Serena and Alice vignettes

As long-term ‘readers’ will know, I’ve written quite a few stories about Serena and Alice. These are among the most violent and twisted stories I’ve ever managed, featuring almost non-stop torture, murder and the non-consensual breaking of the laws of physics. If you don’t like that sort of thing, then you’re a sick weirdo, don’t read them. That said, the castrating and branding and suffocating and boiling alive and murdering and crushing and drowning and drilling and electrocuting and all the rest of it is really just the background for what is always – at heart – a simple love story.

Cast of characters:

  • Serena: a sadistic, murdering mad scientist genius. Serena is in love with:
  • Alice: a sweet little blonde nymphomaniac, who loves animals and environmental causes, as well as sadism and murder. Alice is not a genius but she loves Serena and also enjoys torturing and killing:
  • various males: not worth introducing in detail as they never last long.

So anyway, here are some Serena and Alice vignettes – little things not much more than a caption. The first two are a bit Easter-themed, which is what reminded me to post this.

Bunny girl

“So, knowing how much you dislike cruelty to animals, I thought you’d like to be the first person to see my display of top executives from the cosmetics industry!” Serena concluded triumphantly.

Alice gazed through the glass at the row of heads held tightly in medical-looking braces, with wide staring eyes gazing back at her in panic. Above each eyeball was the tip of a glass pipette, each apparently filled with a different liquid.  “How do you keep their eyes open like that?” she asked, wonderingly.

“If you look closely, you’ll see the eyelids are held back with little wire hooks” Selena replied, happily.  “Now come on – press the button to start the chemicals.”

And she indicated a large red button, to which Alice uncertainly extended the manicured tip of her finger.

“Nasty men… hurting all those poor little bunnies” she murmured, and pursed her lips in disapproval as she pressed.

Easter eggs

“I mean, it’s almost as if we’ve forgotten the true spirit of Easter”, Serena complained.  “It’s all just chocolate eggs these days!  So I wanted to try to bring back some of the solemnity and deeper meaning of the occasion.”

Alice nodded, gazing down at the terrified naked man strapped tightly to the hard wooden cross in front of them.  “So can we start, then?” she asked, hefting her hammer as if to try out the weight.

Serena handed her a nail.

Medical play

“Actually, when I was young, I wanted to be a nurse” Alice said.  “I had the outfit and a kit and everything.”

Serena nodded.  The thought of her young blonde friend in a tight white nursing uniform was a very pleasing one. 

“I got into a bit of trouble once, actually” Alice went on.  “I bound up a boy’s broken arm, and all the grown-ups were upset because they said I should have called them straight away. It did set a bit crooked when it finally got better – they were so cross.”

“Did they stop you playing nurse after that, then?”, Serena asked.

“No, not just then.” Alice replied.  “But a few months later I broke it again to see if I could get it a bit straighter, and that’s when they took the kit away from me.”

“Grown-ups can be such killjoys” Serena agreed. “Umm… if I were to fix up some kind of medical theatre and got a few patients for you to play with, do you think you might…”

Her voice trailed off, as she found herself feeling oddly shy.

“Dress up as a nurse for you?” Alice asked, arching an eyebrow. “That’s a bit kinky.”

She grinned at the sight of her friend blushing.

“Oh, you sweet, dear thing – of course I would! Now, do you think we could get some of those medical saws, and do amputations? Oh, and a little electric circular one for drilling into a head – I’ve always wanted to try that!”

“Whatever you like” smiled Serena, hugging her friend and thinking – not for the first time – how lucky she was to have such an angel as her girlfriend.

Obviously this is a picture of Margot Robbie (actually two Margot Robbies but you can only see the second one’s hands), not Serena or Alice. But the medical procedure they are attempting is one our two medical heroines pioneered, so I thought I’d include the picture.

My Little Pony

“So what was the kinkiest thing you did as a teenager?” Alice asked Serena, as the two lovers lay naked and exhausted together on the bed.

Serena thought a moment.  “Oh – pony play, I suppose.  There was a boy who asked for that, and I thought why not?”

Alice giggled.  “I expect you gave him a few more with the crop than he’d bargained for!”

Serena pursed her lips and frowned slightly.  “Oh – I only gave him a few strokes, really.  Just so he’d know what he’d be in for if he ever complained to anyone about being gelded.”

A stitch in time

“You’re awfully good that that” Serena said, admiringly.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Alice replied, working efficiently away with her needle. “It’s functional enough, but it’s not supposed to be artistic – it’s surgical stitching, not embroidery.”

“Are you going to stitch his other arm to his side, when you’ve finished that one?” Serena asked, trying to keep her mind on the task in front of her and not on the sight of her young blonde friend so delightfully filling out a nurse’s uniform.

“Hmm… I dunno. Maybe. It’s just practice really: you’re not supposed to sew all over the place, like this. But I’d already done his nasty boy bits into a neatly sewn-up package, so I thought I’d attach his arm permanently to his body, that’s all. Oh – and I sewed his mouth up to stop him talking.”

