Femdom lifestyle stories

23 12 2015

sit meets his Goddess – Chapter 4: It will happen …

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When you visit the Goddess Ezada Sinn’s web site, one of the first phrases encountered is, “you will suffer … and I will enjoy it.” It’s not a question of when you will be whipped, it’s a forgone conclusion that it will just happen.

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To become Her collared slave there are three fundamentals you must live by. The first of Her triad is clear and concise, “you will be broken by My whip and must learn to love it’s kisses and the pain it brings you, because they are a gift from Me.”

Just visit Her clips4sale site https://clips4sale.com/62191 and search on the category “Whipping”. Notice Her plethora of #1 clips from the category. Buy what interests you, watch and learn. Maybe you will arrive at the same conclusion Her sit has, “The ever-present threat of Her whip keeps me in a permanent state of fear and awe of Goddess Ezada.”

Goddess likes to toy and poke at Her slave via the infraction game. The coffee’s milk is cold, “10 extra whip lashes.” you speak out of turn, “20 extra whip lashes.” you hesitate in executing Her command, “30 extra whip lashes.” Fun and games, just keep on totaling up the final tally.

Yet suddenly the fun and games stop. Out of nowhere She commands. “Follow.” “Strip naked.” “Over to the whipping stocks NOW, sit.”

i immediately obey yet silently wonder why now, it’s 4pm in the afternoon and W/we where just lounging in the warm Caribbean sun. Nearby the pool is filled with kinky folks basking in the warmth and here i am being cuffed to a torture device and starting to sweat, not from the heat but from fear. Her primary slave returns and i hear Goddess croon, “Yes I’ll use that one.”

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Seconds later Goddess gently brushes my right side with Her long stiletto fingernails. She breaths wet and heavy into my right ear as She raises the whip up to meet my lips then eyes. A jet black, 4 foot signal whip with silver tip handle and a tight laden dense dragons tail cracker. Please note that i am not a male who just enjoys being whipped with any great intensity.

“Kiss.”

The fear of waiting is soon broken by the snap of a sharp stinging pain laden onto the surface flesh of my ass. Goddess for some reason does not make me count; She just continues blow after blow. Ten strikes pass, and there is no sign She will take a break. my hands cinch down in the cuffs. At times i stand suspended, standing on one leg only. Finally a break, maybe at 20 or 25, yet i’m in no way sure.

“Good boy. Do you love me slave?” my heads nods the truth. She retorts back “Then you will learn to love My whippings slave.” The suffering on my ass continues again with no counting, however these whip kisses feel definitely more intense and focused. The furrows in my temples tell the story. Quick shorter breathes punctuate the stab of the tip when it strikes. Twenty-five or 30, again i have no firm idea how many have fallen.

Goddess looks me squarely in the face, “Oh how sweet, small tears. you will learn to love My whip kisses sit.” She barks at the waiting slave in the corner. “slave, I want pictures of sit’s first whipping.” Her labored breathing announces “Oh I love this.” Goddess Ezada steps away and resumes Her pleasure and my pain.

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Oh shit this really hurts. “Repeat the mantra slave,” She orders. “i worship You my Goddess Ezada Sinn. i belong to You.” Everything swirling around me carries on in a suspended frame of perpetuity. How long can i stand on my right leg from the blows raining down first on my left ass’s skin. The every increasing repetition of Her mantra actively counts each succeeding lash. My voice is guttural at best. i no longer hear Her voice only the crack of the whip followed by its nasty sting.

i continue to spew forth Her mantra even after She has ceased taking Her pleasure. Her eyes meet mine while i continue to repeat “i worship You my Goddess Ezada Sinn. i belong to You.” A broad smile emerges across Her face. The EASIEST whipping of the week has come to a close. She is pleased and of course that’s all that really matters.

The next day, an hour or so after lunch, She gathers all three of Her slaves and hands me two different single tail whips. We follow Her in solitary line processional order as we transverse the large pool on O/our way to the dungeon space.

