Uylesses Equisite Femdom Erotica Looks like Ulysses / Youlysses F/m and stories site is defunct.
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The slave shall notify the Goddess immediately or as soon as possible in the case he has an erection. Such notice shall include, without prompting, the full reasons for the slave’s erection.)
I explained that I had been too sick and busy to even get a hard on. Goddess said She was not sure She believed me, but would give me the benefit of the doubt, so I have escaped that one.
In one of his writings Estragon talks about how much deeper into submission a man can be drawn by his Goddess when She dominates him in front of other women. (I can’t remember the exact story, but they are all a spanking good read, and recommend them all to anyone who has not read them).
I am fascinated by the concept of making my submission to Goddess clear to any and all females we encounter. The idea of presenting myself in public as a slave to my Goddess is one that makes my cock rock hard. But this is countered by a natural (?) reluctance to stick myself out as openly submissive in public. So when push comes to shove, and we are in the company of one or more other females, whilst I do not dominate, I have never actually applied the rule above to the full. To be fair, I have had little opportunity to do so.
On these occasions Goddess is always very clear to insist I serve Her. I must put Her food on Her plate and take it to Her, prepare and bring Her a hot water bottle, clear away the dirty plates, make tea after we have eaten, bring Her Her nail things if She requires them – whatever Goddess requires I provide. Goddess does not Herself lift a finger or get off Her chair the whole evening. My mother has now come to accept this as the norm in our house, and I detect that Goddess gets great pleasure from presenting Her dominance and my submission to her in this way.
But to date I have failed to clearly communicate our Femdom Supremacy relationship to other females, and I fear the consequences once Goddess has punished me for failing to communicate this to Amanda last Saturday. I am excited and hugely turned on by the thought of having to make this clearer to all other females in the future, but am at the same time reluctant to do so properly. This illustrates quite clearly to me the need for Goddess to provide regular and extremely painful and thus effective discipline and punishment – to ensure that I do not allow my shyness and fear of humiliation to affect the way in which I interpret the rules and serve Her.
Rule 3 – Evidence of submission and service to Females and others appointed by the Goddess
The slave shall serve all guests and ask Goddess if unsure about serving any guest.
The slave shall particularly serve all Females over the age of 12 years, making his submission and Goddess’ dominance obvious to all Females. For the avoidance of doubt, for slave to have followed this rule to perfection, Females must be quite clear that slave is the submissive and Goddess the dominant.
This principal of evidence of submission shall apply equally to Female family members as well as non family members.
If slave and Goddess ever interact with any Female other than in the briefest passing, and slave fails to communicate the Femdom Supremacy relationship, slave shall not be deemed to have attained perfection and shall be liable for punishment.
I asked Goddess about this this morning, seeking Her advice. I explained that I did not think that I had communicated my submission to Her during our outing with Amanda last Saturday. She had not reprimanded or punished me, and now I was confused as to whether or not She required me to apply this rule as stated.
I raised this matter with Goddess cautiously. I do not want to be telling Her what to do or how to interpret the rules. She once determined that I had done that and thrashed me soundly for doing so. But on the other hand, I did not, and do not, want to be communicating my submission to Goddess’ friends in any clear way if She does not want me to.
Goddess explained that it was not up to me to interpret or question the rules. The rules were there and should be followed, always and without fail. She said that She had noticed that I had not communicated my submission to Amanda, and that She had determined that I should be punished for this. However, we had been too busy on Sunday with me preparing to go away. She explained that she did not punish me for this last night as I was not well, but that once I had recovered She would be punishing me for failing to clearly show my submission and Her dominance. So in due course I am to roll the dice.
Goddess also pointed out that I had not reported any hard ons while I was away, as I should have done, and asked why.
Driving back home yesterday, after a few days of not being dominated by Goddess, I found myself wondering what our relationship would be like. Did She still want me to serve Her as a slave? She had not dominated me by text while I was away, so perhaps not.
