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.

CHEVAL SERPENT - A Genre Twist for Modern Times

That Feminine Joy is Hard to Hide

Below is a short promo clip for a TV program on Radio-Canada (en francais) called Cheval-Serpant (Horse-Snake). There's nothing remarkable about the overall premise from what i can gather. It's another routine crime/politics/corruption drama. What is unusual however is the fact that the show revolves around a male strip club catering to a Female audience. Even more remarkable is the authentic feel of the Women actors in the audience and Those waiting to get into the club. That vibe, that enthusiasm, looks very familiar and genuine to me. The main story line doesn't seem all that interesting but these club scenes really grip me as it's clear the male actors do actually have to perform and do indeed strip down in front of the Women. Bare male flesh , including bare butts, on ample display. It also seems the males have to display all their assets to the Female actors, if not to the camera (oh well). i was also impressed by the quality of the men's performances which show genuine enthusiasm and talent. i also love the reactions and expressions of the Women when the men finally reveal all. That glint of hunger and power is unmistakable. i suspect those reactions look genuine because they very much are, talk about method acting.



The shows title is also telling. Yes, it hints at classic mafia type films but it doesn't take much imagination to interpret it as literally a show about male stallions showing their cocks, which is of course the basis of the whole show. At it's core this is a show premised on the sexual objectification of men by and for Women (note also the scenes with the clubs Female owner.)



For these reasons alone We/we have here one of the first truly modern TV programs and i would hope, an example for others to follow.

Here's the shows official description :

Caught in the midst of a culture clash, the Cheval-Serpent fights to survive
The Cheval-Serpent is a notorious male dance bar that is always busy thanks to the hard work and watchfulness of owner Dorice McQuaid (Sophie Prégent) and manager David Gauthier (Guillaume Lemay-Thivierge). A unique, iconic place in the heart of Montreal, the Cheval-Serpent helped build the city's image as a haven for freedom, openness, partying and pleasure that was never challenged by former mayor Bernard Saint-Pierre (Paul Savoie).
Following in his father's footsteps, Laurent Saint-Pierre (Daniel Parent) has recently been elected mayor. He's a family man of a different generation. In his view, the time when sex-oriented businesses proliferated downtown is over. Montreal has to welcome visitors of all ages.
In a city where he calls the shots, the Cheval-Serpent is in for a rough ride.
“ Writer Danielle Trottier, the creator of one of Quebec's biggest TV hits of recent years, Unité 9, delves into another world that's just as daring and original: that of strip clubs for women. ” – Hugo Dumas. La Presse

Friday FemDom Art

Here's a little end of week feature i'm starting here today. Showing a simple piece of art, a photograph, painting etc. that symbolizes and resonates with Female Supremacy and Dominance. i''ll begin with this simple photo which i think you'll agree fits the bill. The obviously Female foot, clad in a stylish, Feminine shoe presses down on the naked males ass. Her stiletto bites into his flesh possessively and with absolute authority, pressing him beneath Her. Here it's the curves of a muscular male that are displayed as to be sexually pleasing. he is clearly bent down under Her heel, on hands and knees. His skins glows, covered in sweat from some strenuous activity, perhaps encouraged by the sharp end of Her whip. Here the male is stripped of clothing and rendered not merely as a sexual plaything, but Her, submissive, sexual plaything.  The red tones symbolize passion, lust and aggression where the Female is the dominant, lustful aggressor and the male Her bowed down, conquered prize.

So much in a simple photograph, don't You/you think?

Emma : Consequences

Easing into the parking garage, my mind whirling as i directed the car into Goddesses personal parking spot. I quickly opened my door and circled behind the car to open Hers. Offering an outstretched hand to ease Her exit, being sure to keep my eyes downcast and fixed on Her alluring black boots. I didn't dare say a word, keeping to Her oft repeated ethos that “boys should be seen but otherwise 'shut the fuck up’. ’’ On this day that seemed more relevant than ever. i scrambled to lock the car as Her knife sharp Domme heals clicked across the cement towards the lift. The ride up seemed longer than ever as waves of fear and dread welled up inside me. i remained silent and fixated, not at all certain i would survive the day. Visions of being tossed out on the street swirled through my mind. Exiting the lift I scrambled to the office entrance only to find it locked, Goddess gave me a curt 'move', brushing me aside as She keyed in the combination. Hearing the click of the lock i scrambled to pull the door open for her.


