Let's Get Physical

Under the cold florescent light, my, for now, clothed butt cheeks rested against the thin paper draped over the black exam table. It was that time of year again, my annual, Goddess ordered, physical. All the blood work was done and my specimen collected, yes that specimen!

Now I sat, in my briefs, waiting for Dr Alison to enter.

Dr. Alison being a stunningly cute, 30 something, physician. Goddesses personal M.D., and another of the whip smart, professional Women in Goddesses Female Supremacist circle, known as ‘The Coven.’

Dr. Alison is also the M.D. Who does all the physical exams for the guys at the club, a program started at Goddesses suggestion. She is also a not infrequent club goer who gets to see the male dancers up close in another sort of professional setting.

In other words, Dr. Alison was fully up to speed on my personal relationship with Goddess, and in full agreement with the underlying philosophy, She being One who lives the same lifestyle Herself.

That of course was a relief to me, not having to explain anything intimate and awkward to Her.

After what seemed like an eternity sitting there in the cool exam room air, I heard the door crack open as She entered.

Of course being a Member of the Coven i was expected to greet Her formally. Leaping up from the exam table i dropped to the floor at Her feet, bowed my head to Her black pumps, placed my hands flat on the floor and replied.

“Good Morning Dr. Alison”

“Good morning ethan”, came the reply in the soft but cool and professional voice.

She left me there on the floor as She went to Her desk for a moment.

Returning to stand next to me She gave a simple command,

“Stand”

Obeying instantly i rose on my feet and took notice of the delightful raven haired Goddess standing in front of me. Her nerd Girl glasses doing little to hide the fact that She was a stunner. Eyes of penetrating intelligence and full luscious lips would make any male stop in his tracks.

She, however, wasn’t one for much nonsense in Her professional setting. A slight smirk soon crossed Her lips, the one She always seems to have when i see Her.

“Remove your underwear and stand on the scale.”

Direct and no nonsense, that’s Dr. Alison.

Slipping my thumbs into the sides of my briefs i made a bowing motion as i slid them down my legs to my ankles and stepped into my full nudity in Her presence. i walked to the scale as i had several times before, stood up straight and looked directly at the opposite wall as Dr. Alison examined the scale, and entered my measurements into her tablet.

Next came the measuring tape. I could feel the soft warmth of Her, even through her open lab coat as She wrapped the tape around the width of my chest, then my waist followed by each bicep, then each thigh. All, methodical, and professional. These i knew to be the official measurements, for Goddess, for the Coven, and for the Club. Dr. Allison being the official statistician of male dimensions.

Without comment, but with the sly smirk on Her lips. She next lifted my flaccid cock, and pressed a ruler against my pubic bone. All very cool and professional, the data point collected.

“Could you get hard for me ethan”

i knew this was coming. Every year it's the same ritual. She collects the same measurements, soft then hard, even though there isn’t any chance my length has changed one way or the other.

It was a ritual with which my compliance is ‘man’datory.

“Yes Ma’am” came my required response. Handjobs not something forthcoming from Dr. Alison no matter how much i might fantasize about it, i took my limp shaft in my right hand and began working against the coldness and slight awkwardness of the setting. With some effort and some cold sweat i got myself to full length.

When She was satisfied Dr. Alison again placed the ruler over my pulsing length as i pulled my hand away.

“Still 6 inches” She commented, this time with an almost Girlish tone, Her smirk having broken into a slight smile.

We/we both knew that this little ritual was nothing more than an exercise in obedience and humiliation, my response to which would no doubt make it back to Goddess. Therefore, compliance wasn’t an option.

With that done and my cock slowly deflating She next cupped my balls for a through examination, working Her fingers around one, then the other, feeling me up for abnormalities. She had no misgivings about pressing as hard as necessary to satisfy Her, causing me to audibly gasp a couple of times.

Releasing me, She again entered something into Her tablet before moving to the next step.

“Lay across the exam table, and spread your legs.”

Again doing as ordered I pressed my torso across the crinkly paper, spread my legs, exposing my backdoor and tried to relax.

A moment later i felt Dr. Alison fingers pressed against my right butt cheek as She tried to make some relaxing small talk as She probed the entrance.

“Does your Mistress use a strap-on on you? This exam is usually easier and not so unpleasant for guys trained with a strap-on.”

“Yes Ma’am, sometimes”, with a quick motion and slight gasp from me She was in. It’s not so much the penetration that’s unpleasant so much as the firm pressing motion as She works Her way around. That and my trying not to enjoy it too much. She also took Her time, being through is a Dr. Alison trademark.