“Count.” Thirty lashes on Her primary slave cuffed to the same device as i just yesterday. he remains stoic throughout yet the flinches in his whole body tell a different story. Her long standing secondary slave, the French dog, is strapped down over a whipping bench. “Count.” Fifty lashes as he whimpers and moans. Finally my name is called. i immediately remove all clothes.

“sit, lean up against the wooden frame. No ropes, no cuffs, no shackles, you will remain in place by your own freewill.” She shows me a new whip, “This whip WILL positively bite you slave, you had better breathe.”

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my upper back is now the intended target. Again, there is no command to count the strokes. Again, Goddess does not stop at 10 or 20. i forcefully grasp the wooden frame to broaden the muscles in my back in hopes of deflecting what is a far more intense burning torment than yesterday.

“DON’T move sit,” is all i remember. Oh gosh, i start to apologize but there is not enough time to complete my sentence before She resumes Her fury. On my own accord i begin to repeat Her mantra, this time in more of a crying rhythm then a speaking tone. Is it the severity of the new whip or is my upper back more sensitive that my already pummeled ass?

There is just one small break in Her cadence as Goddess steps in front of the double sided whipping frame. Her eyes appear wide and burning with evil intent and desire. Her sentences are short, to the point. “you will learn to love these whippings, sit. you will take this pain from Me. you will thank Me for it. Focus on Me slave. Focus on ME.”

my retort is weak, is feeble, is compact “Yes, Goddess.” She steps behind and begins again. i sob, i weep, i hang from the wooden as though a puppet does from the strings of its Master. Goddess stops and gloats at 100 whip lashes? Her sit can’t verify the accuracy of Her count as the flame in my upper back does not allow logical thought. Her words are true “you will suffer and I will enjoy it.” my encumbered gasps for air slowly find normal.

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Unbeknownst to me my future plight has not yet ended. sit knowingly broke a rule that following evening, as i offered a highly interested female resort worker to use a flogger on me during a supervised training session from another Domme in attendance. i was so happy to see this new Female Domme’s eyes light up with joy; however, all night sit lived with this sinking feeling that he had betrayed the spirit of Goddess Ezada’s orders.

First, morning’s light i firmly planted myself in Wait position outside Her door. The urgency for sit was to inform Goddess of my disobedience, my failure to obey. Best She hears if from me instead of gleaning it through some offhanded comment later in the day. As She sat there in a comfortable chair sipping Her fresh hot coffee with warm milk, i asked for permission to speak. She was very kind in listening to me. Goddess was pleased that Her sit had shown concern for a budding Fem Domme, yet She was clear that i had disobeyed the gist of Her orders and poignantly informed me that there would be consequences for my actions. She did not elude any details on how that punishment might play out.

Is the pain of a punishment whipping different that the agony of a pleasure whipping? i believe so. The slave is very aware of his short comings that have elevated the situation to the point that Goddess will discipline you for the infraction. i broke Her rules; i must suffer Her wrath.

That very evening i was the one commanded to find the hotel staff member in question after Her shift was done, and request that She meet Goddess in the dungeon space. i was the one who fell to my knees and confessed to both Ladies at once. i was the one again cuffed standing upright. i was the one about to be punished for my sins.

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Goddess spent an ample amount of time showing the budding Madame Nicole some whipping tips and tricks. Then they both turned their attention and direction to my already semi blistered ass cheeks. Goddess Ezada kept on directing Her to use more force. Madame Nicole happily complied yet often expressed concern that She was hurting me, whereto Goddess Ezada laughed as She stood back and struck me with even greater veracity. Twenty to 30 minutes into this round robin of thrashing whips and crops, sit is starting to feel more than uncomfortable, my skin is more than just bruised, my ego is flatly deflated. my ego feels pain.

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They both stop, and soon Goddess Ezada squarely looks me in the eyes and asks, “Are you done slave?” my response was proper “Please beat me for Your pleasure Goddess Ezada, i deserve punishment for disobeying Your orders.” Goddess steps back behind me while the Madame Nicole faces me from the front, looking compassionately into my eyes.   Goddess resumes, only this time Her whip kisses do far deeper damage than ever before. This is punishment, this is uncomfortable, this slave cries openly. Madame Nicole searches for my soul as my tears form “I’m sorry She’s hurting you, I’m so sorry.” The punishment whipping only ends when Goddess Ezada is satisfied.

