Send Him To Me: part II

I say almost nothing until the arm binders are laced up snugly from each shoulder to wrist, the hands pointed within their mitts. The harness is fastened over his body and cinched tight. I direct him to stand on the black circle in the center of the leather straps piled on the floor like a sloughed off snake's skin.

I love the sound of the suspension winch. I feel a swoon bloom over my body with the ominous taktaktaktaktak of the chain being pulled through, just like the sound of a roller coaster before it is given over to gravity. Pulling and pulling the chain through causes the slack pile of leather to come to life. It rises past his knees and past his chest, over his head as it constricts around him, making him into a tight tube of human flesh. The exposed skin pops out in diamond shapes where it's crisscrossed severely by the leather cage. Through one diamond I pass his genitals, drumming my nails on the hard plastic chastity device. I pick up the phone beside me and dial your number.

"This device is much too large for him, I can tell he's been slipping out behind your back." He doesn't know how I can tell, but his face flushes deeply all the same. "Punish him for it, if you wouldn't mind, Violette?" I assure you that I've already begun as I pull once more on the chain and he just barely lifts off the ground. I give his cage a little push, just to show him how helpless he is in there. He squeals and whimpers, tries to shift his body for comfort and to avoid the canes he's just noticed on the table beside me.

I hang up the phone and pick up a cane in one gesture, breathe in and pull back, swinging forward before he's had a chance to squirm; stripes over the diamonds of exposed skin. I reach out to steady him with dark nails clutching his device tight.

Send Him To Me: part I

I love it when you send him to me.

Because he's been awful, he needs to be punished. It bores you to flog him as severely as he needs it, and you need to call in a professional.

I love it when you send him to me.

Because he's a sissy, a slut, and he needs to be trained. I have all the panties and heels, the make-up and the collar.

I love it when you send him to me.

Because he's been good, and he deserves a treat. You trust me with your property, so you send him to me.

You've locked him in chastity, but you know I might need access so you duct tape the key to his chest. He has to find everything on the list I've written for him before he earns the privilege of seeing me. I love thinking about him, fumbling with his wallet in the lingerie shop, the hardware store. With all the items gathered, he stands on my doorstep, shaking. You've made it clear that you and I will be in contact during and after his visit to discuss his behavior and progress. He imagines every action being reported to you. We'll scrutinize him, take photographs of the results.

I let him step just inside the door, but before we've exchanged any words, I unbutton his shirt and rip off the tape and key and quite a bit of hair. He winces, but that's not my problem. You've already told me just what he needs.

Sissy Bo Peep

The San Francisco Chronicle is running a wonderful photo piece about crossdressing in the 20th century. As the article notes, we don't know much about these individuals. Was is a hobby? A costume party? A lifestyle? A kink? I think it's important to note that almost every face is beaming brightly with the pleasure of gender transgression! This image is one of my favourites: the ruffled bonnet, bloomers, corset, and stockings really fulfill my secret Bo Peep kink! It's not very secret, really; those who came to visit me when I was sessioning at The E. I. will recall the portrait of me as sultry, aloof Bo Peep with a wide-eyed and willing baby goat at the end of a leash. Perhaps I can somehow digitize it and put it on my site!

It's interesting to speculate on the person behind the camera in this image. Is it another sissy partner in secret dress-up crime? Is it a wife or Dominant Lady who is force feminizing for her own pleasure? Is this frilly little lassie smug? Embarrassed? Giddy? The face below that lacy little cap certainly doesn't give up its secrets so readily.

Compact, Sexy Control! Just What I Always Wanted!

Tara Sterling just introduced me to this gorgeous little piece of genius: the Kali's Teeth Bracelet.

I can't wait to have one of my very own. There are certain individuals who shall remain nameless to whom it should definitely be applied!

Does everyone love it as much as I do?

New Phone Schedule

Recently I had a very funny message on my voicemail. It was a very cranky voice saying "Ohhh! She never answers her phone!" and then hanging up. I suppose it has been hard to get ahold of me by phone lately for those who are unable to leave a number and a few windows of time in which I might return their call.

Beginning this week, I'll be posting my phone hours on my calendar each week. Click on "Phone Hours" for that day to see the start and end times. You're welcome to try me outside of Phone Hours, but you may end up having to leave a message or try back another time.

Speak with you soon!

A Sadistic Governess? Me?

I always love to play in the morning, when everything feels fresh. I like the feeling of going from bright sun into a candle-lit dungeon, and brightness again after. The rest of my day feels enchanted and the stars all align for me. I find the book I've been looking for for 6 years. Food tastes better and I can hear the birds through the city sounds that usually obscure them.

The right music, the right stockings, the right paddle. Texture feels more important in the morning. I'm more verbal in the morning. I don't know if ch. expected to get such a scolding with his corporal punishment. I didn't stop to ask. As his Governess, I had been entrusted by his parents to give him an education not only in the usual scholastic matters, but also in moral hygiene and general behavior.

After a very good week, I allowed him out to attend a party being thrown by some other adolescent boys in the neighborhood. When he wasn't home by curfew, I lied to his parents to protect him. After that, ch. was really over a barrel. When he finally showed his face the following morning, I pulled him by his ear through my rosy bedchamber and into the study. Nose against the wall. Stripped down and dressed down, interrogated and made to answer for his actions. Choosing the implements of his own punishment, he began to whimper and quake. Lining them up on the bed, I smirked in pleasure.

Up until now, he had been punished like a child; ruler across the knuckles, quickly taken over my knee. But his progression into teenage misbehavior tells me it's time to punish him like a youth. The first punishment must be so severe as to deter future misdeeds, which would then require further disciplinary measures.

Used: Paddle. Strap. Cane.
Him: Touching his toes, over my lap, bent over the bed.
Me: Hard. Swift. Endless.
Him: Yelping. Sobbing. Pleading mercy.
Flesh: Pink then red then purple.

He lay still, head in my lap, for quite a long time after. It was just what he needed.

"You don't mention anything about being a true sadist on your website!" he exclaimed joyfully afterward.

Consider this my confession, but remember that I cradled him tenderly!

What Has a Few Holes, Two Stockings, and One Purpose in Life?

It's good when you do your homework. It's good for you and it's good for me, and it's good for the nice boys and girls at home who are reading along.

My sissymaid needs the kind of discipline that can only be administered while wearing a girdle and stockings. This discipline should fall painfully across the rear of a bestockinged submissive, bound over a spanking horse, spread and ready for whatever it takes to produce compliance!

Dear Miss Thorngate,

I do so apologize, business travel called me away; of course there is no excuse in my statement.

Thank you for the attitude adjustment in our recent session. As a sissymaid for the domestic and sexual service of my wife, it is most helpful to have my views and attitudes towards service adjusted through corporal discipline. I shall not forget the taste of soap, the spreader on my mouth inviting deeper penetration than any willing slut would have allowed, and I shall consider that lesson when opening my mouth to my wife in the future.

Your training of my body posture and feminine walking was also of great insight. Women wear high heels to please men, I wear them in service to women. Being corseted, chained and hobbled while walking in them again pushed my appreciation for women well beyond what a women endures.

Your training has taken me to a good place in the service of women. My chastity cage keeps me focused on the sexual needs of my wife, and the corporal punishment was reinforcement of my role as service provide, domestic hand and house husband. And I am the better for it. Thank you!