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

Ruined cum. Pain – the top and bottom of it.

 

As a fully-fledged pain slut, Wifey can take a lot and of course, I can give it. The other day I had real fun filming a session of what I call, end-to-end torment; top to toe torture. After all, why just focus on a slave’s balls or arse or nipples when you can have it all?

 

I couldn’t wait to get my cruel hands on his prostrate body – but it wasn’t only my hands that gave Wifey such a hard time; my dungeon has so many instruments of pain I hardly knew where to start.

 

The session began with Wifey prostrate on my torture bed. His arms and hands were strapped down and I tightened up the leather belts around his chest. Tight, but not too tight as a I don’t want him to stop breathing – not just yet anyway.

 

I checked that Wifey’s chastity cage was well and truly locked into his cock. Yes, it was all in place and that dick was going nowhere. His balls were nicely swollen and of a lovely shade of purple as a result of the tight metal bars holding them firmly in place. Of course, I couldn’t help but to tease the taught skin of his ball sac with my long fingers and nicely sharp nails.

 

And so dressed in my short leather skirt, leather top and boots I began Wife’s pain session in earnest. First I attached my infamous nipple clamps – lovely steel pegs attached to the overhead bar on the bed and suspended by strong chains. There was a yelp from Wifey as the clamps were attached to his vulnerable nipples but this was only the start. The yelps became gasps of pain as I hoisted the clamps by turning the ratchet on the bar. As the clamps were lifted, his nipples of course stretched to bursting point and all you could hear was a cry of pained anguish.

 

With his top half in pain, it was now time to turn to his lower bits. I ordered him to spread his legs apart – and encouraged him to obey with a few well aimed taps on the testicles. What came next was a surprise – for him a nasty one. I lubed up my electro-dildo and shoved it up his arse.

 

My electrics are not for pussies – well for male ones, they are. I turned up the dial to 11 and his arse tube filled with agonising pulses of pure pain. His groans filled the dungeon air – music to my ears.

 

With his bum getting the full electro works, I turned my attention back to his nipples. Hoisting them up high again but this time giving him a little soothing therapy – a rubbed my ample tits into his face and whispered sweet nothings that made me sound sorry for what I was doing to him. Wifey knows that I don’t mean it of course. All adds to the bitchy teasing that I enjoy. On, off, on off – each time the clamps were removed, more severe pain.

 

I gave his sore balls a nice licking with my tongue but remembered to keep pulling on the chains to make his nipples stand to attention. Think of me as a sergeant major of pain.

 

It was time to add something to the torture experience. I sat astride Wifey’s face and ordered him to lick my panties. I sat hard on his nose and mouth so forcing him to gasp for breath. Being a merciful domme I lent forward to release his cock from the chastity cage. Off came the metal bars and on went my fingers. I started to give the poor dick a bit of special wank.

 

After all this TLC (tender loving cock torture) I decided to up the ante. Time for a bit of nettle play. I grow my own nettles in such a way that their sting becomes much more potent than usual. It’s nature giving something back. With my gloved hand, I rubbed the nasty nettles into his hardening cock. A nettle sting comes in waves – not unlike an electric shock. Wifey groaned loudly as nature’s stings got to work coursing agonising torments through his lower body. Enjoying myself even more now, I wrapped the luscious nettle leaves around his cock and wanked it hard. Agonised cries filled the space around my torture bed – as his orgasm grew he didn’t know whether to plead for me to stop or beg for me to continue. That’s exactly as I like it.

 

But I hadn’t finished with him yet. I gave his cock and nice rub with something from a tube. What was it? Soothing cream? Not a bit of it! It was heat rub meant to sooth a sore back. Imagine the mixture of sensations: prickly pain from the nettles, deep fiery heat from the gel and the desperate need to cum. Wifey’s legs, and his whole body was shaking with mixed emotions – my two favourite emotions. Yes. Agony AND ecstasy.

Watch the clip here

https://iwe.one/Vo44J

 

Foot and Ice work if you can get it! (and you can)

No-one likes a good joke more than me. I don’t know why but when I’m
torturing a slave, I can’t help but laugh, especially if he’s forced
to suck on a lolly made out of Mistress’ sacred golden nectar. You’ve
heard the expression ‘laugh till you cry’? Well, my version is ‘I
laugh till you cry’. And maybe beyond! A good example of a session
that reduced a slave to humiliating hilarity took place in my dungeon
the other day.

A slave said he wanted to foot worship. I was happy to oblige but only
if I could have lots of fun with his naked body first.

He had no
choice but to agree. And so the session began: I greeted him with
scorn in our famous torture chamber. I ordered him to get naked – fast
– and chained his arms and legs so that he formed a very nice ‘X’
shape. I ensured that his legs stayed nice and wide by clamping on a
spreader bar – one of Mistress’ countless dungeon toys. Spread-eagled
now he was all mine. Mine to enjoy!

I began by pointing and mocking his tiny cock which needed a
magnifying glass to see. Such was my disdain for it that I gave it
some hefty slaps with the back of my strong hands. ‘Did that hurt?
Yes? It’s just your starter for ten’, I laughed in his face which was
in wincing pain. I then took from my collection, a large cock pump.
Slave no doubt believed that I was about to apply it to his penis to
help it grow. In fact I held it a few inches away from his limp dick
but instead of its usual use, I stuck it firmly up his arse without
warning. That led to yet more cries of pain and anguish, but that only
made me laugh more. Then without warning I slapped the cringing
cock-cuckold hard across the face. I repeated this several times until
I heard him begging me to stop.

Red-faced with an impression of my hand, I released him from bondage.
But not for long. I ordered him to put his head  in my wall stocks and
rummaged in my collections for another one of Mistress’ toys of
torment. There it was – my stainless steel spider gag. What a gag! I
applied this to his mouth and opened the screw so that his gob was
really gaping.

‘It’s time for you to have some food and drink. See what a kind
mistress I am?’ He nodded in agreement at this but could only grunt as
his mouth was wired wide. Then, pretending to be a soft Mistress, I
wanked his cock. This came as a complete surprise to the slave who
responded in the predicted way. He soon came but I collected his mess
on a large kitchen spoon. You can guess what came next? Yes I forced
his cum down his pathetic throat.

‘Does that taste good? Your own spunk?’ He looked at me pleadingly but
I was not finished yet.

‘Are you thirsty? Do you fancy a nice ice lolly?’ He looked puzzled at
this offer. But I had something really surprising in store. Well in my
freezer to be exact. It was a tray of ic cubes made of Mistress’
golden pee. I shoved the icy piss into his open mouth, and told him to
keep it on his tongue until all the golden liquid had melted. Nearly
gagging on my melting piss, I couldn’t help but laugh until I cried.

Thus properly humiliated, I took him out of the stocks and as an extra
treat bent him over my bench to give his arse (still holding that cock
pump) a thorough caning. Let’s call his six-teen of the best!

Slave had done well to take all my humiliations and so just before he
left the dungeon I allowed him to gently suck on each of Mistress’
toes. Foot worship with a ‘bit extra’ you could say.

Why not join the fun (mine) and book a session with your laughing Mistress?