Being on lockdown in southern Spain, having to spend afternoon by my pool in the villa, it sounds like hard work, no? But there are compensations and opportunities to find new willing (and unwilling slaves) keen to serve their mistress of the Costas. The other day i was doing some shopping in the local flea market. It’s a bustling place but these days there aren’t many foreigners around among the Spanish locals. One of my favourite stalls sells all the sorts of things my wicked mind likes to use – pulleys, rope, clamps, adjustable spanners and hammers. All good fun excpt the stallholder is a dickhead of the highest order. A Spanish macho male who likes to lord it over women. And of course when he sees a beautiful English senora, what does he do? He drools and slavers eyeing up her lithe body but fixes on her blonde hair. Blonde = dumb to him and his kind. So he treats me with much disrespect. He is about to learn a lesson that will be hard to forget. I buy a rope and tackle – ‘You gonna hang up some poor man si?’ He thinks this is funny but the smile will be on the other side of his face when the man hanging will be him. i tell him I’ve got some DIY jobs to do at my villa but am going to need help to do the job. He slavers and thinks he’s on to a winner. ‘I will help you senora..when can I come round?’ I chuckle inwardly and tell him to visit me the next evening. After dark. He slavers more expecting no doubt to be inside my villla and inside my pants. Little does he suspect. The next day I make preparations with the very stuff that the randy Spaniard sold me – the pulley and rope fixed to a beam in the cellars, ropes for binding, metal chains for holding a man down, spanners for squeezing his nipples and a ragged bit of rubber tubing that can have many uses. I couldn’t wait for the next day when my battle with that Spanish bull-shitter would begin. I will hear the shouts of ‘ole!’ as i taunt him with my red cloak, needle his body with pins and clamps – I will be the toreador of torture!
Part two to come….
Who Let The Subs Out Of The Bag
You know the expression ‘two peas in a pod’? – well how about having two subs in a sack? As you can see from my movie clip, two of my slaves were ‘enjoying’ a get together in a body bag made for two. I think this is a unique form of incarceration – well I invented it so I should know. The two subs were placed in the tight fitting bag – one tied, the other not, -there was no escape. Wriggle as they might, there was no way out of this Latex sleeping bag (although it was not meant for sleep)I had a hilarious time watching the two squirm like a couple of ferrets in a sack.
One had her hands free so on command could play with the cock and balls of the other tied up rodent. It must have been hot trapped in there but that only made for more fun as their two bodies slid and slithered inside the sweaty sack. I had a good giggle watching them obey may orders and it was hard to resist (so I didn’t) giving the bag the odd kick and shove. I love my invention so much that I have plans for post lockdown fun. Maybe order two subs who dislike each other to spend a whole net tete a tete – as well as cock a cock and arse a arse!! They would have to struggle to find a comfy spot and one would come out on top – literally. Oh yes when it comes to new forms of torture – your mistress has it in the bag!
Social distance domination.
When I heard that the government was going to impose a ‘lockdown’ you
can imagine how excited I got. I’ve been locking down slaves for many
years. My Oubliette dungeon has seen many a naked male locked in
chains down beneath the feet of his mistress, or if lucky, gang of
mistresses. Of course I soon realised that this lockdown meant staying
at home and operating a good few feet between people. It also means
that for the moment, visitors to the dungeon are not allowed – but I
did have one unexpected arrival who never forgot what a real ‘lock
down’ would mean. He learnt a lot that day and has the scars to prove
it…literally!
He had come to look at a leaky gas appliance and I kept my distance
while he fiddled around with his tools. He was quite a young, muscular
specimen, just the type I like to play with. ‘I will soon be fiddling
with his tools’, I thought trying to supress an evil grin.
After he’d finished I pretended there was a leaky gas smell in the
adjoining building. Would he investigate. He nodded and I followed him
in to a room he had never expected to see- my dungeon equipped as it
was with throne, spanking bench, whips, stocks, cages and torture bed.
His face was a sight to see. His jaw almost dropped to the floor as
first he looked at the instruments of torment around the dungeon and
then back to me.
‘Any of this interest you Mr Gasman’, I said in a seductive voice. He
swallowed hard and said something like he’d been looking at femdom
porn but never seen it in real life.
‘Would you like to try it?’ I asked in my most innocent voice. He
nodded, too dry mouthed with excitement mixed with fear, to say
anything.