Weeping. Beaten. Broken. you the slave soon learn this truth; Her whip kisses only end when the Goddess Ezada Sinn is satisfied.

10 12 2015

sit meets his Goddess – Chapter 3: Dominance at Dawn’s Light …

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One quickly realizes that Goddess Ezada rises early in the morning. Her dominant nature does not lounge quietly in bed. When the early sun touches Her face, Goddess’s body rises to touch and soak in the sun.

She refers warm over chilly, hot over cold.

The first coffee You ever deliver to Her, on your knees, is met with a violent and unexpected slap across your dumbfounded face. The label “Idiot” sticks to your forehead like flypaper. Domestic service slaves should take note, the milk on the side must be streamed or somehow warmed.

You were told to bring three filed cups. One for Her, one kindly for me and the remaining mug for the over burdened working slave, already seating in front of the computer editing Her video clips.

Outside in the warm sun Goddess finds a comfortable shaded chair, while You are directed to kneel by Her side. The cement is granular and coarse, still a wise slave just obeys. Goddess sips happily away, yet you dare not raise the mug to your lips.

Permission must be granted, and you learn quite quickly never to ask permission for certain things.

“Hand me your cup slave.” Goddess leans forward, purses Her lips together and hurls a massive wad of spit dead center into your virgin morning coffee. Learn this lesson well slave.

Goddess spits.

you display Her spit if it is on your tongue or anywhere in your mouth.

slave offers a sincere “Thank You Goddess.”

you swallow.

If Her regal spit comes to rest on your food or in your drink.

the slave offers a sincere “Thank You Goddess.”

The first morsel you imbibe CONTAINS that spit … !!

She lingers over coffee as the textured sand of the cement etches into your slave skin and knees. Don’t whimper this early in the day, intense pain comes later.

“slave, it’s time to inspect your room.” Goddess takes a firm command of everything She owns, even the way a slave unpacks his own tiny assigned room. The 4’ dragon tail snake whip She carries, will help you remember the order of things next time you travel with Her.

However, beware that the whip is not always used for punishment. It’s primary use is for Her pleasure. All those little blurbs Goddess has imbedded on Her web site “you will suffer for My pleasure,” no truer words have been spoken, dear slave.

The resort W/we are staying at for the week, is entirely occupied by 100+ kinky like minded FemDom participants. Goddess Ezada’s entourage contains two long-term slaves and me, Her newbie. A dozen or so folks have assembled poolside in the early morning hours. W/we pass them on the way to breakfast, and Goddess pauses to speak with another well known Domme. i fall into “Heel Position” the second Her hand silently announces Her directives. Yes, the texture of the cement around the pool’s edge is rough as well.

“slave sit, strip,” rattles me out of the Heel position. “Over against the wooden frame, stick out your lily white ass.” There is a large suspension frame poolside that She has directed me to lean against it. my mind stews over the discouraging fact of an early morning whipping. Before breakfast no less.

“What the fu..”

Oh my …

Oh oh my …

Oooooooh my.”

my ass cheeks have just split wide open. That’s no whip, it’s a bloody cane. Must be an acrylic cane, hell no it’s a metal cane. Canes strike more fear in sit’s heart than my Mother discovering my school boy stash of Playboy magazines.

“Two more slave.”

i wait. i worry. No, i really worry.

The second strike makes the shock of first blow disappear into the immediate past. my knees buckle forward, i rise up onto the tips of seven or eight toes as my rump shakes from outright explicit searing pain. i am no longer leaning on the wood; i am grasping onto the structure for support.

“slave, PRESENT ass”

“Yes, Goddess.”

i wait, this time with short anticipatory breaths.

i fear.

You can almost hear Goddess exhale just prior to the third and most prolific cane bite. i am not sure if i gulped or gasped at that very moment. All i remember is shuttering as i now hang off the fresh pine wood frame, suspended by my clutching hands and upper arms. This pleasant first morning at the resort has all but disappeared.