The offices of Her firm were dark and empty, it being quite early and the weekend. I moved quickly to turn on the lights, successively as She passed through the office corridors towards the back rooms, paying me no attention what-so-ever as She strutted across the office. Finally reaching the door to the large conference room called 'Athena' (it said so on the small plaque by the door), She dipped into Her handbag, retrieving a white key-card and held it against the sensor pad. A short beep was followed by a metallic click as the door unlocked. She pushed the door open Herself, not allowing me time to do it for Her. I followed nervously behind dreading what was to come.


The door closed and locked itself behind Us / us. "Trapped by Athena' was the strange and odd thought that flashed in my mind.


Not being sure how to proceed i tried to resort to my training but Goddess, by now half way towards the end of the conference table, simply pointed a red lacquered finger tip towards the center of the room and gave a single terse command, "there."


Swiftly moving to Her desired position I pulled off my shirt, undid my belt, pulled down my pants, and then, without hesitation, my briefs.  Quickly i put everything in a neat pile behind me. Standing briefly before Her, i noted that She was paying me no attention as She worked to adjust the room lighting from Her seated position in a large leather chair behind the table. She dimmed the perimeter lights and cranked up the beam aimed at my location, leaving me standing in an intense circle of light, from here She became barely visible to me. Even in the dim shadow however, the catch light caught the slight glinting of Her golden hair, piercing eyes, full lips, and merciless curvature.


Taking a deep breath I bowed my head and descended to my knees. Taking another slight pause I stretched out my arms, and bowing, i pressed my face to cold floor, stretching my knees further apart, feeling my balls drop as i lowered myself as much as possible in Her awesome presence.

 Exposed, vulnerable, i felt the cool air from the A/C waft over me.


There i remained, kneeled and bowed and silent. Desperately hoping that this gesture of submission and obedience might demonstrate my complete surrender to Her will.


After several moments of deafening silence She spoke,


"I thought you'd enjoy the being in the spotlight, huh stripper-boy?"


It wasn't a question, more of a sarcastic putdown judging by the ice-cold tone of Her voice.


On this day the Queen would hold court and pass judgement.


i dared not speak a word or move even a millimetre lest anything be interpreted as the slightest hint of disobedience.


And I waited...and waited...and waited, in total silence. The intense heat from the overhead light competed with the chill from A/C as i struggled to hold my prone position. Discomfort flowed through to misery as the minutes ticked by.


i was left waiting for my trial to begin, that it would begin i had no doubt.


Thoughts of forming some sort of defense flickered in my mind but each time they were crushed by the cold hard reality that i was, in fact, guilty. i had no excuse for letting another Woman, a virtual stranger, have Her way with me. i hadn't been given any such permission. i had betrayed Goddess and even worse, fully enjoyed the whole degrading experience.


Goddess would have every right to dismiss me, toss me in the street. i was sure my new side gig as a stripper was finished. After all it was Goddess who got me the job in the first place. Not only that, She was an investor in the club and would make sure i never worked there again.


i was finished, i just knew it. Visions of being homeless and living in the street flashed before my eyes. It was no exaggeration to say my fate rested with Her.


What kind of job could i get? How could i support myself out there. Serving powerful dominant Women had been the only real work i'd done in ages. i could just imagine what my CV would look like...


Work Experience:


male stripper


kept man


boy-toy


Skills:


Cooking, cleaning, laundry, gardening, chauffeur

erotic dancing, full body massage, cunnilingus, boot licking


That was about it. i'd allowed a succession of Women to effectively control every aspect of my life. i owned virtually nothing, no money, no car, no property. i’d long given up earning any income or even handling money. i didn’t even have a bank account let alone a credit card. i was a completely owned man, totally dependent on Goddess for life’s essentials.


i was beginning to freak out. All i could think to do, when the moment came, was drop myself at Her feet and beg, beg, beg, for forgiveness. i'd eagerly accept any punishment She demanded.


That's what i'd do. It was all i could do.


It's what i wanted to do. If it meant licking the bottom of Her shoes everyday for a year then i'd lick the bottom of Her shoes everyday for a year.


That thought made my cock stir.


'Focus ethan’ for fucks sake, focus.


Just then i was jolted from my swirling thoughts by an electronic beep and the recognizable sound of the conference room door unlocking.


 A cold sweat enveloped me. Who on Earth could that be?


Goddess didn't seem to react as the door opened and I heard the sharp precise, clicks of stiletto heels striking the floor in a rapid cadence.


From the corner of my eye i caught a pair of leopard patterned stiletto heeled pumps flash past.