‘Well then, the first stage is to get undressed and wait for me at
the other end of the chamber. Remember we will keep our two metre
distance at all times. This will be arms length domination.’
He rapidly stripped and did what he was told; stood stark naked at the
end of the room. I left him for a moment while I put on my nursey
swabs, masks and all. Rubber gloves of course. Apron and boots. He
gasped as he saw me change into the dominant nurse. A care worker who
would soon be taking care of his bare arse.
‘To keep my distance, I am going to tell you now to kneel where you
are with your back to me and your arse high in the air. I am going to
whip you with long bullwhip and you are going to count the strokes but
most importantly not move an inch. If you come even a centimetre
closer, I will lash you unmercilessly, is that clear?’
He nodded and did what he was told. He had little choice.
And so I began, gently (by my standards) at first and then with more
power and gusto. He was a good boy and counted all the strokes up to
50 including the ones past 25 when the purple stripes on his bum were
turning to oozing red.
At the last stroke, I told him to take down a pair of my thigh length
boots stored on the shelf above his head, and give them a damn good
clean with his tongue.
I watched him do this from my thrown. He could see behind my face mask
that I meant business and no slacking was allowed.
After I was satisfied that my boots were sparkling clean, I ordered
him to get dressed and get out.
He did so bowing and scraping and holding on to his sore behind. I
watched him as he left up the driveway, half limping but looking
pleased with himself. I imagine that when the lockdown is over, he’ll
be back and I’ll be locking him down good and proper.
Shock and Awe
Mistress Krush is a very good friend, but she can be really shocking.
Literally. I mean that she loves using electrics on naughty and
disgusting slaves. In one of Oubliette’s recent films we see her
working up that sadistic mind of hers to a state of cruel frenzy.
Dressed in a super sexy black bra, leather corset and black stockings,
she shows the trussed up slave, hooded and vulnerable on a St Andrew’s
Cross, what she has in that kinky mind of hers. She puts on her long
black gloves – ready for torment. They feel soft and nice but the
naked slave won’t be feeling so happy once the mistress takes charge
of her wicked electric wand. Always keen on anatomy, Mistress Krush
explores every inch of his body with Oubliette’s electro pain
dispenser. As she caresses his bollocks with her implement, he cries
out in agony especially as Krush turns up the heat on those buzzing
volts. Attaching metal claws to her right glove, the torment continues
as she scrapes and scratches all over his tender body. His screams are
almost feline, high pitched with horror. It is all good fun for
Mistress Krush who is proud of her slave for taking so much pain. It
is clear that she is enjoying every torturous minute. There is one
moment where he metal claw is placed dangerously close to his jap’s
eye. She is less pleased with his constant wriggling and squirming.
‘Stop moving!’ she orders and despite his pain (and fear of coming
pain) he does as he is told – lucky slave!
What happens next – especially to his tender nipples you can only
imagine but actually you don’t need to – just watch the video. Don’t
be shocked!
Beg for my Heels
When it comes to naked male slaves Mistress Krush knows how to put her
foot down. Especially true when those gorgeous feet are clad in
stockings and six-inch stiletto heels. Sitting on the Oubliette’s
leather sofa looking as gorgeous as she is cruel, Krush summons the
wretched slave into the room. He knows just what is expected – to lick
her long pointed heels squeaky clean with his willing wet tongue.
First he has to beg for them – nothing comes easy to a slave of this
Mistress. That’s an Oubliette rule.
Removed from his cage, the slave is ordered to lie flat out on the
floor before working hard on her shoes. It seems though that he needs
some encouragement. Happily Mistress Krush has her own method of slave
encouragement – a cat-o-nine tails which is expertly flicked on his
bare back and vulnerable balls. As she rests her leather soles on his
cheekbone, she continues to expect the highest standard of shoe
cleaning. He is more than a shoe-shine boy though – he is a pain slut
who deserves constant punishment. Luckily Mistress Krush knows no
bounds and has a clever knack of squeezing his knackers as she gives
him calm instructions on how each heel, each sole and each leather
upper needs careful attention from his worthless mouth.
She teases him with her stockinged toes – pretty and fragrant
providing him with some pleasure as he caresses her feet (even though
Mistress Krush continues to work her strong grip on his throbbing
testicles). He breathes in her feminine flavours – sniffing and
licking as she continues to apply her vice like grip on his aching
nether regions.