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She softly caresses my backside and seems honestly pleased at Her impromptu work. Goddess gently breathes into my left ear. “Don’t you DARE move a muscle slave, I’ll be back.” She leaves me alone caressing the warm wood of the suspension frame. Normal breathing starts to creep back into my lungs.

Comments heard from the pool. “The beatings have begun.”

“Punishment Position” i comply only to feel a gloved yet spit lubed finger invade my ass. First just one, then two and finally three. All in preparation for a black inflatable butt plug. Not inserted sympathetically by any manner. One full pump squeeze, then two. Here comes the third. Goddess turns me around and benevolently looks into my eyes.

“Spread your legs.”

She secures a soft black bondage rope around Her cock and balls and weaves it around my legs and waist in order for to secure the pump ball into my lower back.

Squeeze four, five, and six. Maybe i should smile more acutely at my plight.

Goddess purrs, “Perfect. Breakfast. Follow slave.”

my black shorts and tee shirt are nowhere to be found. i fall into line on Her left side just one step behind Her gate, naked except for steel chastity, black rope, hidden butt plug, and exposed ball pump. The first full day at the retreat has barely begun.

28 11 2015

sit meets his Goddess – Chapter 2: Shinny, solid and round …

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Chapter 2. Shinny, solid and round …

you don’t dare move. Goddess Ezada is hovering over you; She’s watching you.

your breath is shallow. you are frozen in place yet bubbling hot under your naked skin. A bead of perspiration pools off your right temple, running down the outside of your face. The slave waits in Her “waiting position.” Are my hands correct? Is my butt too low? Is my back too arched? Is She displeased?

you are waiting forever, then finally an unexpected touch descends directly onto the middle of your back and spine. Her hand? Her nails? No, it’s the leather trip of Her whip; the dragon’s tail that’s ripped so many skins wide open. All those pictures of all those slaves, in utter agony and here you are naked and defenseless. No where to run, no where to hide. you shutter in icy fear, this is the first time you have met Goddess Ezada and already is She going to tear into my flesh?

Goddess Ezada loves to whip; Goddess Ezada loves to cause pain. i close my eyes and silently beg to please Her, yet why is She punishing me so soon im the process? The leather is dragged sensually, down then up my undulating spine. i feel every centimeter of travel; i feel like a cat being scratched. i squirm on every different cell of contact She glides over. The dragon’s tail is brushed between my trembling shoulders and finally falls to rest just before my lips.

“Kiss the whip slave … !”

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you finally get to move Your head and comply. “Good boy.” Yet, you quickly recover to the waiting position and freeze again, with eyes closed.

The click of Her high heels on the marble floor, informs you that She is moving. Blindly you sense and feel every step Goddess Ezada takes. She comes to rest with both of Her feet inside your outstretched arms, inches from your head.

“slave, one gentle kiss on each tip of My shoes.”

“Oh gosh yes” you silently scream inside, yet your back and forceful exhalation completely tell Her the whole hidden story. Finally, i am worshipping the Woman i would die for. One kiss, each tip of Her shoe. i am so weak, so subjunctive, yet i crave this so.

She finally sits onto the supple black leather couch before me. my slave forehead has returned to the floor. This time the tip of Her long stiletto nail pokes under my chin as She raises my head upward. “Come here, kneel. Look at me slave.” my eyes rise slowly. Her tanned and muscular legs, a tight fitting red Nappa leather skirt, a soft black satin blouse, Her deep Feminine cleavage, Her proud neck, Her strong chin, Her luscious red lips, Her chiseled cheekbones, and finally Her piercing eyes.

i must remind myself to breathe, yet so little air rushes in. my chest and throat are frosted; Goddess has numbed me solid in my own tracks. i can only witness the deep dominant stare in Her eyes, while She scans right through my bones and every cell of my body.

“Inspection”

i immediately spread my legs to an inverted “V” and place both hands locked behind my head. Her eyes drift for the first time to the metal chastity hanging between my legs, and She laughs out loud. “Such a tiny worthless dick you have slave, so useless. How long has it been locked shut with no orgasm?”

i start to reply, but Goddess knows the answer all too well. Laughingly She retorts, “250 days with no orgasm, you are pathetic as a man, slave.” my eyes glaze over, knowing full well that She is correct. Being in such a short steel chastity, my dick has shriveled to just a fraction of it’s once proud manhood. She has purposely failed to allow me any orgasmic release in these last 36 weeks.

