Good harmful fun

 …and nothing wrong with that.


They take pain management very seriously.




It’s best to double-check these things.  I’ve been on at least two dates which ended up in an argument relating to a confusion between inches and centimetres – and on one of them my so-called ‘date’ actually beat me up.


Obviously, we should be trying to encourage more women to go into STEM subjects.  Because technical progress and science are important – so best not left to morons.



That’s a relief.  I was worried.





It just shows I’m a red-hot lurrve machine, surely?



My sweet lady

…. by George Harrison.  Pirate version, obviously. *   Extra bonus post today!  Me hearties!






It’s odd – when she takes the elderly gentlemen’s blood pressure and heart rate, the readings always come out higher than when one of the male nurses take them.  They use the same equipment so it can’t be anything to do with that… it’s just one of those little mysteries.



It’s a good thing she was there to step in.  Normally, when she’s off sick, L just leaves them a message to find a pair of sneakers and sort themselves out.



If we’re talking about bad influences, personally I happen to think that Karen is a bad influence on her… but no one listens to me.**


Others just think it’s rather fun… kind of a conversation piece.

Sometimes love needs a helping hand.










* Today being ‘International talk like a pirate day‘!  I celebrated this day once before by putting up an entire post of captioned femdom images of lovelies talking like pirates, with a lot of emphasis on being boarded through yer rear porthole, matey etc.  Forgetting of course that individual images get copied, tumblred, shared and generally distributed around the Internet without context.  An Internet that, not unreasonably, reacted by declaring these the worst captioned femdom images ever created.  So I won’t be doing that again… there’s ‘good’ humiliation and then there’s the other kind.  So, just the usual perfectly normal captions today.  Yo ho ho!

** I write captions all the time and select images from my vast archive*** when I put up a post.  Consequently, many of these images were captioned years ago.  For some reason, I frequently settled on ‘Karen’ as the name of an off-screen more vicious friend of whichever divine goddess is speaking.  Anyway, that was before Karen became ‘Karen’ OK?  Let’s hope that particular fad passes and let’s hope most fervently that it never, ever also catches ‘Janice’ in its memetic claws.****

*** No, really.  I have about 1600 unpublished ones right now.  That’s three years’ supply.   Ha!  They said he was running out of captioned images; they said he was running out of ideas…  They were half right.

****Or ‘Raoul’. 




Painfully accurate

Thank goodness for that. Generally, this blog disapproves of the use of painkillers on men – just seems wrong and counterproductive, somehow – but this could be an exception.




It’s for her book club. They’re meeting here this week, I think – you still OK to serve the snacks?



Just goes to show it’s not all about the money.



Oooh… romantic evening ahead!



Angghwagh Mughwough!



A magical realm

Don’t worry: it’s not just spiders.  She can change into lots of things.  And she can change other people into other things too.  So, yeah: never dull.

 

 

 

Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll change you back. After all, it’s not going to be much fun for her having a boyfriend only eight inches high, is it?  Whatever could the two of you do together?

 

 

 

The fairy godmother is deep in the palace dungeons.  She’s treated reasonably well but for some reason the sisters insisted that she be fed nothing but pumpkin – which she hates.  Perhaps one day she’ll be granted an opportuity to explain that to them and they’ll relent.




She can and she has.  More times than she’d care to admit, actually.


 

 

 

Perhaps he can charm her – she loves watching men writhe and scream and I’m sure he’ll be doing plenty of that.


We do what we must

 …because we can.

Part 2 in the exciting Portal ripoff featuring Serena and Alice.  Read the first part here!  Read the ladies’ previous adventures here!  But don’t blame me if they haunt your nightmares, OK?

Warning: contains scenes of torture, mutilation, coprophagia, death and almost all the possible permutations of those things.  Or to put it bluntly: contains Serena and Alice.  If you don’t like reading such unpleasant tales, you’re probably a normal, well-adjusted ethical human being. And we don’t really cater for those around here.

 

 

Of course, this isn’t a picture of Serena and Alice, it’s just something I found on the Internet. But it looks remarkably like them, don’t you think?

 

Some hours later, a sparkling flash around the oval rim of
the orange portal on Serena’s wall, along with the happy laugh that so often
betokened Alice’s arrival, announced the ladies’ return.  The seven males within earshot – some engaged
in tasks, others simply secured or stored awaiting future use – flinched
visibly, their eyes cast down to the floor. Those two still free to use their
mouths whispered silently as if in prayer. 
Serena was nearby and that was never good news.  Admittedly, Alice was with her which
sometimes led to their Mistress being distracted by thoughts and pleasures
unrelated to inflicting agony on males, but those thoughts were never far away
and in any case, Alice’s presence often inspired still greater creative
cruelties in Serena’s dark and savage soul.

To be fair, Alice herself was also capable of immense
cruelty but in a more playful, carefree manner. 
Where Serena tortured hungrily, methodically, Alice simply dabbled:
turning dials, attaching weights or applying probes as if for the first time,
laughing in startled pleasure at the screams and desperate pleas that resulted,
as if it was her first experience of having a man strapped into whatever device
she was fiddling with.  Her childish
enthusiasm was oddly effective: many men went to their deaths experiencing
agonising pain at her delicate finger tips, yet still their last thoughts as
the red tide of pain finally overcame their senses, was often what a sweet
little thing she seemed to be.  Even
those who had seen the horrific results of her playful exuberance at close hand
managed to find her adorable, while also of course utterly terrifying.