I got home at around 6.30 and it was great to see Goddess and the girls again. The kids were having their dinner, and I noticed the sink was completely full of dirty dishes from their dinner, and the dishwasher still full of the day’s wash. Clearly, Goddess had left it all for me to deal with. I deduced I was still Her slave.
I still had a bit of a cold, and told Goddess how bad I had been feeling, but after we put the kids to bed, I presented myself in the usual way, thinking that Goddess might forgive me of my discipline strokes due to my illness, but She did not.
She gave me six hard stokes of the steel cane, commenting that my butt had not seen anything for a few days. They really hurt quite a bit.
When She had finished giving me the six, She stood their with the steel cane in Her hand, and said “I am going to give you one more, hard, punishment stroke, just to remind you how hard punishment strokes are, so that you remember to be good.” And She brought the steel cane crashing down. So that confirmed matters – I am back where I belong – under Her.
Last Saturday night Goddess and I went out for a drink with Amanda, one of Her girl friends, a sexy young lady that Goddess works and is quite friendly with. We went to the pub for a few drinks, and then to the table dancing club. Everybody got quite tipsy and a good time was had by all. Whilst I was the perfect gentleman all evening, paying for wine and champagne and taking care of the ladies, I did not actually communicate my submission to Amanda.
We have a guest at home at present, one of Goddesses girl friends came for lunch. I served them both through lunch, have made them a couple of cups of tea, and done all the washing up while they sat and chatted in the kitchen, observing me. Goddess has summoned me once or twice to do this or that for Her, and I have responded promptly and with humility. While I am happy that I have acted with humility, I am not convinced I have “communicated the Femdom Supremacy relationship” as stipulated in my perfection rules. How on earth wood I clearly communicate this without looking like a total plonker?
Hopefully Goddess has been satisfied with my humility and service. If not, She is obviously free to punish me for it, in which case I would have to roll the dice twice. Assuming an average of five on each roll (because the fucking dice appears to be loaded!) that would be 56 strokes including discipline strokes. I have never had so many! I would die!
One thing is for sure. If Goddess does decide that I have not communicated the Femdom Supremacy relationship clearly, then in future I will really go to town on doing so – though just how, I still do not know!
Slave shall address and answer to the Goddess during all private times, as “Goddess”.
Goddess inserted the above clause into my perfection requirements when we drew them up some months ago. I was surprised when She did, as it actually presents a pretty severe level of submission and domination. We are alone in the house for many hours each evening, and through them I must and do refer to Her as ‘Goddess’.
Every time I refer to Her as such I am reminded of my submission to Her, and more significantly, She having inserted this clause into the agreement, of Her domination of me.
Occasionally I do use a little licence and refer to Her as ‘Sweetie’, ‘Darling’ or some other such term of endearment, but I always make sure, particularly when summoned by Her, to refer to Her as ‘Goddess’.
Goddess has not yet punished me for ever using any other term of endearment, but I always think twice before and after I do so, because punishment hurts, and I do not want to draw further punishment simply for not addressing Her as She instructed.
‘Goddess’ is a fairly powerful word, and quite accurately represents the authority I am glad She has over me. Whilst I do like seducing Her dominant nature by using the term, I must confess that I also find it a little painful every time I do. I fear I need to learn further humility towards Goddess before it rolls naturally off my tongue. Hopefully I am rightly headed in that direction.
Late last year my Goddess took me on a slave hunt with the Femdom society. At that event was a male slave called Nella, dressed as a traditional serving woman. Dear Nella was so polite to all the Goddess Ladies present, that s/he has set a rather high standard that my Goddess Wife now rightly believes I should attain towards her.
On Monday I was a little unpleasant towards my Goddess on a couple of occasions – I went off in a sulk when She wanted me to join the family, and later that day spoke to Her in a less than respectful tone. There was no particular reason for my unpleasantness, other than a hangover of the old days when I did not always go out of my way to honour Her as She deserves.
My Goddess deliberated on my behaviour for a while, and on Wednesday informed me that I would be ‘rolling the dice’ twice for my infractions.