“slave, crawl over to the table and fetch.” i do, returning with a soft velveteen velour black satchel. i reverently hand Her the bag, and She smiles as i return to kneeling before this dominant force of nature.

She tenderly makes short work of the satin ribbon bow holding the satchel closed. Her hand reaches inside the bag and ever so slowly does She pulls out this brilliant shinny, round, sold stainless steel object. It glistens, even in the dim light of the midnight hour. She holds this piece up to Her face as my eyes again fix upon Hers.

“Collaring Position.”

Oh my gosh, i comply. “Come closer,” as i hear the point in the metal collar slide open and pull apart. She rests my head into the crease of Her leather clad skirt. my breath is moist and reflects off the rich scented skin that encases Her thighs. i must be dreaming, but the cold shiver of metal closing around my neck snaps me back to the reality i’m now living in.

The metallic closing sound is defeating to my ears, to my mind, to my soul. She adjusts the collar and tightens it in place using a special key that drapes around Her neck. Goddess Ezada is holding one other key there as well, the key to Her slave’s tiny stainless steel and gold titanium chastity. She now lifts my head up, not using my chin, only the solid stainless steel rod that sits boldly around my neck.

“Beautiful, stay slave.”

She reaches off to the side of the couch, and grabs two lengths of solid nylon black bondage rope. She binds my arms together tightly, then repeats the fettered knots on my lower legs. Goddess pushes me solidly onto my side right in front of the couch. The floor is cold yet my skin so alive and warm. She sympathetically places a pillow under my head, and turns away.

New sounds. A drawer opens; a raw metal chaffing and the drawer closes. Goddess leans over Her slave and locks one end of the hefty chain onto Her slaves new neck collar. The other is fixed around the entire end of the couch, and She locks it soundly as well.

Goddess again straddles my face with Her shoes. “Kiss.”

“Good boy, I trust you will sleep well here tonight. In the morning before I release your limbs, I shall ask for you one question, slave.”

“What did last night mean for you and the rest of your life?”

“I suggest you spend some time before falling asleep to contemplate your fate and then craft your response well.”

“Yes, Goddess,” are the only words i can seemingly mutter at this moment.

She smiles and walks seductively away. The sound of Her heels falls faint in the distance. The dim light bathing me suddenly turns black.

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21 11 2015

sit meets his Goddess – Chapter 1: your Arrival

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The Fear of Arrival …

The Torment of Departure …

Chapter 1: your Arrival

An hour before touchdown, your gut starts to rumble and roll, you realize this is real and there is no turning back.

you have lived your connection with the Goddess Ezada Sinn through the lens of a camera. you’ve professed devotion, yet She is only an image propped up on an altar. you’ve knelt and begged via cam; sill She sets several oceans away. you’ve locked up your manhood, yet kept a secret key.

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What you know as slavery, is in turn all but a fantasy and that fantasy will die.

you want this so badly, yet you hesitate to open the front gate. you reach the door, yet pause your finger millimeters before pushing the bell. you stand frozen in time, your blood pulses yet you can’t hear your own heart beat. you, the want-to-be slave must make a final choice, run away and live happily in your fantasy world, or step forward into the harsh light of Femdom reality.

you close your eyes, press the doorbell, heavily breathe out. your life will change, radically change. your life will crumble.

She has given you concise instructions, and you’ve memorized each one to a T.

you enter and strip naked, yet chastity remains attached and locked on.

you lay out on the table:

your gifts

your tribute

your clothes

your wallet

your passport

Goddess has illuminated the shower room where you have a scant 15 minutes to wash ands prepare. The towel is rough and course in weave, still your rub every inch of your skin to dry off. However you’re now sweating profusely, you are not amused. There is but one final command “go into the living room and assume the waiting position.”

All the items you placed on the table, just a few minutes before, have all disappeared. So where are you going to run now Mr. want-to-be slave? No clothes, no money, no identity, no life?