This was the Alice who had finally allowed herself to be led
giggling from her bedroom at home, through a pair of portals connected by
dimensionless space, back to Serena’s underground laboratory.  For, dear reader, if you have neglected to
click back on the link above to read the first part of this tale (and why not
haven’t you?), you should know that Serena’s latest passion is portals:
teleportation gates, each blue and orange pair linked inseparably, no matter
how far the distance between them, much like Alice and Serena themselves who
loved one another deeply, united by a bond far stronger than merely sexual
desire for one another and for the suffering of men, although that was the root
from which their romance had grown. 

Portals can be small: 
small enough for a man’s genitals to poke through (as we saw in Part 1),
leaving those unpleasant organs In Serena’s hands to do with as she wished,
even though the male physically still attached to them was miles away (and
also, of course, in Serena’s hands, even if not physically, to do with as she
wished). They can also be large enough to travel through.  That was a slightly alarming concept to
Serena, whose life’s work and favourite leisure activities all depended on
males being unable to escape from the places she confined them, so she had
taken precautionary measures, including a ‘dead-switch’ that she could flick to
deactivate all portals under her control. Any male attempting escape through
one when she did so would find himself merely dashing himself against the
concrete walls of his cell. Of course, the dead-switch would also remove the
connection between the various sets of genitalia and the remote males who
wrongly considered those genitals ‘theirs’, resulting in instantaneous
castration.   

You might guess that Serena
would be unbothered by this thought but there, dear reader, you misjudge her,
as Serena regarded any castration that was ‘instantaneous’ as being a waste, as
well as somewhat unartistic. 
Nonetheless, if she recoiled at the thought of any male’s castration
being quick and near-painless, still more did she hate the thought of any of
them escaping her control and so avoiding the retribution they so richly
deserved for whatever wrongs they might have committed against women (she
rarely bothered to try to learn specifics these days, as in her experience all
men had), so the dead-switch never left her belt.

At the sight of the cabinet full of living male junk (an
appropriate name, Serena had always thought), Alice cooed with pleasure again,
especially at the sight of the dark purple flesh that had once been “Peter the
lawyer’s” pride and joy.  She flicked at
the bruised flesh hard with a finger, giggling delightedly at the thought of
how sensitive to pain it must be, after its earlier treatment.  She pinched hard, digging her nails in and
drawing blood. “Of course, if you’d rather we went back to my bedroom, it’s only
a few steps away’ she began slyly, but Serena shook her head.  “I’ve something else I want to show you” she
smiled, taking her wrist and leading her to a table in the corner of the room,
leaving Peter the lawyer’s bits to fall to the ground (much like Peter the
lawyer himself, who was presently writhing in agony on the floor of his
well-appointed office near St Pauls, desperately trying not to alert any of his
co-workers to his condition, as he knew full well that it was only the income
from his high-paying job, transferred each month into Serena’s account, that
explained why the 98% of his body that was not his genitalia was able to move,
free of burn marks and largely intact).

“Take your panties off” Serena instructed her lovely blonde
companion.

“Well, I wish you’d make your mind up” grumbled Alice.  “I mean, I’ve only just suggested that we go
back to the bedroom but you – “

Her friend shushed her. 
“And put this pair on” she said.

 

Alice gets ready to take part in an experiment exploring the physics of trans-dimensional space.

 

She was holding a pair of delicate cream silk panties from
one finger.  Looking closely, Alice could
see they seemed to have a reinforced gusset, as might be the case in a pair adapted
to take a thin sanitary towel.  Both
ladies were familiar with such garments, of course, both for their own use and
(in a rather coarser format) because the design was ideally suited to dealing
neatly with the mild bleeding and occasional oozing that often followed a
castration, particularly if carried out with blunt cutting instruments, or even
blunt instruments that did not cut at all.  
However, this pair was different, because nestled in the soft material
that would be going between Alice’s legs was a small dull oval, which Alice now
recognised as an inactive portal.

“Where’s the other end?” she asked, but Serena merely smiled
and dialled up a code on her phone.

The miniature portal flashed orange then, almost
immediately, a tongue appeared.  It took
up about half the area of the oval, the other half affording a glimpse into a
dark, living space behind.  Alice could
feel breath, as the tongue quested around for anything it should work on, and
then subsided, part drawing back. 
Clearly, the other portal was just inside some male’s mouth.

Alice grabbed the panties and pulled them on,
enthusiastically.  Then she pulled them
up tight, brushed her skirt down smooth and stood there, beaming up into her
lover’s eyes.

“So what do we do?  Do
we need to give him a signal to – ooh!” 
She giggled.

“I think he got the – ooh! 
Oh that’s very nice.  He’s very
well-trained, this one, isn’t he? 
Because, I – oh!  Oh yes, this is…
this is…”

Serena broke into a broad smile, overjoyed to see her having
such a good time.  She put her arms
around her waist and hugged her tightly to her own body.