All the while i just pressed my face to the table waiting for the end. i noticeably trembled when She pulled out. It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t unpleasant either.

Taking a moment to examine my back, She noted, “Those whip marks don’t look too bad, obviously your Mistress is an expert. Do you have any issues related Her discipline, apart from the stinging pain, I mean.”

“No Ma’am, i accept Her discipline and punishment completely.”

“can you sit on the table ethan?”

I complied again, resting my naked ass cheeks against the cold paper.

Finishing off by taking my blood pressure and listening to my heart beat, again the data was entered and She returned to Her desk.

“Let’s take a look at your lab work”

She quietly examined Her computer screen for a moment, scrolling with the mouse.

“Everything looks good ethan. Your blood pressure, cell counts, blood sugar, PSA, triglycerides, cholesterol are all good. No STD's, your BMI is excellent, you're obviously keeping very fit”, She gave me a quick glance as She said that. “ Your sperm count and motility are pretty good, at least for a male these days.”

"The only anomaly I can see is something I notice with many of the ‘boys’ in the Coven. Your testosterone is a bit low and has dropped notably since I first started examining you. I don’t think this is much to worry about, like I said I see it in many guys like you. It seems to be a consequence of your, shall I say, status. The more submissive males become the more their testosterone drops off, the more their testosterone drops off the more docile and obedient they become. Its pretty amazing actually."

That last bit She almost laughed at.

“I think the physical act of submission, of being in sub-space, of accepting punishment and discipline at the hand of your Mistress actually rewires the male brain for obedience, damping down dangerous male aggression and destructive male behavior. It would make a neat scientific paper. I should pull all the data together and present it to the Coven. I’m sure the Girls would be delighted to see that.”

“You don’t have any problems getting an erection, do you?”

“No Ma’am”

“Good, you can get dressed now.”



P.S. For more on this theme please  see this earlier post



 

Friday Femdom Art : She Shatters the Ordinary and the male

i know posting has been thin of late. i have just returned from from serving Goddess on an extended business trip, which was pretty much all business, with little time, or web access, for blogging. 

i absolutely love this photo. It reminds me of a little incident i had in the city a while back.

What's so striking about this image is the way the very ordinaryness of the street is shattered by this sublime, intimidating Goddess entering the scene. Like a bolt of lightening She radiates pure energy. Her sensuality and authority seizes the male gaze all the while telling him very clearly that She is coming for him.
 

One/one can imagine being that male, frozen in lust, confusion, excitement and nerves. Wanting Her and fearing Her.

Everything about Her communicates Her intentions. Her exposed toes in erotic gladiator style footwear, the wind that sweeps aside Her dress to reveal the sensuous shapeliness of Her skin, the way She lifts Her hemline, offering Her prey an intoxicating glimpse of irresistible Feminine pleasures,  the fullness of Her lips, windswept raven hair, the expression of One that treats males as Her playthings, toys for pleasure and service.

She stuns men into submission.

She is everything males desire but male desire is of no concern to Her. She will use them up and leave a shattered, lovelorn, spent husk, moving on to the next, a trail of male tears flowing behind Her.

Inspiration

Every so often it's good to be reminded of a males place in the world vis-a-vis our Superior Goddesses. we males exist at and for Their pleasure.

Keep that always in mind, live it fully, and a male will find his true purpose.

So many males i feel are adrift in the modern world with its increasingly Feminine orientation. If only more males accepted their true natures much of their inner turmoil and conflict would evaporate.

Women would be happy and Their males would find true bliss, happiness and purpose also.

Skills

One of the first things Goddess told me when considering my worthiness as Her submissive and starting a relationship with me was that a man has to be "usefull" and have "skills."

Accordingly She has kept to that philosophy such that each September,  at the start of the school year i'm signed up for some sort of class. A couple of years back it was cooking class which notably sharped my kitchen skills and repertoire.

This week is the start of baking class. At first i'd kind of assumed that i might find myself alone among a group of Women in this class, a remnant of patriarchal thinking i know,  but much to my relief and surprise about half the class is made up of males. More than a few of whom admitted to me that they had been sent their by their significant Other to sharpen their domestic skills, some were even accompanied by their Goddesses.

One male said he was there to enhance his chances with Women because he was finding it rough going on the dating scene where it's becoming the norm for Women to demand that males, you know, "have skills."