That was all I could see.


After the clicking stopped, there were a few unintelligible whispers and i heard what sounded like another chair being pulled away from the table.


Still They, yes They were 'They' now, kept me waiting.


Then as startling as a gunshot Goddess spoke at last.


"Let's begin"


“ kneel up boy"

Slowing, dreadfully, i struggled to my knees, quickly cupping my hands behind my back, signalling ‘no resistance.’

i blinked my eyes, trying to make out the dim, though obviously, Female forms seated in the shadows, my heart sank when the unmistakable shape of Emma came into focus.

‘Why?, How? How did She get here? Why did she have a key card to this room?

Instantly i bowed my head, casting my eyes to Their feet under the table.

i felt like a fly trapped in a web about to be devoured.

Goddess continued.

“I assume you know why you’re here, Ethan?”

“you’ve met Emma, i gather?

Mortified i couldn’t speak.

“What’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue?”

“no Goddess, sorry Goddess”

“Well, aren’t you going to say hello to My Guest?”

“Yes Goddess. He..Hello...Em...Emma”

Silence, then Goddess spoke again.

“Emma? Emma? Is that how I trained you to great a Female, and a guest of Mine no Less?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, demanded Goddess, for the first time raising Her voice in a gathering fury.

“Sorry Goddess, welcome Mistress Emma”

“Better”

Then for the first time Mistress Emma spoke. Gone was the sly, playfully dominating Vixen of last night. Now She responded almost without emotion though with a soft Feminine voice.

“Thank you, ethan”

Goddess continued, “i assume you know why you’re here so i’ll dispense with asking you to explain yourself. I couldn’t care less about your excuses. This isn’t a trial, it’s a sentencing.”

Her voice had returned to it calm, cool tone yet still filled with thinly concealed anger.

“Nevertheless lets review what happened last night, just so We have it on the record”

Record? Was She recording all this? Broadcasting it? Is that why She brought me to the conference room. my heart raced, my mouth became dry. i girded myself to recount the whole humiliating sequence of events.

“i..i..”

“What the fuck are you doing? Did I tell you to speak?”

Mortified i shut my mouth instantly.

“For the record I’m going to give Emma’s account of events, no one gives a damn about anything you have to say”

“Lets begin. Last night Emma was able to grab you by your cock. She then proceeded to march you by your member across the club, in full view of Everyone/everyone, pull you up the stairs and down the hall to the training studio. Once in there Emma pushed you back against a beam. She then pulled your wrists behind the beam and handcuffed you there”

At this point there was a pause and i head faint giggles that seemed to come from both Women.

“Emma then gave you a handjob and you came all over the floor, making a disgusting mess”

There was a small pause.

“Excuse Me, Emma informed Me that She in fact ruined your orgasm”

“Is that right boy? Answer Me.”

“Yes Goddess”

“Yes Goddess? Yes Goddess what?”

“Yes Goddess . i..i..i ejaculated, but i didn’t cum”

“Seriously?  you had this beautiful, sexy Woman stroke your cock and you couldn’t even get off?”

Her voice spit venom and condescension.

“You do think Emma is beautiful don’t you boy?

“Yes Goddess”

“I’d say so judging by the amount of attention you lavish on Her. I remember how you couldn't wait to show me Her business card.”

“Perhaps you should apologize to Emma for not fully accepting Her gift”

Lifting my head slightly i looked towards the fiery red-headed lawyer Who now sported a barely contained smile.

“i’m so so sorry for not accepting an orgasm from you Mistress Emma”

Goddess then interjected,”You did intend to get him off didn’t you Emma?”

Responding through laughter, “fuck no, I wanted to ruin him,” came Emma’s response.

Goddess just smiled and looking back towards me and simply stated, “never mind then, you weren’t supposed to get off.”

“Lets continue. After you made your mess Emma ordered you to drop to your knees, which you did, like a good boy. Emma then tossed the handcuff keys across the room and left you in a spent sticky, heap, locked to the beam.”

“Does that sound right Emma?”

“Yeah that sounds right”

Goddess then looked strait towards me, Her crystal blue eyes burning.

She began to circle around the table, slowly, the menacing click of Her heels drawing near to my position. She paused, reaching into a large black leather travel bag resting on the edge of the table, from which She pulled out a black leather riding crop. She swished it through the air a couple of times as if to consider if it would do the nasty job She no doubt had in mind.

Click, click, click, click and She Stood tall over me. i literally trembled in fear, covered in cold sweat.