“You see, it’s just you and me here.” she murmured.  “We can have a perfect cuddle, undisturbed by
any unsightly males, while still enjoying the benefit of one of the few things
they can do to please a women.”  And she
crushed Alice’s lips beneath her own.

The two stayed locked in the embrace for a while.  When they drew back to breathe, Alice gasped
“Hey – I know!  How about if you wear one
too!”

Serena smiled and kissed her innocent companion on the nose.
“Already wearing one” she confided.  “I
put it on when we got dressed and activated it at the same time as yours.  I just don’t make… Alice noises when I’m
being served that’s all.”

“I don’t make – “ Alice began crossly, but proceeded to
betray her own stifled protestations, by gasping desperately.

Serena just chuckled and kissed her again and for a while
the two simply writhed in an embrace, the only sound being the ever louder
urgent gasps and cries as Alice reached her fifth orgasm of the day (Serena
herself was generally much quieter and in any event, the sounds of her own
climax were usually hard to discern above the loud screams or the grinding,
drilling and sizzling noises that often accompanied them).

 

No, none of these people are Serena or Alice either.  It’s a quiz!  Five lovely ladies above, all looking quite happy but only two of them are wearing Serena’s patented portal panties.  Can you pick the right two?  To make it easier, both ladies activated their portals about ten minutes before their pictures were taken so have been enjoying the attentions of some of Serena’s most skillful ’employees’ for a while. 

 

Eventually Alice flopped in Serena’s arms, smiling up at her
goofily.  “That was… oooh, that was
lovely!” she sighed contentedly. Then she frowned “Oops!  Need the little girls’ room – like I always
do, afterwards.” And she made to pull the panties down, physics-defying insert
and all.  But Serena just reached out to
stop her, shaking her head slowly.

Alice looked confused (it is a tradition in Serena and Alice
stories that Alice has to be far behind the curve and look sweetly confused at
least once).  Then realisation dawned (well
done, Alice, we knew you’d get there).

“Oh” she said.

“You mean, I can just…?”

Serena nodded.  “Right
here. Go ahead.”

The two ladies stood in silence for a moment, gazing at each
other.  Alice looked excited at first, then
her eyes took on an increasingly far-away look. 
Eventually she burst out giggling. 
“Look: I can’t do it if you’re watching!

Serena sighed and turned around.  “Better?” she asked.

“Or if you talk.” replied Alice, primly.  There was silence for a while.

“Oh, here we go” Alice remarked, after what seemed an age to
Serena. “Oh yes.  Oh this is nice.  Mm… I needed that, I really did.  Oh.”

Then she burst out in surprised laughter. “Oh – he’s licking
me clean!  What a well-trained boy!”

“One of my best” Serena nodded.  “He was already quite good when I recruited him and he was a volunteer too – fell in love with me, actually.  Those are often easier to train than abductees.  Plus, he has a low pain threshold which helps. One of the lowest I’ve ever encountered, actually”.  She smiled to herself, as if recalling a happy memory.

“Where is this one, then” Alice asked with interest. “Whose
mouth did I just pee in?  Government
Minister sitting quietly in his office? 
Respectable family man in his ‘den’ at home?  Ooh – or a priest or bishop or something,
pretending to pray by himself?  I’d love
to piss in the mouth of a bishop – don’t know why, but I’ve always wanted to.  They’re so… pompous.”

“Not a bishop” laughed Serena, making a mental note because
Alice’s birthday was just a few weeks away and she’d been unable to think of a
special treat for her.  “In fact, this
one’s strictly in-house. Very strictly, actually – come and see.”

She led Alice down a flight of steps into one of the many
dark sublevels below the laboratory.  She
flicked a light switch to reveal an empty room, with bare concrete walls.  The wall facing them was mottled in various –
but not as many as fifty – shades of grey.

“Oh, I recognise this place.” Alice said, after a while.
“You used to keep a lot of boys here. It was cages all over, you must have had
at least fifteen in here.  But the room
seems… smaller. Funny, because normally when you take the stuff out of a room
it looks bigger.”

“I still store males here.” Serena replied.  “More than ever, actually.  I think there’s now” – she quickly checked
her phone – “twenty-two.”

“But where?” wailed the reliably slow Alice.

“In the walls” smiled Serena.  “Look, I’ll show you.”

She pulled out an ominous, coffin-shaped box made of wood.
Inside were some rough cardboard shapes, of the sort that oddly-shaped packages
are often wrapped in for shipping.  She
picked one up: it looked like the crudest possible face-mask.

Alice looked adorably puzzled, once again.  “But where are the boys?”

“The male goes in the box” Serena explained.  “I put these things on him – like a cardboard
suit of armour, you see?  That’s to give
him just a little bit of wiggle room when I pour the concrete.  The cardboard soon decays so it’s just him in
the concrete space after that. It’s good to have a bit of an air pocket, so I
don’t lose them all if there’s a power outage, or something.  Plus, they seem to die very quickly if you
just pour wet concrete on them.  This
way, they can stay alive in their little male-shaped bubble inside the concrete
forever, as far as I can see. Haven’t lost one yet – not by accident, anyway.”