Come Wednesday evening and I presented myself in the usual way. My Goddess Wife handed me the large wooden dice we use and I rolled it once, to get a five, and then I rolled it again. I was so shocked at the five that came up, that I genuinely do not remember what the second number that came up was.
My Goddess explained to me that I must not speak to Her disrespectfully, or be unpleasant towards Her, or I would earn more of the same.
She laid my usual six disciplinary strokes on me with modest strength. Then she gave me the number from the dice, multiplied by five – so that was 25 strokes for the one dice, plus whatever came up on the second dice. Including my 6 dailly discipline strokes I was looking at 31 strokes plus five times whatever came up on the second dice. I was in agony, so I was in no position to count. The last five or ten strokes were given at what felt like pretty much full strength, and I still have bruises on my behind to prove it.
We started using the dice a few weeks ago, following a post I read on the web. The guy making the post explained that his Goddess did a daily inspection of his cleaning work and chores, using a white glove to look for dirt. Any found resulted in a roll of the dice, and he got 10 strokes for each number that came up on the dice. He said in his post (I cannot remember where it was now) that he cried while she inspected if She found more than one infraction, because he knew his butt was in for it. I know what he means. My butt is still throbbing from yesterday’s punishment.
As if that was not enough, later than evening I was serving my Goddess Wife some more food, and She asked me to give Her another spoon full. The serving spoon was large, and I knew that She did not really want that much – She always watches what She eats really carefully. I answered Her in a less than respectful tone and She immediately pulled me up on this, asking whether I had not learned my lesson, and told me that I will roll the dice again this evening.
My Goddess instructed me that if I ever differ with Her over anything then I should beg to differ, and explain as politely as possible how I differed, and then await Her judgement. As always, she is right of course, and I have made a mental note to be more respectful in all my communication with Her.
I have read posts on the web where people advocate against discipline and punishment in Femdom relationships. I find myself unable to agree. My will to serve my Goddess is strong, but I am a week man, and feel further incentive to serve Her better when the penalty for failure is clear and painful. I also feel that failure to honor ones Goddess deserves severe punishment simply for punishment’s sake.
I am proud that my Goddess sees fit to discipline and punish me, and only hope that in time I will learn to server Her with the honor She deserves from a worthless being like me.
On any occasion……when slave is permitted to release sperm into Goddess or anywhere else slave must immediately, without prompting or question forthwith clean away all such sperm using his mouth, swallowing the sperm in order to remove it.
If Goddess ever needs to ask slave to lick up his sperm, or clean sperm away using any other means then slave will not have acted with perfection in this matter and will be liable for punishment.
I am not at all sure why Goddess has not enforced this rule on the last two occasions She has permitted me to come. To be honest, I don’t enjoy eating my spunk out of Her, but that’s not the point. Her rules say that I should. And when She does not enforce the rules, then I wonder whether the rule has ceased applying or not. But one day, if I don’t follow the rules then I will attract punishment I wish to avoid.
I am concerned that if I question Goddess on this, and ask whether or not She wishes this rule to continue to apply, then She will choose to punish me for not having cleaned Her out on those last two occasions. I am already due to roll the dice today, and I don’t want to have to roll it twice.
I can’t decide what to do – just accept that I did not eat Her clean on those occasions and have not been punished for doing so, or ask Goddess for clarification on the rules…It’s all a bit strange. I don’t want to eat my cum, but I do want to serve Goddess in any and all ways She chooses, and I want to avoid any punishment.
Last night, Friday, I got home in time to present myself. Mum was here as usual and so Goddess did not make me roll the dice and I just got my six discipline strokes, which She applied unusually hard.
This morning Goddess’ cock was hard cuddling up against Her and Goddess allowed me to rub it into Her butt, and even let me insert it into Her. However I was not permitted to cum. Perhaps She has something planned for tonight, or just chose not to let me cum.
Last weekend Goddess chose not to make me do any of the humiliating things She made me suggest to Her. I guess I was lucky – apart from the one that I rolled on the dice for arguing with Her. But She’ll have those humiliating things on Her ‘phone from when I texted them to Her, so who knows when She’ll choose to pull them out of Her hat.