Is the path to a Woman's heart through Her stomach? Undoubtedly there's something to that as men increasingly find themselves in the kitchen where they are expected to perform.

Perfect Specimen

Gracefully i poured Goddesses morning coffee as She lay back in the comfort of Her favorite chaise, Her satiny kimono barely clinging to the tawny curves of Her magnificent statuesque frame.


Flipping my chain leash behind my backside i placed the coffee pot on the side table and returned to my place, on my knees at Her feet, raising up my hands only to offer my leash chain, which She took, casually pulling its end loop across Her petite wrist as She flipped open Her iPad and extended a proffered, naked foot to my eager waiting mouth, yanking on my leash for emphasis.

As i set to work on Her sumptuous foot i realized just how much my jaw still ached from the hours spent worshiping at Her Sex overnight. Lately Goddess had become insatiable, She has taken to wearing extra black eyeliner, noir lipstick and having me paint each finger and toenail in a lustrous piano-black finish. Her moods and appetites had turned equally dark and unquenchable. The feel of the whips black leather seems to fill Her with  lust so intense that no opportunity to please Her isn’t first preceded by my flesh being set alight by the flames of Her whip. Each slash seemed to fuel Her desire even more. Only when She felt i’d shown sufficient  submission and degradation did She toss aside the cruel implement, strut towards my broken frame, grab a fist full of my hair and march me to the bed. Roughly tossing me back-first onto the mattress as She tossed Her panties aside and mounted my face.

Eagerly my tongue lashed out to taste and pleasure Her, finding Her already sopping wet with desire. The flaming marks on my back pressed into the sheets reminding me of my obligation to satisfy Her and the very real consequences of failing to do so.

my hungry, eager, licking and flicking of Her engorged clit pushed Her higher and higher until the first shattering orgasm crashed ashore and She ground Herself against by face, drowning me in Her liquid lust.

No sooner had She come down did She ease back, look deeply into my eyes and mouth ‘More.’

And more She would have. Grabbing my wrists She pressed them into the mattress, fingernails pressing into my flesh, as She eased Her hungry sex back to onto my mouth.

All the while my manhood remained tightly locked in its cage, pressed desperately against the steel, dripping, hungry, hopeless.

The message was unmistakable. The only pleasures, desires, and needs that mattered were Hers and Hers alone. The cravings of any male were of no relevance and my submission to Her will combined with the ministrations of my mouth, lips and tongue were of greater importance to Her than my imprisoned manhood. In fact it seemed to make the whole experience that much more intense, that much hotter for Her, knowing all my attention was on Her and Her alone. She meant to extract every atom of pleasure i was capable of giving even if that left me a spent husk , dried out and rubbed raw. So be it. She would be satisfied only when She decided.

After untold pleasures sat atop my face, all the squeals and moans of ecstasy, She finally extracted Herself from my raw, sticky mouth and lay against the pillows, opening Her sex to me, slowly and teasingly. She crooked a finger and pointed to Her inflamed clit and of course i crawled to my Mistress and lay my mouth upon Her sacred Womanhood and continued my offerings for hours more.

Ecstasy and agony, Female and male, Take and give, the dance continued though the hours of the night, We / we were oblivious to the universe, all that mattered was Her pleasure.

Even now in the morning, at Her feet i still savoured the intoxicating taste of Her on my mouth as i once again opened wide, extending my eager tongue to engulf Her toes one by one, swirling around each shiny, black lacquered toenail, becoming once again lost in an all consuming quest to pleasure and worship my Goddess. Turning my head to slip my tongue under Her foot i caught a maddening glimpse of the delicate gold anklet resting just above Her ankle, the shiny little key She had looped though it just to mock me. This was of course the key to my tightly locked sex just hanging there, daring me to grab and free myself, knowing of course that i never would. i wanted no part of being anywhere but at Her feet. No male without a Female is truly free.

Not that the continuous oral worship of this magnificent deity over the past many hours hadn’t left me grunting in desperation. Once again my manhood tried to burst from its cage and once again it was firmly repressed. This repeated cycle had left me aching and dripping in an animal state of complete and total lust, lost in my quest to raise Her to a state of ecstatic joy. Somewhere perhaps my animal brain was thinking that if i just pleased Her enough perhaps She would also allow me some measure of pleasure as well.

Of course Goddess had by now thoroughly disabused any notion that a male should have any expectations when it came to Her.