(Fear not reader: Alice is supposed to be delightfully slow
on the uptake but not an utter moron. 
She is not about to ask how the males can breathe or eat and drink
entombed in concrete.  Given the context
of the story, even Alice has worked that out. 
If there are any readers who haven’t, I suggest you try simpler femdom
sites that are more suited to your mental capacities, such as those with pictures of models with their
tits out over impractical latex garments, pretending to be dominatrices by
gritting their teeth at the camera and vaguely waving bullwhips.*)

“So all the stuff goes in and out…” Alice said wonderingly…

“Precisely” Serena beamed. 
“Or round and round, for that matter. 
Come and see.”

This lucky lad is just about to be fitted out with portals and cardboard protectors, before being boxed and placed in a hole in the wall just to the left of this picture. Then the concrete will be poured.  He is actually looking towards the wall where his brother has been placed, while his father is about six inches inside the concrete just behind his feet.  Serena managed to capture the full set, on a family fishing trip that went wrong (for them – for Serena it went quite well, as – obviously – it also did for the fish).  Serena disapproves of fishing for sport, considering it cruel.

 

She led Alice back upstairs, down a corridor and threw open
some double doors to reveal a complicated machine.  Clear plastic pipes snaked around in convoluted
fashion, all connected up to a triple row of shimmering orange portals, each of
similar size to the ones sewn into the ladies’ adapted panties.  On the far right, a large plastic tank
labelled ‘food’ contained a greasy greeny-brown mush.  As Alice watched, a pipe suddenly started gushing
a lumpy reddish broth that raised the level of the mixture in the tank by about
two inches and turned it appreciably darker.

“Comes from various waste disposal points in the lab” Serena
explained.  “Obviously, there’s a
standard food waste shredder to make sure that nothing goes in that’s too wide
for the portals or might clog them up.  We
flush all the recipents through with high pressure water once a week or so, just to make
sure.”

“What do you feed them?” Alice asked.

“Oh, it’s mostly food waste.” Serena replied
dismissively.  “I try not to let non-food
ordinary household waste in too much – at least 75% of what’s in there is what
might be considered edible, at a pinch, in normal circumstances.  It seems to keep them alive, anyway.”

“And the outflow pipes…?” Alice asked, with a keen interest.

“Don’t always outflow straight away, obviously.” Serena nodded.  “They can loop back so the same male eats or
drinks his own excreta, or one another’s of course.  It’s easy enough to set up quite complicated
routes and loops, actually.  If you time
it right, the same food can pass through as many males as you like. One day I’m
going to try putting a radioactive tag in the food to see how many
of them I can get it through before flushing it away.”

“Oh: we tried that before, didn’t we?” Alice said enthusiastically. “You remember: when you were teaching me about the science of radioactivity!  You put a boy in a big metal box and dropped this special stuff in, and all his hair fell out!  It was funny.”

“Yes, but that was plutonium.**” began Serena “I’m talking about trace elements of – “

“And he said ‘Oh my skin feels itchy’ and then it turned black and started peeling off!” giggled Alice, remembering the salient parts of her science lesson.  “He looked so surprised!”

Serena smiled, indulgently.  “Anyway”, she said “it’ll be fun to see how many times I can get the same piece of food to pass through them all.    Of course, I could just close the loop and
they’ll just eat each other’s shit for ever.”

“Can we try?” Alice asked eagerly.

Serena looked serious. “No, that would kill them, so we can’t do that. Not yet.  I don’t know how long it would take or what specifically they’d die
of.  I’d keep the food going, so they
wouldn’t starve but I suppose in some way they’d just clog up or burst under the
pressure.  So… it’s going to be the grand
finale to this little experiment, but I’m not ready yet – lots more I want to
try first.”

Seeing the look of disappointment on her friend’s face, she added “Don’t worry.  I’ll let you know when I’m ready to do it.  Maybe over Christmas, OK?”

Alice cheered up, but was then struck by a rather horrible thought.  “So the mouth that just licked me out has
been…”

Again, the response was a shaking head.  “There’s a little warning that pops up if I’m
about to spray shit into the mouth of one of the ones I’ve flagged for oral
service.  So I don’t do that – not hygienic.
In fact, that reminds me…”

She checked her phone, frowning, then selected a few
options.

“OS23B?” she said, in a quiet speaking voice. “Oral service
slave formally known as Lee Taylor?  You’ve
been quite slack using your tongue lately, so now you’re going to taste
something different.  You have a couple
of seconds to say thank you Mistress, before your mouth fills with shit.”

A faint sound came from one of the tube-covered portals,
before being cut off by a squelching, gurgling sound.

“All of you other oral service slaves?  I hope you’re paying attention.” she added.

“They can hear us?” Alice asked.

“Oh yes” Serena replied. 
“Sorry, I suppose I should have told you. 
There’s a mic here – I sometimes like to tell them what’s about to
happen.  Or just talk to them about
stuff.  It must be very isolating, being entombed
in concrete, so I think it’s probably something they look forward to.”