She just stood there looking down at me for a moment.

“I don’t mind letting the Women in the club play with you, I don’t mind that they feel you up or grab your ass or stroke your cock. That’s why you’re there after all”

“But”, She continued as She grabbed a fist full of my hair, pulling me up, “BUT!”, She kicked my legs apart and i spread them in compliance.

“BUT!” She continued nearly screaming as She let go of my hair and grabbed me hard by the ball sac, twisting and pulling downward.

Moaning in agony i bent forward trying in vein to relieve the pressure but She was having none of it. Pulling me forward by the sac the verbal rebuke continued...

“BUT I thought it was always clear that YOUR BALLS BELONG TO ME!”

She was coming at me like a Woman possessed. She tightened Her grip even more, then swinging violently downward smacked the tip of the crop against my helpless nut sac.

i collapsed in a devastated heap at Her feet but She didn’t skip a beat. She instantly began whaling the stinging crop against me in an uncontrolled fury. my whole frame radiated sharp, burning stings. i tried instinctively to raise my arms in self defence but this only fuelled Her fury.

“Don’t you dare! DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO PROTECT YOURSELF FROM ME!!!”


With that She added a series of furious boot kicks to the swings from the crop.

The pain of the individual blows blurred into stream of agony. i remember trying to reach out to Her boot thinking that if I could just kiss it maybe it would calm her storm, but i couldn’t seem to get close between blows.

i just went limp in surrender, beaten down and humiliated. Finally Her rage seemed to recede. She kicked me one last time, and in such a way that clearly was meant to get me to roll over onto my back. Once there She pressed  a stiletto heeled boot hard against my chest.

“I thought it was clear that you belong to me, that you’re my property. Is there something about that you failed to understand?”

i meekly turned my head from side to side to indicate agreement but that wasn’t good enough.

“Say it, I want you to say it” She virtually spit at my face.

“i...i’m your property Goddess, your slave” i bleated out without thinking.

The use of the ’s’ word seemed to calm Her somewhat.

“Damn right” She stated matter-of-factly, releasing Her boot from my chest and pressing it firmly against my lips.

Without hesitation or any hint of male ego i lapped my tongue furiously against the bottom of Her proffered boot in total supplication, pleading if not for forgiveness than at least for a hint of mercy from Her furious wrath.

She kept Her boot pressed to my lips as i licked continuously, not daring, not even wanting, to stop.

Shamefully i felt my cock twitch, ‘oh fuck no’

Goddess just burned into my eyes with Hers, taking in the desperate boot licking while not seeming to notice my cock stiffening behind Her.

“When did i ever grant you permission to get intimate with another Woman? WHEN?”

“never Goddess”, came a weak reply”

“You didn’t even try to get yourself out of that situation did you? Emma made you Her bitch and you didn’t even try to resist”

“Did he Emma?”

Emma cleared Her throat, “ No, No he didn’t”

Emma, i’d forgotten that She was still there, taking in this degrading spectacle.

“I think it was pretty fucking disrespectful of you to go waving your cock, spitting your sticky man seed at Her. Did you actually think She was going to fuck you, is that why you followed Her upstairs?”

“Don’t you think Emma deserves some retribution for your disrespect?”

“Pathetic loser!”

With that She raked the sole of Her boot roughly across my extended tongue and stepped back to survey the beaten heap of a male at Her boots.

“Fuck me, you actually dare to get a stiffy”

Oh damn...

“Pathetic males, We can whip them, beat them, grind them into submission and the more We break their will, the more excited they get, the more they want Us. Don’t tell me they don’t make natural slaves.”

She looked towards Emma as She spoke.

Emma sat there quietly, as if deep in contemplation of the whole scene. She seemed a bit taken aback yet at the same time the smile that creased Her lips suggested approval, maybe even enjoyment.

Turning back towards me Goddess stepped between my legs and swung Her boot into my exposed balls sending me twisting in wrenching pain, moaning and gasping.

Without the slightest consideration of my plight She came forward, once agin grabbing my hair in Her soft, feminine hands, pulling me upwards She marched me to the wall at the back of the room.

“Assume the position” She spat out. Shoving me towards the wall She released my hair. I reached out to the wall with my arms, spreading my legs far apart as the sharp clicking of Her heels receded in the distance.

i just leaned my hands against the wall and tried to control the pain from the burning welts forming from the crop blows, the dull pain from the boot kicks and the twisting, crushing, radiating pain in my shrunken balls.