“That’s a neat job too” said Serena, leaning over to inspect the surgical thread holding the patient’s lips together. She stroked the stitching gently, enjoying the muffled shrieks of pain and terror. “Maybe you could do his eyes, next?”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Alice replied. “But it would be nice to work on stitching some actual wounds together, like a proper nurse.”

“Well that’s no problem! Where would you like him wounded first?”

Also not Alice, although I believe this image is similar to how she looks in her uniform. I tried checking with some of boys who had acted as patients for her, but I couldn’t find any that survived.

Brainiac

“Eugh – is that a human brain?” Alica asked with horrified fascination, as she peered into the glass tank.

Serena nodded.

“Near as males can get to one anyway. It belongs to that ginger lad you brought in a few months ago – I hope you weren’t too attached to him?”

“No, no…” Alice replied, distractedly.  She paused. “Although he did have a lovely cock. I don’t suppose you might have kept…?” Her voice tailed off as she saw her friend slowly shake her head.

“No, there’s nothing left but this. I have this mildly acidic solution that dissolves away everything except nerve tissue.  It takes a few weeks but believe me, his lovely cock will have been eaten away with the rest of him. Slowly and extraordinarily painfully.”

“Ah well” Alice replied. “I suppose there are plenty of others.”

She tapped on the glass.

“So now he’s just a brain?”

“Not quite” smiled Serena.  She reached out and clasped Alice’s fingers in hers.  “See all those little filaments in the water?  Those are nerves.”

“Oh right. So he’s still got his whole nervous system?”

“No, just the pain receptors. Several thousand of them, providing the only input to his consciousness.So what you see here is a boy reduced to his most important essential characteristic: the ability to feel pain. He can literally do nothing else. ”

“Ooh” giggled Alice. “So how do we – ?”

Serena pressed a button.  A light blue glow suffused the water.

“Like that” she said.  “Right now, all his pain receptors are firing at maximum. From having experienced nothing but black, deadly stillness and silence for days, he’s now experiencing a total pain overload – a universe of agony.”

“Gosh” said Alice and she gazed intently at the brain, floating in front of her, lit gently by the blue glow. As she moved in position, the little filaments briefly caught the light and sparkled, like a spider web.

“That’s um…”

“Well, I mean, it’s…”

She paused.

“Actually… it’s a bit boring, to be honest.”

Serena sighed.

“I know. It’s disappointing, isn’t it? I mean, it’s lovely to think of him screaming silently in unimaginable agony in there, but it’s not a very impressive spectacle.”

She brightened up.

“Oh – but I have something in the next room I think you’ll like better.”

“I can think of several things we’d both like better” smiled Alice happily, squeezing her friend’s hand as she was led off.

“Oh!” she said, struck by a sudden thought. “Did you switch the pain off, on the brain thing? Wouldn’t want to waste electricity, what with the climate crisis and all.”

Serena frowned. “I can’t remember.” she replied.  “But don’t worry about it – really, it takes almost no electricity to stimulate a pain receptor. That electric field you saw making the tank glow uses less power than a low energy lightbulb.”

“Oh, OK then” Alice replied. “As long as it’s as little as that, it doesn’t matter at all, does it?  Now: what was the other thing you wanted to show me?”

…and finally, although this blog does not feature identifiable images of Serena and Alice, respecting as I do the ladies’ privacy (and their capacity to inflict terrifying levels of violence and pain on those who annoy them), I am finally responding to the numerous requests for a picture of our two heroines, naked in bed together, below. Enjoy – but not too much, if you know what’s good for you.

More Serena and Alice here (and use the links within those to earlier ones as they’re not all categorised properly). I’m sorry if the justification in these stories seems a bit odd. I don’t mean the justification for all the torture and murder – that’s inherent in the character development – I mean the typesetting. These are old so they were imported using a tool from the old Blogger blog and the line justification is a mess.

Incidentally, as I may have mentioned before, some years after starting this series, by remarkable coincidence (unless it’s that synchronicity thing the Police sang about), my two consecutive ‘serious, long-term’ dommes were the magnificent Serena and the delightful Alice. They were even statuesque brunette and petite blonde, respectively. Just goes to show, eh? Unless it doesn’t, I suppose.

Celestial bodies

Good thing she brought a sub. They’re used to them on fashion shoots, of course: no self-respecting model would be seen without an obedient puppy boy on a leash or a sissy maid at a respectful three paces behind, these days.
She prides herself on being the perfect hostess: it’s all about making sure someone makes the effort to prepare everything properly before the guests arrive, apparently.
Humiliation play can be a tricky thing. I once met up with a domme in cafe for public humiliation play and soon found myself being insulted, belittled and eventually slapped by this elegant, blonde lady in high heels and furs. Perfect – until I discovered I’d got the wrong cafe entirely and the domme I’d booked had been waiting impatiently in the one around the corner. Most embarassing.

The lovely Princess Kali, there, trying not to engage in humiliation play.