“So… they heard our conversation just now?  They know they’re all destined to die choking on each other’s
shit when you’ve finished playing with them?” Alice asked.

“When I’ve finished conducting my scientific experiments
Serena corrected.  “Yes.”

“Well: they do
now, anyway.” she added.

“That must be quite demotivating” Alice remarked.

“Plenty of motivational devices here” Serena laughed and she
showed her friend the controls for the electric shock treatments.  Individual males could be shocked in various
places and at various intensities, so Alice had fun at first pressing individual buttons, while trying to guess
above which name a little light would go on indicating that electricity was
being applied.  Most also screamed (those that didn’t were probably in the process of being fed, or at least receiving some kind of solid matter through their feeding tubes). The screams
could only be heard faintly, as of course they emerged inside the plastic feeding tubes. Alice thought the effect was rather lovely – soothing, like church bells heard in the distance would be to someone without Alice’s fanatical sadism (or indeed to many people with it: it is an offensive caricature to believe that people like Alice and Serena who so love torturing, maiming or murdering cannot also apreciate the gentler pleasures in life).  

 Then Serena showed
her how to set up multiple and timed shock patterns, and how to run pre-programmed
sequences and Alice stood in wonder before the displays of flashing lights and
accompanying muffled screams.

“So pretty” she smiled. 
“I could watch all day.”

“Oh, but there’s more I want to show you” Serena smiled.  “Things you can do with portal-fitted males,
here on the outside.”

“The lucky ones” nodded Alice, only half-listening to her
friend as she continued to enjoy the son-et-lumi
ère show.

“Not really” Serena replied.

This attracted Alice’s interest.  “Worse than being entombed in concrete being
tortured with electric shocks – and nothing to look forward to but a slow death from being force-fed shit?” she asked, disbelievingly.

“Well, OK.” Serena conceded. 
“Not strictly worse, necessarily.  But just as bad.  Come and see.”

And she led Alice away towards part 3.  At the door, Alice cast one last admiring
look back at the lights flashing so prettily on the board and then the ladies
were gone, and the muffled (but frantic and urgent) screams had no one but the empty
room for audience. 


As I’ve said, I’m afraid I don’t have any actual photographs of Serena or Alice.  However, I’m told by people who have met Serena and survived that this picture is extraordinarily similar to how they remember her, when they awake in the cold sweat of terror in the middle of the night.


It took a few years but Part 3 is finally here… 


* Actually, we feature those images here sometimes too.  But ironically, you know? 

** You might think Serena having access to Plutonium is a terrifying idea.  But actually, when you think about it, it’s only marginally more terrifying than Serena not having access to Plutonium.  It’s just one more thing, is all I’m saying.  If you want to read more about Alice’s science lessons read Love among the test tubes.  It is the Serena and Alice story: so much so, that I didn’t write another for years afterwards, because it all seemed to have been said.

Scream queens

 
I quite often get scared in session, but I wouldn’t call any of that a ‘phobia’, as such.  Phobias are irrational fears.
 
 

 

Probably best if they never find out. They’re so sweet and innocent, long may they stay that way.
 
 
 
People like her contribute to the unfair stereotyping of the BDSM community.  You should say something – when you’ve got your breath back, obviously.
 
 
 
 
 
I don’t think it bothers her.
 
 
French capital punishment scenarios require some quite specialised equipment (although easy enough for any domme with slaves with carpentry skills).  Anyone wanting to try out American cap-pun play is going to need something to step up the voltage. Ordinary electricity’s not quite enough to kill, even in Europe.  I mean, it works eventually, but if the client’s only paid for a couple of hours, the domme’s at risk of the scenario not working out.

Now you’re thinking with portals

A Serena and Alice story


Ages since I wrote a story about these two lovely ladies.  Serena is smart as a whip but hurts a lot more.  Alice is sweet and playful and kind… OK, not always particularly kind, to be honest.  But definitely playful.  Anyway, they make a lovely couple. 

Fans of sweet and affectionate lesbian relationships, especially those spiced up with a delicious sprinkling of brutal torture of males, might enjoy the following and even find themselves drawn to check out a few more, here.

Readers of a nervous disposition, in contrast, should instead contact Serena in person.  She’d love to get to know you better.

Finally, anyone who is completely cool with castration, torture and murder for sexual kicks but has no idea what the whole ‘portal’ thing is about should watch this.  I believe that GladOS is actually based on Serena, although obviously the game designers made her a much nicer person, for a mainstream audience.

What adventures await on the other side of this mysterious orange portal?  Step through and find out.



Now you’re thinking with portals


“Whee!” Alice laughed delightedly as she tumbled through the
orange-rimmed oval into the waiting arms of her beloved Serena.  The two kissed passionately several times.

“That was my first time!” Alice gasped.  “It’s weird, isn’t it?  One minute I was there, the next I’m here…
with you.” And she smiled, shyly.

“Faster than light” Serena nodded.

Alice’s pretty brow furrowed in puzzlement, as it
occasionally does when the dialogue requires some explication.

“But – I thought faster-than-light travel wasn’t possible?  I thought scientists had proven that.”

“Male scientists” replied Serena.