I tried to steel myself for the next round as thoughts flickered through my mind. Emma? Why was She here? Shouldn’t Goddess be furious with Her for taking advantage of me? Instead They seemed Sisters in arms.

Was the whole thing a set up, a trap They set for me. Was this whole harsh punishment scene just a demonstration for Emma? What was going on here?

i didn’t have long to think as the receding heel clicks did an about face and once again moved towards me.

Suddenly i felt Her soft warmth against my side but was jolted back to reality when She roughly shoved a coiled black whip under my chin, forcing my head upright.

my heart sank in despair knowing full well how She got off on whipping me in front of other Females, how She absolutely loved the raw demonstration of Her power.

She said nothing, having made Her point silently. Stepping away from me i heard the familiar dreaded ‘wupple’ of the uncoiling whip. Breathing heavily i braced for the inevitable. Medium length, black braided leather, serpent forked at the tip. i knew that fucking evil thing oh so well.

Without saying a word i heard the lightning quick swish of the re-coil just before the first fiery crack stuck my shoulder blade, a fraction of a second later the inferno engulfed my mind and i gasped audibly.

The all consuming fury of Her rage channeled itself  through the tip of the Her cruel whip again and again and again.

Everything became just a blur of burning pain and degradation. When gasps and moans finally gave way to pure honest screams, when it was clear that i had passed the breaking point, that point where Her whip wins and the male surrenders unconditionally, uncontrollably, in body and mind.

Broken, then just a little more. That’s where She stops.

Through the pain i just hear Her heavy breathing, the rage subsiding

Broken and owned. Sometimes She just needs to put me in that state, just to remind both of Us/us where things stand.
Especially so on that day.

My mind was reeling and muscles trembling, trying in vain to shake off the pain when i heard another set of clicking heals approach.

Emma.

She slid up to my side, radiating a fierce heat as She now held the whip, pushing it under my nose, its deep leather scent engulfed me. What was that other faint scent? my burning flesh?

She continued to push the evil thing against my face, moving it over me, and for an instant Our/our eyes locked.

In a flash i no longer saw that glint of mischievous, playful sexuality but instead the fierce concentration of a predator.

I almost instantly looked away in fear.

“I’m going to whip you and then you’re going to apologize to Me. Is that clear enough?”

Managing a hazy “yes Mistress” i bowed my head and slowly noticed two things, Emma’s leopard print  shoes and my own stiff, pulsing erection.

No one witnessing the scene this morning would doubt what i truly am.

A total slave to These remarkable Women. one whose natural state of submission was fully on display.

Lost i mumbled Goddesses mantra, ‘submit, obey , worship”

“What was that?” Demanded Emma.

“Submit, Obey, Worship” i spoke louder.

“Again!”

“SUBMIT, OBEY, WORSHIP” i repeated.

“Damn right boy”. She seemed pleased.

Leaving my side, the clicking of Her shoes receded, stopping when She reached the required distance.

my aching body trembled and dripped sweat, unable to stop the inevitable. Already defeated, adrift in subspace, and resigned to what lay beyond.

No male ego, no male pride, just acceptance, submission, obedience and yes, astonishing arousal. That ironic, twisted psycho-sexual cocktail that for eternity has  bowed males before the awesome, mysterious power of the Female. It has been and always will be the very essence of nature Herself.

The first few strokes from Emma were, thankfully, tentative, moderated, reflecting i assume Her simple lack of experience.

This was made up for by surprising enthusiasm that with each passing blow, gained intensity and fury until i yelped and squirmed and moaned. my increasingly hopeless situation just elicited laughter and a casual cruelty from Emma, not unlike that final fast flick She’d given my desperate manhood the previous night, knowing full well it would ruin me and leave me melting in a pool of unrequited lust for Her.

At last She finished, seemingly satisfied that i’d been finished.

“Turn around”

Achingly, slowly, i complied, almost tip towing gingerly until i faced my tormentors.

“Would you fucking look at that!”, Emma nearly squealed in astonishment and delight.

‘That’ being my rock hard dripping erection, standing there for All to see. Through all the pain and degradation i’d been put through i came out the other side lusting for them more than ever.

“See I told You”, responded Goddess, “males need firm discipline and they love Us all the more for giving it to them.”

 “But still that’s fucking perverted”

“males are nothing more than perverted animals led around by their cocks. Without Women they’d be completely useless.”

Emma just smiled and stared at me.

“Get over here ethan. on your knees in front of us”, commanded Goddess.