“Here first,” Margery ordered.
Then Cressada bellowed, “You get to THIS one first, confound you!”
Malcolm poised ready to plunge the brush (and his face) into the bucket, looked up, bedeviled and bewildered, at the hectoring females. Suds spewed from the brush with the frantic switching of his head from side to side. Then the rawhide began cracking again… and he scrabbled, yammering against the brush handle to remedy his errors. When his oppressivenesses again took their ease he was weak and a-jitter. But under the compulsion of his beloved’s gaze he scrubbed till his mouth was raw, his jaw ached, the sun was setting and the terrace was washed down to her Ladyship’s satisfaction.
Later, en boudoir, Malcolm lay at her feet exhausted, his backside raw, swollen and throbbing remorselessly. Moans bubbled from his tortured lips as he mouthed her terrific boots. “Don’t carry on like that, my pet,” purred Sada casually amused, “I’m hardly through punishing you. Tell me, do you like these pretty bootsies?” His reply was a distracted gargle against a shining marlin-spike heel. “You’ll be oh so familiar with them before I’m done with you.” She rose. “Now, back into your corner until I’m ready for you again. You’ll go hungry this time, sweet… that will do its little bit to teach you to respect my little whims.”
It is at this point that The Whiphand ends, but further installments are promised. Installments that will surely be as ornately written as they are illustrated. All of it is, of course, the purest way-out fantasy, utterly impossible. Yet, nevertheless, quite satisfyingly enjoyable to those with masochistic leanings. Also enjoyable, one might add, to those with leanings of the opposite kind for it is simple for such people, be they male or female, to transfer themselves in their imagination, into the position of Cressada the all-powerful, all-dominating Mistress who has a half-willing, half-unwilling victim constantly crawling and groveling at her feet, for ever at her beck and call, one whom she can humiliate and degrade to the limit, one whom she can thrash and flog to her heart’s content.
There…” The cowhide curled, cracking across his buttocks. “Douse that brush proper and get scrubbing.” Malcolm splashed it – and his face – into the strong, hot suds and lowered his head to the ground. The dirt on the long untended flagstones turned to mud under his nose as he scrubbed with lunging shoulders, biting the brush handle which made a lip-stretching bit in his mouth. Sada kept the thong end of her lash draped over his back, and, from time to time, laid it with a stinging crack across his upended rump. “You’ll scrub harder, you lout!” she bawled in her most intimidating growl. “Lets see you put some back and jawbone grease into that.” Malcolm, eyes streaming from the harsh suds and the brush wobbling in his teeth, felt her bootfoot on his neck jammed the brush on the flagging and the handle, chokingly, up into his mouth. The tiny, sharp-edged steel heeltip dug into his flesh and he shuddered as it pricked through his skin. Sada exerted rhythmic pressure with her long gorgeous leg, thrusting his head down and forward, giving helpful, albeit punitive, momentum to his scrubbing.
Cressada slid her bootfoot off Malcolm’s back when young Margery came sauntering on to the terrace. “Lawdy me!” caroled Malcolm’s pretty niece. “You’re surely making this clean-up day around the old homestead, Aunt. I’ve just come from the stable – your Governess has dear Langdon there now, and hard at it on all fours. Seeing him sweat – after that caning job you did on him this morning – was so delicious I could scarcely tear myself away. Y’know,” she chortled, “I had to resist an urge to get astride the big goof…so’s see what kind of horse he’d make me.”
First he takes his ‘lunch’ on all fours, eating from a dogbowl ‘canned dog food watered down to mush.’ After this unpleasant repast he dresses his Mistress in one of her usual bizarre costumes.
I’ll wear my blonde mink stole, Husband,” said Sada, “furs are most appropriate on a punishing woman.” She selected a longish, sinuous rawhide, and gave it a gunshot snap. Malcolm swathed her wide, alabaster shoulders in the opulent furs. “Down, pup…” Sada jerked his leash. “To heel. You are for punishment for overt delinquence…and an improvement of your appreciation of the spick and span.”
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