“Oh I see” Alice replied. 
“Yes, that would explain it.  My husband David has all sorts of funny ideas about speed and time. Just the other day I
told him I needed the kitchen cleaned, the laundry done and dinner cooked all
by 7 o’clock and he said it wasn’t possible! 
I had to explain to him for almost twenty minutes that I wanted it
done.”   

“And did he manage it all?” Serena smiled.

“Oh yes” Alice replied. 
“In fact, he got it all done with five minutes to spare, even after I’d
taken that extra time explaining.  In fact, he
was begging to be allowed to get on with it less than halfway through my explanation.  He worked very hard after that – he’s a good
boy, really.”

“But he lied to you – when he said it couldn’t be done?”
Serena prompted.

Alice frowned again.  “Yes,
I suppose he did, didn’t he… the lying little toad!  I’ll have to talk to him about that.”

Serena felt a warm glow of satisfaction.  Although she felt no jealously towards David, she
always liked to hear about him suffering. 
As she did with all men, but David’s relationship with Alice gave her a
special interest in his welfare, one she hoped would one day lead to his taking
on a new role: as one of her experimental subjects*.  In the meantime, though, she enjoyed finding fault
with him from a distance.  For his part,
David had learnt to dread conversations with his beloved wife that began with “I
was talking to Serena, and…”

“Anyway, obviously they got the maths wrong” Serena began.

“David does a lot of that, too” nodded Alice. “When we first
got together, he used to use maths to try to get out of buying things for
me.  Things I needed.”  She looked upset again.

“And now we have these amazing portals everywhere” Serena
went on quickly, suddenly worried that her lover might have such a powerful
urge to go and ‘explain’ things to David that she might step back home through
the portal. “It’s astonishing how many uses there are for them.”

Alice took her hand and smiled up at her.  “Maybe.  But I don’t think I’m ever going to need another one, now I’ve got the link between my bedroom and here.”

The two embraced again, at length. 

Serena and Alice.  I believe this might not actually a picture of the two ladies, but David confirmed to me that this is very much how he sees them.  He told me that the one on the left is his beloved Alice and when I asked about the one on the right, he curled into a little ball and started gibbering about finding a happy place, so I guess that must be Serena.


“I mean, my bedroom’s just a few steps away…” Alice murmured,
through her smooshed lips.

“And I’d love to step through with you” smiled Serena. “But
I want to show you a few things first.  I’ve
been thinking with portals!”

“Am I about to have a science lesson?” giggled Alice. Although
not inclined towards intellectual pursuits, she had a keen curiosity about applied
science, as long as it was being applied to males as painfully as possible –
which, fortuitously, happened to be Serena’s main research interest too.

“What have you been doing with them… sending men to
unpleasant places?”

“Oh, portals aren’t just transportation devices.” Serena
replied.  “There are so many uses: they’re
going to transform the world.  You can
break the laws of thermodynamics with a well-positioned pair of portals, so you
can have unlimited free energy, for example. 
Imagine how that could liberate the world from toil and drudgery.”

Down the corridor, a naked male on hands and knees who had
been scrubbing the floorboards with a small brush looked up.  Unluckily, he happened to meet Serena’s gaze
and instantly dropped his head down again, applying himself still more
vigorously to the task. A light sheen of sweat appeared, as he trembled in
fear.

“Yes, well, I mean that toil and drudgery will become
optional, anyway” Serena added, staring coolly at the labouring man. “Only
available to a lucky few.”

“Who had better hope for a lifetime of toil and
drudgery.” she continued, in a quiet voice that seemed nonetheless to carry
effortlessly over to the male’s location. 
“Because there are plenty of alternatives and believe me, they are all so much
worse.”

She watched for a moment more, observing the brush which
itself seemed close to breaking the lightspeed barrier, so quickly was it
flashing back and forth.  A few tears
splashed down and were vigorously rubbed into the wooden boards.  Serena didn’t mind that.  In fact she thought it
provided a pleasant and delicate patina to a wooden surface.  When she’d had a new wooden floor put into
her bedroom, she had worked most of the morning to acquire a bucket brimming
full of male tears, to allow the whole surface to be thoroughly doused with
this most enriching substance.

Serena took out a leather-covered box, of the sort an
expensive ring would come in.  Which is
exactly what it had been, when originally purchased to present Serena with one of
the eleven engagement rings she had received in her life.  None of the men in question had ever actually become her husband, of course, but nine had succeeded in their ambition to
spend the rest of their lives with her, and the surviving two were still
working on it, deep in the cellars beneath her mansion house.

She opened it, to show Alice the ovals glowing orange and
blue against the black velvet cushioning, one in the base and one in the lid of the unclasped box.

“But what’s the point when they’re so small?” Alice asked,
supremely oblivious of the almost intolerable temptation she was placing on the author to make an obvious and very bad joke. 

“I’ll show you” smiled Serena, and she led her lover by the
hand, to a well-furnished room, one side of which was occupied by a large
glass-fronted cupboard that could serve well as a trophy cabinet.  Inside were the trophies: row after row of
male genitalia, most of them with penises encased in a chastity device, some
with permanent-looking piercings apparently achieving the same end.  Some were bruised or showed other signs of violent
treatment; all had a gentle glow of orange or blue behind them, showing the
presence of science’s latest triumph.