Expectations are a Woman’s prerogative, a males are to submit to, worship and obey the Female.

I groaned and ached as i continued to lap at Her soft foot in all its nudity driven on by my quest.

Then catching me by surprise She spoke.

“Stand up”, breaking my mouth from Her lovely toes i did as commanded and rose before Her.

Next She simply pointed for me to stand at Her side as She pulled Her leg up and unclasped the delicate anklet and took Her key in hand. my eyes traced each move of Her long tanned leg in admitted insolence, risking punishment, yet unable to pull my gaze from Her hypnotic motions. 

Without hesitation or ceremony She lifted my cage, resting it on top of Her hand and pulled out the padlock which held the vile metal tube to the thick steel ring at the base of my cock and ball sac.

Before i could even grasp what was happening She had pulled my cage free and my cock sprang forth like a stallion bolting from the barn, the stinging numbness of my desperation  subsided as blood flowed once again.

i was nearly overcome with emotion as a simple pointing gesture told me to resume my position of worship at Her feet.

i sprang into action, devouring her toes and licking at Her foot with a new found fury as the full length of my manhood dripped rivulets of pre-cum onto the floor.

I burned with passion for Her.

The i heard it, a slow building moan from high above as my servile ministrations hit just the spot. Long slow ecstatic sounds flowed from Her as She pulled hard on my chain leash. It was the sound of an Angel to my ears as it built slowly to a peak and then just as slowly come down.

i admit i took visceral unspoken pleasures in Her joy.

Soon i heard her opening the drawer of the side table and fumbling with what sounded like a plastic bag.

Seconds later i heard a plop on the floor at my side. Glancing to my left i noticed a transparent ziplock bag with a yellow-capped plastic bottle inside.

“Jerk off into the bottle” was all She said as i fumbled to open the bag, pull out the small bottle, remove a sticker labeled “sterile” and twist the cap loose. i noticed the mouth of the jar looking just about wide enough to get my swollen cock-head through.

my mind swirled as i struggled to understand the ramifications of Her command but my body didn’t hesitate to take any offered opportunity for pleasure even if it meant using this humiliating plastic jar as a hopelessly inadequate proxy for Her Devine Sex, which it had now become, by Her own command.

i eagerly placed the opening of the jar over my throbbing, desperate cock-head and once again devoured Her delightful toes while i grabbed my full length and began stroking myself with ever rising intensity, edging myself a few times just to ride the wave of this rare pleasure.

It was all too much and with one last stroke, struggling to keep the tip of my hungry cock in the jar, an explosion of ecstasy overcame me as my pelvic muscles went into automatic contractions and the hot, ropy cum shot out into the jar in successive waves as i squeezed out every last morsel. my mind was overcome by a long seizure of pleasure and i groaned wildly as i devoured Goddesses toes in a mindless fever of passion. i barely register the “swoosh” from Her iPad as a text was sent.

Sweating profusely, heaving deep breaths i slowly rode the subsiding pleasure waves into the “little death” when for just a moment the male mid sees clearly , free of the invisible, mind bending chains of the Feminine Beauty.

Here in that moment i looked down into the plastic bottle as i tightly screwed the cap. Noticing the grey, milky fluid swish from side to side i was struck by the thought that my swimmers, just as suddenly as they were allowed to burst forth in joyful freedom where instantly captured and locked up just as their creator was. their moment of freedom was an cruel illusion. They being just as surely Goddesses possessions as i was.

For an instant i felt overwhelmed by deep shame at allowing this bewitching She-Wolf to so completely own me that i would sit for hours just licking Her feet, endure her countless humiliations and punishments, allow Her to imprison the very essence of my manhood just to please slightest Her whims.

i wasn’t a man so much as a thing, a pet, a servile, docile and humbled piece of property existing only for Her.

Yes, these thoughts flowed over me for in a moment of ‘clarity.’

In reality it was a moment of nonsense. One glance into Her intoxicating, liquid blue eyes and Her benevolent spell was re-set and i descended deep into joyous submission to my Goddess.

i had just resumed my humble footwork when i was started by the ringing of the doorbell.

Early on a Saturday morning?

“Go answer it, and take your specimen with you”

Grabbing the bag with its trapped male essence, i reluctantly made for the door.

Reaching it i took a deep breath, turned the handle and pulled the door open. i knew by now never to show any hesitation about my state of undress when answering the door in Her home, She was very matter of fact about these things.