I descended as ordered, crawling to Their feet in supplication.

“Don’t think a little whipping is the extent of your punishment”

i struggled to comprehend this, what more could She do?

“I think I’ve been far to lenient with you, and you’ve taken advantage. That’s not acceptable and it stops right now”

“From today I’m making some changes and reining in your privileges”

“Firstly you can forget about your dancing career for a while. It seems to me you’ve forgotten why I let you go there in the first place and now its become about your selfish male ego. So, that’s done for now. If I let you go back it’ll only be because you’ve earned your way back into my good graces and because you know and act like you know why you were sent there in the first place.

“Understood”

“Yes Goddess”

Inside i was crushed by this one but not surprised given everything that happened. Truth be told She was right. I’d gotten carried away with how much fun i was having and had become selfish.

“Good”

“Next. You’re done with the internet for awhile. Computer access is a privilege for males in my household and not required for your service to me. So I’m putting that on ice as well. you’ll get it back when you earn it.

“Now for disrespecting Emma. Don’t think that getting a little whipping is enough to make amends. Emma and I have become quite good friends of late and She’s really enthusiastic about adopting this lifestyle. In fact She’s eager to acquire a little collection of servile boys, isn’t that right Babe?”

“Yeah a male harem of My very own”, giggled Emma.

“So I’ve agreed to not only welcome Emma into the Coven, but also to help Her make that happen. We’ve set the wheels in motion but that will take some time.”

“So, to make amends, and to show Her some of the benefits of this lifestyle I’ve decided to lend you to Emma for one day each week. you are to clean and detail Her condo, top to bottom until every surface shines to perfection, until any laundry is done to Her standards, until any errands are complete and whatever other menial service tasks She requires are done. you’ll do all tasks exactly as directed and to Her standards, no excuses and no compromises. you’ll do it until it’s done right and if you fail let Me be clear, there will be consequences. “

“So Emma dear, be sure to work him like a dog and treat him like you own him. Enjoy!”

“Oh I will, don’t worry about that.”

“Next, seeing as how you’ve gotten so lax lately I’m instating daily discipline sessions as a station reminder. you might recite your mantra by heart but I’m going to drill into your head day after day the real meaning of ‘submit, worship,obey’ until I’m satisfied that you live and breathe those words with every fiber of your being.”

“Is that clear?

“Yes Goddess, very clear”

“Stand”

i struggled to my feet, through the pain, keeping my eyes cast downward”

Goddess stepped into my space and wrapped Her soft fingers menacingly around my ball sac.

I flinched as She turned and pulled me to the table next to the whip bag. Releasing me, She turned the bag over dumping its contents onto the table. The metallic clanking grabbed my attention. That’s when I saw it.

There in a pile lay a stainless steel cock cage with a heavy looking steel ring, a padlock, and a small key.

my heart just sank. Never in all Our/our time together had Goddess ever hinted at wanting to lock me up. In fact She made of point of enjoying, mocking, and teasing my open arousal.

Those days were over.

Without a word Goddess picked up the heavy steel ring, shoved it roughly over my balls , and bent my rapidly deflating manhood through the cold metal. Next She slid the slotted metal tube up my shaft and aligned it with the clasp on the ring with a firm push.

i literally felt my cock retreat into its cage and with a final motion the lock was slid into position and snapped shut. Goddess made a point of showing me the key before whisking it away, out of sight.

I just stood there with the weight of the steel pulling down on me and the chill of cold metal against my most intimate parts.

i don’t think i ever felt so emasculated and impotent than at that moment.

Goddess just lifted the steel tube, as if contemplating it’s weight, security and implications.

Leaning into my ear She whispered,

“Mine”

It was such an erotic gesture my cock tried to leap for joy but instead rammed into the cold steel bars of its cage, defeated, surrendered to the will of its Mistress.

I moaned in pain and frustration, trying to will my cock down. An almost hopeless task. i began to contemplate a life with a whole new level of submission and suffering.

Without thought or a shred of male pride i just dropped to my knees and planted a wave of adoring kisses on Her boot.

Owned. Possessed. Locked. In total joyful submission.

These feelings flowed over me in waves as i worshiped the boots of She who owned me, body and soul.

With a gentle kick She pushed my mouth off Her boot and simply directed me to kneel and bow at the center of the room as before.

“Emma and i are going for brunch. I’ll collect you when we’re done. Stay here as you are until then”

With that these two formidable Goddesses departed leaving me swirling in subspace, contemplating all the changes to come.