Serena opened the door and reached in, for a large, pallid
and relatively undamaged example hanging under a sign reading “Peter the lawyer”.



Here’s
a picture of Peter the lawyer, in case you were wondering what he looks
like.  This photo was taken the day he met Serena, I believe, which
explains why he is still looking so calm and unbruised.  What’s that? 
You don’t want to see pictures of Peter, you want pictures of the
ladies?  Well, that’s typical of the dismissive attitude to males in
femdom porn, frankly.  He’s central to the story too, you know.  He’s
the canvas on which the work of art will be created, after all.

She flicked open the chastity tube, which had been secured
but not locked, removed it and handed the pallid pile of flesh to her
companion.

After at first simply goggling at it lying helplessly in her
hands, Alice turned it over in wonder. 
She had held men’s genitals in her hands before, of course.  Sometimes living and attached to men,
sometimes detached and floppy – more often the latter, since she had become
Serena’s lover.  But never had she held a
set of genitals that were both separated from their owner yet also, somehow,
still attached.  For around the base of the
penis and balls, where the arrangement would normally fuse seamlessly with the rest
of a man’s body, glowed the orange light of a miniature portal some two inches
in diameter, just like the ones Serena had shown her before.

Alice had little doubt that, wherever Peter the lawyer happened
to be, there was a blue glowing ring between his legs, of just the same size as
this one.  When she turned the genitals
over to look closely into the ring, she could see how it cut across the
still-living tissue.  Blood vessels pulsed
gently, showing that vital fluid was circulating still in the penis that,
although still very much attached to its owner’s body, was also in the extraordinarily perilous position of being in Serena’s trophy cabinet and indeed, in Alice’s
hands.  For Serena, as a lesbian, genital
torture was merely another way to inflict pain, but Alice – to her lover’s mild
disapproval – was bisexual and her continuing heterosexual leanings provided
her with a frisson of interest in a shapely cock. Of course, the end result of
the two ladies’ interest in male genitalia was much the same, as Alice’s
sexuality was firmly oriented towards the sadistic end of the spectrum.  But holding a living cock for her still provided
some of the same thrill she had first experienced at school when she had felt a
boy becoming hard in his trousers as he pressed against her in the school diner
queue.  On that occasion, the boy in
question had merely been expelled when she reported him, but the pleasure of
punishing an errant penis had remained with her.

Soon there was no need to observe cross-sectioned vessels pulsing
in order to deduce that blood was flowing into the spongy tissues of the penis,
as Peter the lawyer, his penis liberated from the tight embrace of his steel
tube, was responding naturally to the soft touch of Alice’s hands.  It was unconscious, simply an automatic
sexual response – as was Alice’s desire to inflict unspeakable pain on him, when she saw
what was happening.

“He’s being naughty” she remarked, handing the growing item
back to Serena.  Serena smiled and grasped
the end of the penis, firmly tweaking the end three times to the right.  “That’s a signal” she explained.  “In case he’s out in public: it’s to tell him
to go somewhere private.  Let’s give him sixty
seconds.”

She took a heavy bulldog clip and trapped a generous pinch
of foreskin between its tight jaws then hung the ensemble from a hook in the
wall.  From a small drawer she took a
foot-long metal ruler and a tiny vicious-looking whip with eight thin leather
strands, each terminating in a tight little knot.  She offered both soundlessly to Alice who
dithered pleasurably for a few moments before selecting the whip. 

They waited a moment longer, then Serena said “That’ll do”
and the two ladies went vigorously to work.

Alice had whipped men’s genitals before, of course.  But there was something delightfully different
about flicking the thin leather strands across a pair of balls that dangled at
the end of an object itself hanging from a clipped foreskin.  They moved more than she was used to, the
punished testicles acting as the weight of a pendulum that swang back and forth
as Alice rhythmically struck from one side to the other.  Serena got into the game too, cracking her
ruler to accelerate the battered testicles as they swung back, at one point
cracking so hard that they described a complete circle.

“We could try hooking them up to one of those… what do you
call them – tennis things” gasped Alice, her eyes shining with excitement.

“Swingball!” Serena called back joyously, sending Peter the
lawyer’s testicles hurtling around another full circle.  She grinned at her lover, delighted by her
creativity.  It was Serena who usually
came up with the most unpleasant ideas between the two of them, but she herself
would be the first to admit she would not have invented half the things she
had, without someone to show them off to. 

They batted back and forth for a few minutes more, then
stopped to admire their handiwork.  Peter’s
balls (or, technically, Serena’s balls that happened to be attached to Serena’s
male body often designated ‘Peter’) were swollen and purple.  In
places, burst blood vessels added a still darker patch to the abused
flesh.  Serena took out her phone with
satisfaction, dialled two digits and held it out on speaker.

“Th… thank you Mistress Serena” sobbed the man at the other
end.

“And?” snapped Serena.