As the door opened i was surprised to find a striking, young, raven-haired Woman standing there. I was instantly struck by Her searing blue eyes and felt instantly submissive and looked down towards Her shoes. It was a moment before the silence was broken during which time i felt She was giving me a full look all over. I felt suddenly very aware of the fact that the only thing i was wearing was a stainless steel, locked, collar around my neck, my chain leash and another smaller steel collar hanging from the base of my semi-hard cock and plump ball sac.

Then She spoke, with a tone more stern than i expected from Her casual demeanor.

“Well, do you have it?”

It, i suddenly realized, was the few spoonfuls of my seed i held in my hand.

“Yes, yes Ma’am” i said simply, lifting the bag for Her to receive.

She took it, swirling the bottle a few times, i’m sure making my ‘boys’ cower under Her intense gaze.

She shot me a quick half smile, turned and was gone.

my mind swirled at the strange events of the morning though i knew by now never to expect an ordinary day in Goddesses world.

Tired, aching, confused, covered in sweat, my cowering cock sporting white crystalline  specks of dry cum,  collared and humiliated yet blissful.

 With rising hunger for Goddess i simply dropped to my knees, then onto my hands, i bowed my head and crawled back to Her feet.

It wasn’t yet noon, the day was young.


 

PLAYGIRL as Early CFnm / FemDom

i've always felt that Playgirl magazine deserved some credit as an early source of CFnm and FemDom, or at least Fem Supreme inspiration. i grew up in a household with a stay-at-home dad who was naturally submissive towards my bread winner Mother. Trust me that wasn't so easy in the recent past, and not simple to explain to my friends. Today that isn't unusual of course but i was always raised to show respect and deference towards Females. That example has of course served me well and Goddess even better.

my own feelings of submissiveness you might think came simply from the environment in which i was raised, and i won't argue that it played a significant part. However i think it goes much deeper than that. i have always felt hardwired that way and i believe, based on my own experiences and extensive observations of human behavior and relationships that males in general are fundamentally submissive towards our Female Goddesses.

The very first time i looked at a Female and felt those stirrings i just knew with every fiber of my being that She was in every way my superior. i craved nothing more than to fall at Her feet and worship Her.

i saw first hand how males fell all over themselves like a stupid pack of animals vying for Female attention, how these mesmerizing beauties wielded Their sexuality like a weapon against which males had no defenses.

Yet the wider world looked nothing like a place that reflected these obvious truths. It was a world of males run amok, where men held the wealth and power and the imagery of selfish, animal-like, male oriented porn drenched everything.

It was also a world on the cusp of revolution, the seeds were planted and soon enough Women would rise up and begin the long push back.

Yet sometimes when home alone I would slip into my parents bedroom and find a stack of Playgirls. Whose they were i was never sure but inside those pages i found a world much more like the one i envisioned and felt was true.

i know full well that Playgirl was a flawed concept in that it tried to create a 1:1 equivalent of playboy, in doing so making the mistake of thinking that Female and male sexuality were essentially the same. In doing so it also attracted a gay following probably greater than its Female one.

Nevertheless the concept was essentially correct for in those pages i discovered what seemed absolutely natural to me, that males could be sexually objectified by Women, that men could be stripped naked for Women's pleasure and subject to the Female Gaze. Here it was natural for males to be placed in an inferior if not humiliating position for Women's amusement.

This was a revelation and at least a beginning validation of my own feelings and beliefs.

Here on these pages, like in the world of my peers, Women were the Powerful Superior Sex and males their play-toys.

It wasn't the images of nude men that interested me but the nude men in scenes with clothed Women  who spied on them as they masturbated or felt up the naked men causing their uninhibited arousal to be put on full display for the camera. Here was CFnm in its infancy and FemDom too. These Women were in charge and took pleasure in Their power just as the stripped males took pleasure in submission to Their sexual aggression and hunger, and no doubt at the idea that countless thousands of Women readers would  be analyzing every inch of their fully displayed flesh.

For all its flaws and silliness Playgirl has to be credited as an early voice of Female Sexuality and male submission to it. 

Friday FemDom Art : The Chaste male and his Mistress

Programming note : These may be the languid late days of summer but its been a furious season for Goddesses property. We/we recently concluded a visit by the fearsome Mistress Victoria and her entourage of male servants, i returned to stripping at the club, carried out my weekly service duties at Mistress Emma's and acted as a 'teaching aid' for Mistress Emma's newly acquired males, acclimating them to Her household and the Coven, yes, more than one male BTW. On top of that it's been my annual medical checkup time with Goddesses personal physician Mistress Dr. Alison. Don't worry all will be recounted in due time.