If you want to see a cruel mistress at the top of her game, don’t miss
‘Beg for my heels’.
Brochettes de scrotum
Don’t needle Mistress Krush – she knows how to use her sharp needles
to get maximum flinch from a tortured slave boy. The slave’s naked
body was tightly strapped into the torture bed as Krush dressed in
tight PVC skirt towered over the face of the tormented one and laid
down a few house rules; the main one being that she was totally in
charge and that he was there to suffer and serve. Further anchoring
his hips and ankles she tells him not to try to close his legs
together –she wants to see tension in his lower body. Her words are
delivered with cool precision. This is a lady who knows what she
wants. And will get it.
His cock is in chastity and she ties the device to the overhead bar to
provide a wonderfully vulnerable set of genital targets. She pulls his
ball sac every which way. Donning her pair of leather gloves she
demands hand worship. She squeezes and pulls the bollocks until they
are ready to pop. He begs her to desist – she laughs – only she will
decide.
It is then that Krush shows the slave her box of 20 or so needles.
With cold-hearted precision and her sadistic running commentary, she
slowly, ever so slowly, pushes each needle into his bollocks. His
sharp intakes of breath responding to the waves of searing pain are
music to her ears. She creates a beautiful pattern using his scrotum
as a tapestry. Krush’s face is a picture – intense concentration as
each sharp sliver of metal finds its new home in his balls; her voice
soft, focused and determined. Mercy is not on her mind.
What goes in must come out and the slave’s pain-fest continues as
Mistress Krush slowly extracts each pin – her sadistic mind now in
overdrive as she twists them out.
She admires her work – enjoys the sight of the tiny crimson pearls of
blood decorating his groin. She grips his balls as the last few pins
are pulled out.
If you want to see a real professional sadist hard at work – devoted
to the production of pain, then you will do well to watch this. There
is suffering but also beauty as the red droplets contrast against
Krush’s jet black gloves. There is also reward as the slave’s tongue
is ordered into action to clean up the sweat on mistress’s body
including her armpit. Torture is hot work as you will see in
Brochettes du scrotum
A Little Tension
Mistress knows best. That is the motto of our beautiful guest
dominatrix, the celebrated Mistress Adreena. Gorgeously inked and
ready for action in her super high heels, and tight blak PVC dress,
she sits on the Oubliette throne waiting to give her slave her full
attention – or should I say Att-tension. The evil bitch lady wrapped a
thin rope around his balls and suspended it on to our ceiling bar
creating a pulley of pain. She begins the session with some serious
nail work on his flinching skin – this mistress talks soft and
punishes hard. Her black painted nails, sharp and long like those of a
wildcat, then get to work on the soft folds of his balls. She knows
exactly how and where to place them, how far to dig them in, how long
to leave them buried in the sac. Her kindly appearance changes to
something more determined as she slaps his arse and applies her
devilish pinwheel to his cock. Unusually mistress allows the slave to
answer back and there is a kind of dialogue of the damned as his words
turn to groans with each application of her torture device or sharp
nails.
The session continues with Adreena’s noisy crop – she is determined to
leave her mark..on that lilly white arse. There is a red theme as the
mistress’s hair, leather crop and the marks on that bottom colour
coordinate. Her slaps get harder and the conversation between mistress
and slave a touch more tense. He is suffering. She is relentless. She
is Mistress Adreena. And you won’t forget this film in a long time.
Dirty Panty Sniffer
This film proves beyond doubt that Bonnie Brown can now be called
Mistress Bonnie Brown. She has earned her spurs (am sure she’ll be
using those for torture before long). She looks awesome as she is
dressed in long black lace-up thigh boots, stockings, bra and leather
cap. The naked slave beneath her feet is mainly interested in another
part of her clothing – her black panties. He is as it turned out, an
obsessive panty sniffer and was caught in the act by Mistress Bonnie.
She recognised the knickers covering his face as ones stolen from her
private drawer. But she says, if he likes panties so much, he can
sniff the ones she is wearing, have been wearing all day and have
become nicely fragrant with her pungent body odours. She sits on top
of him, her worn knickers in his face. She orders him to put his
tongue up her arse as she slaps his bare cock. Looking like some evil
guardess, she stands over him, verbally abusing him and forcing him to
lick her heels. Then she sits again on his face, pulls her panties
aside, his tongue up her arsehole as she wanks her pussy. The camera
picks up the beads of femme moisture as she gets hot on threatening
the slave with sadistic violence. She is great at verbal humiliation
and makes the slave feel like the lowest life form. She orders him
never to put his cock into use again. A few slaps on his cock rams
home her point. She is strong, tough and vicious. Welcome to the true
world of femdom – Mistress Bonnie Brown.