“And… and…. I deserved it, and I need the punis – “

“I mean, Miss Alice, you ungrateful little sod!” shouted
Serena and clicked the phone off, in the middle of a gasped “Oh – thank you Miss
A-“.  Then she grasped the abused scrotum
hanging so forlornly on the wall and began twisting it around and around, swapping
hands to maintain the tension as she did so. After six turns, the penis reminded
Alice of a wet towel twisted around to administer a beating (another image that
recalled fond memories of school days, when she had made boys beat one another to
win her favour) but this time it was the rolled-up sausage itself that took the
beating, as Serena expertly cracked the steel ruler across it, working her way
around and down to ensure no nerve endings were left untreated.

Finally, she stopped, allowed the bruised, battered mass to
unravel itself, and hung it back inside the cabinet, beneath the sign proclaiming
the lucky recipient of the desperate nerve signals shrieking their agony out through
the dimensionless portal, to be ‘Peter the lawyer’.

“Aren’t you going to put the chastity tube back on?” asked
Alice, always alert to the danger that a male might obtain some enjoyment in what
was intended to be the eternal misery of his life.  Serena cast an expert eye over the dark
purple mounds that held the future of Peter’s genetic line.

“Probably no need” she murmured.  “Still: best to make sure” and she reached
out and tugged the testicles smartly in a half-circle and down, in a single
sharp motion.  “There” she said.

Serena had more things to show her dear sweet Alice, but
Alice insisted on leading her back through her own portal, the one leading to
her bedroom where, dear reader, whatever the laws of physics might say, you and
I cannot follow.

[End of Part 1. Will there be a Part 2?  Who knows.  I certainly don’t.  Update: now I do and here it is.  And even a Part 3]



It’s OK, they’ve finished now.  You’re allowed in to bring them breakfast when summoned.  It’ll make a nice change for Alice, not to have to wait until that lazy bastard Dave finally gets around to thinking of someone other than himself… **

**(Actually this isn’t a picture of them either.  I was asked not to use real pictures of either lady and when I asked why, Serena muttered something about needing to keep her anonymity so she can track down and ‘collect’ readers of this blog, whatever that means.  Anyway, she’s a very private person.)


 *  Attentive readers might be aware that in an earlier story, that is exactly what happened.  But what is ‘earlier’ and what ‘later’ when we are dealing with concepts such as faster-than-light travel, which can break the laws of causality?  And, for that matter, with Serena and Alice, who have never yet encountered a law they did not feel they could break if they really, really wanted to?  Life is not linear.  It’s more like a wibbly-wobbly ball of timey-wimey…stuff, anyway.

PS – It has just this second occured to me that although I created this series in 2011, the only professional dominatrices I have seen on any kind of a regular basis  in the last five years have been… Serena and Alice.  Both are utterly, utterly wonderful, neither is really much like the characters here***, but I just wonder… is this a subconscious thing?  Or might there be something to this time travel malarky after all?  Cue spooky music…

 *** Except, come to think of it, in hair colour.  Spooky ooky…

Unoriginal sins





Don’t worry: you’ll feel her pain






It probably wouldn’t say anything very interesting, to be honest.  Mostly whiny pleading.  They’re not missing anything.


Like many male teachers in girls’ secondary schools, he often finds himself being the teacher who has to deal with the bullies.
I understand that if you actually open them up, by breaking the flesh from whipping too hard for example, you can void the warranty.  But it doesn’t sound like she’s done that, so it’s probably OK.









She’s not a pro-domme, anyway, because to the eternal howls of anguish from love-sick slaves, I believe Lady Sophia Black has retired.

Secondary sex characteristics

In case you’re wondering about the title, that’s the term used in biology for aspects of sex determination other than genitalia.  So, for example, typical male secondary sex characteristics are incompetence, laziness and servility, while typical female ones include divinity, firmness and unapproachability.  Secondary sexual characteristics can be particularly useful when the primary sexual characteristics are missing or too small to see.

Many people find such labelling unduly restrictive in these days of gender fluidity.  I asked my SO what she thought my main sex characteristics were and she just looked puzzled and said she couldn’t think of any.  So there’s hope for the world.


And soon he’ll have a lot.


Mistress Eleise, of course, who has more sexual characteristics than one could list in one hundred blog posts and even managed to retain her poise and grace on several occasions when her Paris apartment was flooded with an inundation of raw, untreated Servitor.




If you do everything she says voluntarily then you don’t get whipped – so where’s the compulsion in that?




Even in exile,  the OWK ladies still speak fondly of the ‘Great Slave Rebellion, though the OWK itself is no more.  There are rumours that the perpetrators are still imprisoned in cells deep beneath the grounds of the former utopia. An unlikely story, true, but they must be somewhere.




Welcome to Plan A.





Balloons?  Anime cosplay?

I’ve suffered for my art

Now it’s your turn.


I suppose a little light felching’s not going to harm my heterosexual credentials.


Brave?  I don’t know the meaning of the word ‘fear’.  Janice does, though.


Safewords only work if you’re actually safe.

Goths, eh? Better humour her, she’s obviously very upset.








Or unless they commit serious crimes, such as making sexist jokes or publishing disrespectful captioned images of famous actresses, obviously.
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