For today though i want to continue my Friday FemDom Art series.

Today i present two pieces on the theme of a Mistress and Her naked, locked, male.

The first image, by TSR it seems, is rather playful. The voluptuous mistress holds Her male around his torso, rather possessively, Her fingers pressing his flesh, pulling him into Her web. Her expression to me seems to be that of mischievousness mixed with the intensity of a predator. Her hand on hip signals confidence while her males arms rest passively at his side communicating acceptance and openness. The artist has clearly spent time working out the Woman's features, from the full curves of Her Breasts to the width of Her hips, taking time to highlight the sensual flesh of Her exposed thigh while Her dark, imposing clothing forms a V ( for Vagina? Victory?) as it slides from Her legs.

The male is rendered rather simply, collared obviously, his expression playful yet fearful as he anticipates the pleasure and pain  he knows full well She is capable of. Tracing downwards along his torso We/we encounter his caged and locked manhood. Repressed yet dripping with excitement due to the sensual attention of his Goddess.

my overall feeling about this image is mixed. i enjoy the clean lines, the clear F/m differential yet am annoyed that his submission is not portrayed deeply enough. How dare he stand in Her presence let along make direct eye contact.

It's a playful yet somewhat unfulfilled image.

This second image is more to my liking. The male rests, naked upon his knees, head bowed and eyes downcast in the presence of such Feminine magnificence. His hands are pressed together as if in prayer to his Goddess. A thick ring fastens his semi hard cock into its slotted cage. his cock too seems downcast, locked and bowing in submission to its rightful Owner. The males knees press into a red carpet, red being the color of seduction, passion, anger and violence, all of which could be interpreted from this scene.

Towering far above the cowering male We/we see his Mistress. Hands placed on Her hips with confidence and arrogance, Her wide stance reinforces this impression. In one hand She fingers a crop, widely regarded as a symbol of Female power and authority over males and suggesting that punishment or discipline is close at hand. The artist has rendered the Mistress in fetish attire, thin strips of fabric suggestive of erotic dance yet at the same time allowing Us/us to follow the taut sensual curves of femininity.
Haughtily, Her bare Breasts squeeze out from the tight fabric straps, fully exposed, tormenting and commanding males to bow down before them. One other detail that didn't escape my attention was the color of Her hair. It seems rendered in an unnatural shade of purple, or at least purple stripes. To me this suggests the She is free to treat Her own body as a piece of art whilst Her males fulfill their natural role as tools for Her pleasure and service, obedient, docile and eager to please.

The Greatest FemDom Artists of Our/our Time Blog about Their Work and Thoughts

Undoubtedly many of You/you are familiar with the works of Nanshakh and Sardax, two artists who define the genre of FemDom art. These two seem to capture the magic of male submission to Feminine Power and Beauty like few others

Did you also know that they blog about their work.

Nanshakh, though far from a frequent blogger, has written a few articles digging into the  ideas behind his creations as well as pop culture and artistic references. His art is pure fantasy to be sure but its scenes of countless chained males kept under the whips of the haughty, arrogant, entitled beauty of their Owners is every males fantasy rendered in sublime detail. It"s my understanding that Nanshakh's real life also follows that which he creates, worshiping the sublime Goddess Herself, Saharah Eve, whose intimidating beauty and graceful arrogance he has incorporated into some of his work.

Sardax, on the other hand shows and describes his many exquisite, commissioned, artworks of real life Dominate Women often rendered with his own spin on the fantastical. Sometimes strange, and bizarre, yet always stirring the submissive male nature and giving true honor to these divine Women.

Consequences II

The following night i was summoned by Goddess to Her personal study, usually off limits, except with explicit permission.
The voice over the intercom speaker in the kitchen seemed cool and unemotional, just a simple           “meet Me in the study, now.”

Hurriedly i stripped away my kitchen apron, which revealed in all its cruel splendor, my new unyielding ‘appendum.’

Where once stood the full length of my eager, happy, manhood, now rested a glinting metal stub, whose cold heft tugged at, mocked, and crushed any pretense of male ego or pride. Notions that have always been an anathema in Goddesses Feminine realm.

The past day had been a strange and difficult time for me, struggling to adjust to a new reality.

