking was quite painful and more than I had expected, but it was better than going to jail. As I was going out her front door, she patted me on my tender butt and said, “Remember to apologize to my neighbor, and help him clean up the mess.
“Yes, Mistress.” I replied.
My behavior drastically improved after that weekend. I will never forget that Halloween.
Originally posted 2013-04-11 15:59:26.
I always end up working after midnight. It’s my favorite time for creative thinking. Nobody around wanting to talk to you, no sudden telephone calls, no background noise… Only me and the computer, in an empty computer building, where I can stay for hours and hours writing term papers. I can pace back and forth, talking aloud to myself, discussing with my alter ego all the scholarly details of my next masterpiece, without being frowned upon. All those books around me… waiting to be opened and read, their fragrant smell so enticing to the intellect. So much information that needs to be understood, put in order, made clear and put to good use as a new approach to an old problem. Ah, that will be a good paper, sure enough. It had better be; it is due tomorrow. “Some Remarks on the Comparative Morphology of Northern Amazonian Languages”. Good title! Hmm… maybe I’ll center that. OK. Looks better. Now, my name under it… should it be in parentheses? Or should I reduce the font size? Or change it to Helvetica? Gosh, a scholar-to-be’s life is full of hard decisions. There is no running away from them.
I looked at the ceiling with a sigh, which coincided almost exactly with the noise of the door behind me suddenly opening.
“Helen?” I said, turning around to face the woman in the black dress who entered the room where I was working. She looked distressed; although she was moving slowly, almost softly, there was an aura of nervousness about her that I could simply not ignore. Her beautiful eyes looked deeper than usual, and her hands, which would usually be playing with her red hair, were now hanging almost motionless. Worse yet, there was no smile on her lips. “Did something happen?”
Mistress Locks Up His Penis
Mistress Locks Up His Penis
She stroked me to waken and reminded me she hadn’t let me cum last night, or the one before, or for a long time. “How long has it been since you’ve cum?”
“6 1/2 weeks I said.” She took my balls gently and asked again more firmly, “Do not lie to me. I want the truth. Have you really been completely chaste all this time?” “Yes Ma’am, I have really.” I pleaded.
“I know you play with it all the time. I know you get hard during the night and I’ve seen your hands move toward playing with it with me right next to you. You don’t really think I believe it’s an accident when you “find yourself” between my legs do you? It’s not, IS IT?”
“No Ma’am,” I pleaded when she squeezed my balls hard. She released with an order to get out of bed, get her coffee and bring it back with her hairbrush. I started to say something but resigned myself, this was what we’d agreed to. I had asked her what she thought of Femdom and when she admitted it intrigued her, I confessed my secret yearning for it. In one evening a few months ago I went from casually asking her opinion to begging for her dominance and pledging myself to her discipline.
She nodded to the nightstand and I set her coffee there. Propping her back up on pillows, she held out her open hand for me to hand over her hairbrush. Ordering me to kneel on the bed in front of her, she raised her knees and used one foot to tease my penis to a fast hardon.
“I know you haven’t cum and I appreciate your honest effort Sweetie, but to tell the truth I’m not completely satisfied. Are you?” “Yes Ma’am i am because…” “SHUSH!”, she cut me off, “Yes Ma’am or no Ma’am will be sufficient. And another thing, stop moving and rolling your hips around at me. You are not playing with my foot, I am playing with your penis. Is that understood?” To which I began a long series of Yes-Ma’ams.
“Do you want to do as you’re told? Do you think you can? I doubt it, you’re hard right now and you are under specific orders not to get hard without asking permission, right? Listen Sweetie, when I told you I wanted to control all of your sexual pleasure and make you dependent on me for all of it, you begged me-BEGGED me to make your penis my slave. You recall? Did you mean it? I thought so and fyi, I like having a penis slave and have no intention of ever giving it up. You like that thought don’t you? Yes, it would seem so by its response.”
“Did you use the rest room while you got my coffee?” she asked matter of factly. I had. “Well I didn’t. Lean over and you can be my toilet again this morning. Do-not-spill-a-drop-understand!” This new twist was getting more habitual, and I was pretty sure she intended to keep on using me for her toilet on a a fairly frequent basis. Two things were obvious. She was getting more and more sadistic in her sense of dominant degradation and I was sinking deeper and deeper into humility before her. Which I guess is what we wanted.
She finished and ordered me back to my knees. “Now, before we get back to my hairbrush all over your bottom for last night, here’s what I’ve decided to do about your penis from now on. Since you can’t or won’t control your erections, I’m going to go ahead and lock it up.”
“I’ll be using a real cage that will never even allow erection while you’re in it. It’s a real lock and a real key and I will have it and you won’t. The rules are getting simpler. Your behavior has landed you in penis prison. Once I lock you in, your only way out will be when I’m in the mood to tease you. And from now on, your penis will truly be my slave because every time I unlock it, your hands will be cuffed behind you. You will never be able to play with yourself. My hands will be the only hands you feel and the ones you’ll go crazy begging for.”
“Oh Sweetie I know! I see it in your face. I know you’re scared about submission you can’t escape. I know you want it too. I can tell by the way your loins are almost gasping for breath. Do you want to cum right now. Go ahead, this will be your last…Don’t touch…No…I won’t either. This is your last chance if you want to cum go ahead…
…Okay Sweetie that’s enough…I love you for trying but that’s ok. I’ll take care of your penis from now on. Now I want you to lie on your back and eat me while I put this on you. You’ll have to lose that erection or I’ll have to use these hairbrush bristles to get rid of it for you.
“I thought about just letting you go,” she said, shifting her position on the massage table so he could work on her inner thighs, smoothing, pressing, removing tension.
“See, what I like is the chase,” she’d told him many times. “I like to get a guy hot for me, desperate for me, begging on his knees. Then I like to break him and take him down. Get him used to my ass on his face. Get him into taking a good beating whenever I feel like giving him one. Take him with the strap on like he’s the girl. Turning him into my personal servant, my housemaid, my total slave.
“But…” he sputtered. He’d stopped massaging her. Normally that would have
End of Part One.
Copyright Permian Systems 2008.
Originally posted 2009-07-07 21:26:48.
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