If all that fails, I understand there’s a briar patch they can throw you into.
I hope someone tells the patient that someone with the right skills and training is looking after his wife. Otherwise he might be feeling anxious for her.
Or those she has set for you.

An Angel before you to keep you in the way

Definitely an angel. Angels in the bible did a lot of smiting, too.
Many mistress-slave agreements consist almost entirely of penalty clauses, actually.
It was actually Margot Robbie’s performance in this movie – in which she pushes a steel rod through this chap’s eye in the end of this scene, amusingly enough – which got her the gig in Barbie. But they changed the Barbie screenplay, retaining the ‘women’s world’ theme but giving it more ‘mainstream acceptability’ by removing the torture scenes and most references to castration. And they wonder why people say cinema’s lost its magic.
That seems a bit dismissive. My SO always lets me plead for a while.
I can take the beatings but sarcasm is a hard limit for me.
How excited, exactly?

Contemptresses

It’s a very genuine relationship the two of you have; nothing faked here.
Perhaps you could reassure her by explaining it’s your first time being stomped to death, too.
Sounds like she’s doing all the work in this relationship; I hope you are ordered to express your gratitude some time.
If all else fails there’s a surgical solution but that’s only recommended in extreme cases or if a woman requests it.
She’s perfect so she’s determined that your servitude to her should be, too.
I’m sure they’ll make room for her; they’re nice like that.

Unrelated, there is a random bit of vanilla vaguely referencing femdom here. https://www.smbc-comics.com/comic/2007-07-18 I read the caption and thought… yeah, but what was the one thing?

Wait until she gets home

And if, when she does, she doesn’t come to open the cage, you can wait until she goes out again, too, and then start the whole thing all over again. It helps pass the time.

The occasional spanking can form part of a healthy and mutually-respectful relationship… as well as the sorts of relationships celebrated on this blog too, obviousy.
If it’s any consolation, she is actually wearing silk underwear.
She’s determined to make fetch happen.
It was this or the kennels and that can just be more trouble than it’s worth. All that fuss about how they generally only take dogs and cats… speciesism, that’s what it is.
She needs to develop techniques to relax, maybe take some of the tension away, especially if she’s going to be watching a lot of castrations. I expect going to lie down in the nurse’s room will help.
Apparently, the priest is planning to preach a sermon on practising thankfulness in marriage, which seems very apposite.

Spare the rod and spoil the marriage

Don’t worry: these ladies won’t.

Some wives are actually quite liberal in extending ‘permission to ask’ – one of my SO’s friends lets her boys beg whenever they like, says she rather enjoys it.
Especially when you’re wearing the pink one.
Of course, if you don’t enjoy it, you can always just wait until she orders you to argue or complain, then you can tell her all about how you feel.
For non-British readers; if a domme ever accuses you of ‘taking the piss’, she’s not referring to your impressive swallowing technique during toilet-play, she’s probably quite cross with you (‘pissed-off’ even).
If she holds her hand in the right place, they won’t see the leash, either.
One of my SO’s former girlfriends was an ears, nose and throat specialist. It was quite a relief when I discovered she specialised in removing tonsils, not ‘tonsils’.

… and as an extra, here’s a sweet little femdom video if you like that sort of thing.

Now, please, darling

She’s right, of course.
Sometimes Lisa quite likes dealing with the easier cases who break almost immediately, for a change: it gives her a chance to explore some techniques without any pressure. Plus, she enjoys the terrified pleading and screaming.
They’re thinking of making it a compulsory module, so most nurses will have had at least some experience of castrating males. Although they never had any lack of volunteers when it was optional.
Oh, I don’t know. One of my SO’s boyfriends gave me a contempt fuck one day and it was quite memorable.
Or breathe in to hang around abit longer – up to you. She’d rather get on with it, but just this once I think she might let you choose.
It’s obviously been bothering her a lot, poor thing.

Foolish things

As often as she likes, obviously. Which is quite often.
Perhaps her mistress will come to see the advantages in having a male around. Maybe get one herself; I understand they’re very cheap to keep, they needn’t be irritating if they are permanently gagged and after all, she’s got a sub to make sure the nasty thing washes itself frequently.
It’s silly to complain about the taste: I mean, it’s not her fault the company that produces the shaving foam makes it so unpleasant, is it? Write them a letter if you’re so upset about it: I’m sure she’d buy you a stamp.
How could anyone be frightened of a sweet, harmless little creature like her?
It was a blonde joke, wasn’t it? ‘How many blonde nurses does it take to change an obnoxious man’s sexist attitudes’… was that it?
Seems a bit easier than the game of “Guess what implement’s next” that my SO likes to play with me strapped down over the whipping bench. I’m rubbish at it: I don’t think I’ve been right once in what must be over 20 tries, even though she gives me a choice between only two each time. No matter what I say, it’s always the other one. That’s odds of 2^20 against… over a million to one! Pretty unlucky… but as she likes to say, meeting her was such a lucky thing for me, I don’t deserve any more luck ever again, and of course I can’t argue with logic like that.
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