Normal cues of arousal, bowing down at Goddesses feet, placing a kiss upon a lacquered toenail, a glimpse at Her sensual curves, a soft touch or a sharp snap from Her crop, would normally illicit an near instant physical response, my rising, pulsing, hungry and eager manhood. Normal, and usually welcomed, by Goddess as the physical display of Her Feminine Power, my response, a source of such joy, was no longer permitted.

Even the early stirrings of an erection were instantly pressed against the steel slots of my newly fitted cock cage. Every attempt to extend and pull free was restrained by the interlocking rings. The physical pain and discomfort  swirled with the emotional and mental confusion.

i soon found myself trying to control my arousal , a previously unthinkable idea, trying to deny, and somehow, with limited success, distract myself from the physical pleasures that being in Her service brought with it.

Gradually i came to understand that this harsh device wasn’t just a physical demonstration of Her ownership of my very maleness. It also represented the breaking of the psychological link between my service to Goddess and the physical pleasure i obtained from it.

It enforced a new reality, that being of service to and worshiping Her no longer brought with it any expectation of my own physical pleasure. my totality now being subsumed into the service, obedience and worship of Her Divine Feminine Spirit. This i will come to understand intellectually and mentally, free from the selfish physical distraction of male sexuality.


 i hurried to the study, first knocking lightly on the heavy wooden door.

“Enter” responded that same cool voice.

Pushing the door open i walked quickly to the center of the room, bowed to Goddess who was seated behind Her desk, dropped to my knees, then quickly bowed my head, pressed my face to the floor while cupping my wrists behind my back. This simple gesture of submissive obedience having been drilled into me countless times by Goddess with the assistance of Her riding crop until each motion, position and cadence had been honed to Her exacting standards.

There i awaited Her bidding as my mind drifted in thought. The past day had been filled with unusual tension. My explicit and humiliating dressing down at the office in the presence of Mistress Emma had been followed by a strange unease. Goddess exhibited no further fury or open scorn towards me, just an odd icy chill in Her interactions, a sense of anger that She refused to articulate.

Suddenly i heard Her rise from Her chair and the click of stiletto heels rapidly approaching me. Stiletto’s seemed unusually formal for this time of night, which added to my sense of dread.

Stopping about a meter in front of me She simply commanded “kneel up” and i rose to my knees, being sure to keep my head bowed and eyes downcast which seemed to be just what She wanted. From this viewpoint my eyes caught sight of scarlet lacquered toes and ascended the slope of Her petite foot wrapped in the black straps of Her pumps and lingered about the orbit of the thin gold anklet that crowned the limits of my vision.

 Soon enough i felt the stirrings of my arousal and the grunt inducing pain of its steely repression.

She knew full well what She was doing yet refused to acknowledge my plight.



“On your feet boy”

i rose obediently again keeping my deferential pose, hands behind back, head bowed but filled with uneasy curiosity.

“Lift your cock”

As ordered, with one hand i lifted the steel tube  and pushed it flat against my abs.

Goddess then stepped into my space, wrapping Her soft hand around my fully exposed forward trusted ball sac and without a seconds hesitation squeezed hard followed by a tight twist. I yelped in agony, involuntarily bending as if that could ease my suffering.

“Stand up straight, did i tell you to bow?”

“n...no...no Goddess” i managed to gasp while trying to pull my self erect which only served to tighten Her grasp.

“Better”

Whatever pretense of an erection i had before this point evaporated as my cock shriveled backwards deep into its cage.

“It’s pathetic that its come to this, after all Our/our time together, after all My training”

“I thought you were fully trained, fully obedient, able to think with something other than your cock”

“Well it seems We/we need to take a step back to basics”


Without mercy or hesitation She released Her tight grip and  delivered a hard open palmed slap to my dangling balls.

Instantly doubling over in pure gut-wrenching agony i dropped to the floor and reflexively tried to protect myself.

She wasn’t having any of it.
"Stand UP!"

Slowly and with great difficultly i struggled to my feet against wobbling knees and waves of dull pain.

Once i was upright again She followed up with a series of hard open palmed slaps across my face until i was stinging and red.


Stepping back She took a long careful look over Her handiwork, Her slight smirk suggested satisfaction.

She then turned away, strutted arrogantly to the desk and perched Herself on its edge. Crossing Her legs She simply pointed down to Her dangling stiletto heeled foot, expecting instant comprehension and obedience.

Which of course She received.