Swingballbusting – you Tarzan, Me Bonnie
Bonnie Brown, my sub, is learning new tricks as she is starting to
enjoy switching to domination. But she is a very naughty sub as I
don’t always give my permission for her to punish a slave. Take the
other day when the minx took it on herself to try ballbusting on one
of my most masochistic slaves. I had left the naked worm ready for
action when I had to leave the dungeon to attend to a phone call.
I ordered the naked Bonnie Brownto keep an eye on the chained-up
Charlie. She asked the slave what he was doing there and he told her
that he’d booked Mistress Paris for a ballbusting session. She must
have been turned on by this thought because without my permission she
subjected the slave to all manner of creative bollock cracking – some
of which I’m sure hasn’t been seen on film before.
She had never done ballbusting before but there is an amazingly
creative mind inside that tall slim body. I don’t know if Bonnie is a
fan of the Tarzan movies but she held on to a ceiling bar and swung
into action – her super athletic body aiming its feet at his waiting
cock and balls. It’s amazing that I didn’t hear the crack of toes on
tackle or the high-pitched whine of pain from the slave’s gob.
Like some strong jungle Jane, she continued to swing into action. But
that was only the beginning.
She soon got the hang of smacking his hanging balls – loving every
minute. What came next looks like some perverted Olympic gymnastics.
She suspended herself from another ceiling bar but this time behind
the slave’s body. From here she could wrap her long slim legs around
his waist and use her feet to hammer against his sensitive scrotum.
Another original trick was to trap his stiff long cock (he must have
been enjoying this) between her strong thighs and then pulling
backwards. Where did she learn these tortures? Not from me though I
thought I knew every trick in the torturer’s book.
Making sure that I was well out of the way, she continued to whack his
tackle with her feet saying that she loves to see a man squirm. More
traditional ballbusting continued – slapping, punching and kicking –
she was relentless and obviously enjoyed seeing him in pain, wriggling
like a worm. It turned her on as you can see in the film with glimpses
of her moistening pussy. Like some demented athlete, Bonnie ended the
session by sitting on the slave’s shoulders and using her feet to
crack his nuts.
I know that Bonnie is a sub of mine, a novice domme but as the film
proves, there are times when the student can teach the teacher. Watch
the film – you will have a swinging time.
Double Trouble for slave H
When it comes to torture, two is a crowd. Mistress Serena and I had
such fun recently having Slave H totally at our mercy. He’s one of our
favourite slaves – his pain limits are very high and I’m not even sure
that we have reached them yet. But we are enjoying trying to get there
I can tell you. H didn’t know that two cruel dommes would be using up
their precious time in tormenting his body. He assumed that only his
Mistress Paris would be giving him a hard time. And when I say ‘hard’
I don’t just mean the level of punishment: he had a hard-on as stiff
as the Eiffel Tower during our pain fest! H loves pushing the
boundaries and that is exactly where Serena and I love to be – the
mother and daughter of all torturers.
H’s session began on the Andrew’s Cross – blindfolded and stark naked,
I began gently – whispering sweet threats into his ear, caressing the
nipples and cock that soon would be pulsating with pain. I ran my
blood-red fingernails down his body – from neck to knee stepping on
the pressure as they scratched his nipples and pinched his balls. A
fine pair of steel clamps were placed on his useless man tits and
there was a soft cry of pain – perhaps more a surprised outtake of
breath. I will come on to his breath in a moment. This was all
followed by some electrics around his cock – all the time the buzzing
and pulsating waves of shock were accompanied by my soft words of
endearment – ‘good slave’ ‘good boy’ ‘take it and make Mistress
happy’.
After half an hour so of constant pain and pleasure, I undid H from
the cross and removed his blindfold. He was already sweaty with the
effort of taking it all but his eyes showed me how grateful he was for
his mistress’ attention. He didn’t realise that waiting out of view,
on the dungeon stairs, was Mistress Serena; smiling in anticipation of
the tortures she had in mind for the wretch.