The reality is you don’t have that choice anymore. They only trail left before you is the pathway to obedience. There is nowhere you can run and hide. You lower your eyes and you walk forward. The dimly lit room contains one simple yet elegant black leather couch and a table with a coiled 4’ 16 plat red and black leather single tail snake whip and 18” split hinged heavy silver ring with a lock.

you decend, one knee down, then the other. you bend forward to child’s pose and extend into the “waiting position” with palms turned skyward.

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You breathe, you wait. you wait forever. your mind remembers Her blog “slaves require patience.” you wait some more. you silently repeat Her mantra of devotion while your mind races and rages.

A click from Her heel resonates on the cold marble floor; you shutter yet dare not move. Then a second, and a third, She stops. Even in the sparse light She can see your shallow and labored breath.

The Goddess Ezada Sinn pauses then finally speaks “slave.”

your fantasy just perished, it is slain and slaughtered.

The person you once knew as yourself, is dead.

you wait lifeless and extinct.

Only Ezada can bring you back.

Only Ezada Sinn can make you whole.

Only the Goddess Ezada Sinn can make you complete.

Story based on real life facts, written by My collared slave sit. To be continued…

15 11 2015

Triggers of devotion

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“I am a proud collared slave of the Goddess that I consider to be the world’s leading Female Supremacist, the amazing Mistress Ezada Sinn. My Mistress is my vocation in life and my life is full of physical reminders of Her glory. In my bedroom I have beautiful framed photographs so that my last image at night and my first image in the morning is of my Owner. Mental chastity, following Her on various social media outlets, reading Her blog, undertaking Her tasks and buying Her amazing clips are all physical means of showing devotion and a desire to serve the ultimate Mistress.

Through Her tasks Mistress also likes to create more subliminal triggers of devotion, submission and arousal. This is a real life story of a task She set me recently which serves perfectly to illustrate the subtlety of this point. Mistress instructed me to purchase 2 large tubs of Her favourite yogurt. By definition that same brand is now my favourite yogurt! I was instructed to pour some yogurt into a dog bowl, release myself from mental chastity, kneel and jerk off all over the the yogurt whilst watching one of Her clips. I then had to eat the mixture of yogurt and cum from the bowl like a dog until it was all consumed. This process was to be repeated on 5 occasions over a 2 weeks period.

Now every time I see that brand of yogurt, in a shop or in an advertisement and even when I am eating it normally it triggers in such a sublime way feelings of submission and arousal and of such deep devotion to my most incredible Owner. And I just know that those feelings and emotions will engulf me the next time I see Mistress eating yogurt. I imagine She will have a little smile to Herself knowing that the simple act of eating some yogurt is having such an effect on Her subject. Such is the wondrous power and control of the incredibly beautiful Mistress Ezada Sinn.”

From the training of My collared slave “licker len”

07 11 2015

How to pass through airport security check locked in a metal chastity device

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From My slave sit’s blog/personal experience. Take a look on his blog too, it’s worth it.

“As i have stated before Goddess Ezada Sinn prefers Her slaves to be locked in metal chastity. Actually, Her sit prefers the touch of steel as it reminds me of Her far more often than a bio-resin device will ever do.

Goddess sets the schedule of when the device get’s locked on and when it will be removed, usually by Her hand. Unfortunately, the slave lives across the pond while Goddess Ezada rests in Europe. So you have been instructed to fly locked, now what are you going to do? The following is my experience with TSA in the States. For the record Goddess has my neck locked in a stainless steel collar and chastity is titanium and stainless steel.

Let’s be clear here. The TSA has plainly stated that chastity devices ARE ALLOWED. you the slave, will NOT be removed from a flight because you are wearing one. No TSA agent will demand to cut your tiny little dick off in order for you to make your scheduled departure. TSA agents are professional and discreet, they’re just trying to do their job. The ones i actually have encountered, seem to exhibit no real interest in seeing what you have enclosed around your Owner’s property.