Dropping to my hands and knees, head bowed i crawled to Her foot, placing soft kisses upon each tow before slipping under Her shoe to lick its sole with long, slow, stokes, followed by the repeated  engulfing of Her sharp heal in a heated round of tongue swirling, mouth pumping, shoe fellatio.

i became enveloped in subspace and consumed with proving my devotion to Her as my Goddess and pleading for the privilege of being Her slave, of knowing that my place was beneath Her, at Her feet in abject,  total awe of Her Divine Feminine wisdom and beauty. For this i would accept any task, any humiliation, any whim with total submission and obedience.

Through all this i struggled to contain my physical arousal, suffered though the steely repression, feeling the weight my cage bounce up and down as the wild beast within struggled against its captivity, dripping tiny translucent rivulets of lust through the bars to the floor below until, in pain and futility, it calmed, seemingly accepting its fate as the caged, broken, and owned, property of the magnificent Goddess high above.

Somehow Goddess seemed to sense this final surrender.

“Good boy”

“Now listen carefully. Like i told you yesterday I’ve welcomed Emma into My circle and as a welcoming gift and as a gesture of apology from you I’m lending Her your services on a regular basis, at least until She establishes a male Harem of Her own.”

“I don’t see any reason to delay this so first thing tomorrow morning you’ll head for Emma’s”

“ you’re expected at 8 AM sharp. Not before or after. If you’re early or late expect to be punished.”

“Pick out something appropriate to ware in the city but keep it minimal, no underwear. I’ve emphasized the importance of protocol to Emma so show Her your full respect. In Her home the standard rules apply. No male clothing allowed, get on your hands and knees to great Her like a proper male, and strip off. I’ve given Emma total authority over you while in Her home so We both expect your total obedience and the perfect execution of Her orders. Emma won’t be there most of the day of course, She’s a busy career Women after all but don’t worry She created a list of tasks that will keep you busy while She’s away”

“We’re meeting for dinner so when We return to Her place We’ll expect a full accounting of your day and a careful inspection of your work”

“If anything is less than perfect there will be consequences and you can expect to redo anything not done to Our standards”

“Perfection, am I clear!”

“Yes Goddess, perfection”

“Good, now go finish what you were doing in the kitchen, and find your clothes for tomorrow”

“You can take the Smart car into the city”

And with a click of Her finger I was dismissed, crawling backwards out of Her presence i dared not stand until safely on the other side of the study door, which i carefully closed behind me.

Who Says the Universe has No Center

 

A simple glance at such perfection suggests otherwise

Programming note : Goddess will be away on business (Her business :-) over the coming weekend and says She may grant me permission to do some blogging! 

UPDATE: Goddess and Mistress Emma had planned a weekend out of town to interview prospective harem boys for Mistress Emma's stable. Alas plans fell through at the last minute (the males are still eager but Goddess had some business issues that needed urgent attention). Don't worry however Goddess has told me that as She once again lengthens my leash blogging time will get some attention.

Absense makes the Heart Grow Fonder?

i know, i know. i've been kept away from the blog for quite some time and apologize for that profusely. Goddess has kept me on a short leash since the 'incident' and i've been gradually allowed to returned to working for the club while She has also donated my services to Mistress Emma for the express purposes of giving Her a taste of the benefits of male service as She continues Her quest to establish a male harem of Her own. So my time has been split in multiple directions leaving little time for the blog.

i will try, Goddess allowing, to give You/you all some of my attention as well!

-EJ

Friday FemDom Art

This week lets turn Our/our attention to the classics, in particular classic sculpture. Even centuries ago human nature was obvious to Those/those who bothered to think deeply about it. male artists of all forms elevated the Feminine to divine status, placing males literally at Her feet. This i believe reflects the simple feelings of inferiority, lust and confusion felt by males in the presence of Feminine beauty and energy. Here We/we see the Female placed on a literal pedestal, a deity to be worshiped and adored as the wellspring of all male desire and pleasure. The burning star around which males orbit, trapped in Her mysterious gravity, the very origin of life itself from which all males are birthed.

In Her awesome presence he is reduced to kneeling beneath Her, only worthy of touching Her legs, nuzzling their alluring sculptural form, drawing close so as to inhale Her scent, which only serves to tighten the invisible chains She uses to enslave his soul.

In the background We/we see a second statue of a male gently holding the Female in his arms, protectively and tenderly yet beneath Her. he casts his gaze upwards to Her sublime face as if placed in a trance by Her beauty.

Art reveals the true nature of Humans/humans.