I strapped him to the torture bed and replaced his eye mask. He had no
idea that Serena was now in the dungeon and was about to administer
her own brand of agony. But first I wanted to have a go with a lovely
bunch of nettles. Slowly I ran the prickly plant over his body –
trunk, sore nipples and then on to his waiting cock. I used the
nettles as a whip smacking the taught skin of his erection and enjoyed
the moans as the tiny irritant hairs on the leaves made contact with
his skin.
Then it was a quiet change – I stepped back and Serena, almost
drooling with anticipation (she so loves to torture men) took over.
She too administered the nettle whip but also plugged him into a
vicious electro device roughly attached to this painful testicles. As
she upped the current, she took a favourite whip and began to beat the
soles of his bare feet,
obviously every one knows how much i love to administer Bastinado so I couldn’t wait my turn so Bastinado it was , god how he cried out in agony but we knew he could take more a lot more .
The session went on for another whole hour – beatings, electro and
breath play – Mistress’ strong hands covering the slave’s mouth and
nose so that every intake of breath became gradually harder. At the
point where no air could get into his lungs, he squirmed and writhed
like a boiled crab. His yells and cries for mercy only made us smile.
Still he thought only Paris was in charge.
Another ordeal awaited. Serena attached a strong vibrator to his waist
strap so that its buzzing head came into contact with the tip of his
cock. Then she took off her shoes and barefooted, walked all over his
bondaged body. Her gorgeous feet tramped along his chest and her naked
heels pressed into his balls; her delicate toes ran over over the
length of his pulsating cock.
When we thought he was sufficiently pained, we both went on to edge
him to climax – edge and withdrawal of course. Serena is very good at
this and knows exactly when to let go of a pulsating cock just before
explosion. And so this was his lot – massage to orgasm, balls filling
up with cum, but denied relief. We could have kept this going for
hours but after about 45 minutes we allowed him to shoot his load. And
what a load. The whole of his trunk was covered in sperm.
As a final act, Serena ordered him to lick it all off. Only then did
we remove his blindfold to reveal that his torture was at the hands of
two dommes – the mother and daughter of all mistresses
Peg Legs (arms and bodies too)
You’ve heard the phrase ‘taking him down a peg or two’? Well in a recent session we mistresses took a slave down at least 40 pegs – all the way up and down his naked body. Mistress Serena and I held the soon-to-be tortured slave in the bedroom of our dungeon space.
Mistress Serena in her tight-fitting black bodice and spangly tights was in a particularly cruel mood; though I came a very close second. Standing erect and butt naked, our victim – hands and feet tightly bound – was ready for the peg fun – ours!
Standing on either side of his torso, we selected our cache of brand-new clothes pegs. They were chosen, by me, for being particularly tight gripping on to skin like a relentless piranha. I applied the first peg to the slave’s left nipple. He gave a short gasp of pain. ‘That’s just the beginning, by the time we’ve finished with you you will be more peg than man,’ I whispered. Mistress Serena laughed and added, ‘Not that you’re much of a man now!’
She continued the torture by pegging his right nipple and applying one of the pegs to the skin just below. That produced a low moan. In the next few agonising minutes (for him) we both applied the pegs to either side of his trunk. Each peg led to a groan of pain and a quiver of his whole body. One of the pegs broke and that annoyed me. I slapped his face hard with a stern rebuke, ‘Look what you have done!’ That also annoyed Mistress Serena who at the best of times has a cold-hearted look that can reduce any man to a wobbling jelly of fear.
Having covered his upper body, Mistress and I began on his arms and legs. Not daring to writhe in pain, the slave just swallowed all the pain we could dole out..and that was a lot. Mistress Serena added to his discomfort with her gentle-sounding comments – ‘Do you know what we’re going to do with these pegs?’ and ‘are you ready to really suffer and suffer for us?’ All he could do is nod in pathetic response.
Once fully covered in clothes pegs, we then went on to Round Two of his torments. Mistress Serena and I took hold of our riding crops and one-by-one, slowly but firmly, we whipped the pinching beasts off his body – peg at a time. Each swish of the crops brought out a howl of pain. ‘That is music to my ears’ said Mistress Serena pouting her lips with mock sympathy. She is very good at that. She can sound like your strictest nanny.
Once we had whipped off every peg, we let the slave go and think about his subservience to his gorgeous mistresses. He had been brought down a peg or two (just add 40 to that).
Watch the clip here