To begin you should proceed through the TSA security check procedure as you normally would, without raising any red flags. The collar i wear passed the micro scanner. The TSA agent said neck jewelry is passed regularly. Once you get flagged by the scanner for metal in your groin area, simply tell the TSA agent that you are “wearing body jewelry.” Do NOT drop your pants in public for them to look at you.

They might then have to do a “pat down inspection” in a private secluded area. Remember to keep your pants on. They will check by feel and then might have to swab you for trace particles, you know explosives or the like. That is standard procedure so don’t panic, dried pre-cum residue will pass undetected. Be polite and calm with them, as they want to finish their job so they can get back in line to work.

Keywords to remember:
• Proceed through security as you normally would
• Do not raise any red flags, on your own, before entering the scanner
• Don’t be combative with the TSA agents
• Use the phrase “I’m wearing a piece of body jewelry”
• Do not volunteer for a private inspection, wait for them to request one, you just might pass
• Keep your pants on while in private, TSA agents don’t care what your device looks like, unless they ask

The last think to keep in mind is to give yourself extra time, 10 to 15 minutes. Being later for your flight will not speed things up.

So slave you should have no fear, the next time Goddess Ezada Sinn sends you flying home without a key. Explaining it to your male friends at the gym will be far more dramatic and traumatic, trust me on that one.”

11 09 2015

Mantra in chastity

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“Supreme Goddess Ezada Sinn,
Your command was obeyed last night when i reached my flat. The CD was already on from the time i landed. Your words, as always, came like an electric shock to me, demanding my submission and obedience. i put on the collar and immediately fell prostrate before Your altar. The mantra automatically started spilling from my lips, and constant stream of devotion. Soon Your property felt the spikes of the walls of its cage and i worshipped You with deeper and deeper surrender as the pain grew.
Of course there is no release. Your law forbids it, and the cage ensures that Your law is obeyed. So the worship continued, my words submission and adoration pouring like a torrent from my mouth. Inside my head was a confusion of memories of Your eyes, Your boots, Your whip (of course Your whip), of drinking Your champagne, of humbly greeting You spread flat on the dungeon floor. You rule over me, my Goddess, with absolute power. i am totally Yours.
i am ready to serve You again this weekend, to prove my submission, to work for You and to try hard to please You.
Your humble, devoted and obedient slave, 79″

written by My slave 79

08 09 2015

A week-end as Mistress Ezada’s prisoner – by slave len

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This story was written by My collared slave, len, after we spent a week-end in Avalon Residentz, in Berlin, and describes real events. Pictures are selfies taken with My phone while My prisoner was waiting for Me in the darkness.

I first became aware of Mistress Ezada from Her time as a Mistress in OWK and just knew instinctively that She was the Mistress I wanted to serve. Many years later my dreams came true and I am now honoured to serve Her as one of Her collared slaves.

Although I never visited OWK I was always fascinated by its existence and had a particular interest in the underground prison and how slaves were kept there and the treatment meted out to them. When I first met Mistress Ezada we spoke about Her experience there and She told me all about the prison. I told Her I had always fantasised about being imprisoned by a beautiful Mistress. And rather intriguingly Mistress has recently written a blog post about imprisonment and what it means to Her.

Some time later Mistress told me about Avalon and it’s amazing facilities and arranged for me to attend there with Her as Her prisoner. And so it came to pass, much nervous excitement beforehand slowly turning to anxiety as the time approached. In my head was the old adage – be careful what you wish for.

Well all I would say is that this became one of the most amazing experiences of my life and has had such a profound effect on me. I thought my level of devotion to Mistress Ezada and desire to serve Her were high but after Avalon all my sensitivities and feelings have been raised to a new level.

Upon arrival I was despatched to fetch provisions for Mistress to make Her stay comfortable. As soon as I returned I was instructed to shower (the last such pleasure for a while) before being collared and fitted with my chastity device. Mistress then affixed a leash to my collar and led me on a tour of the facilities in this amazing place. A flight of stairs led to the underground chambers housing the interrogation room, torture chamber and prison cells. Mistress had assured me beforehand that these facilities, in particular the cells, were very similar to OWK. They also include an underground pit for serial offenders and a below ground sitting only pit.

To put things into perspective this is an underground environment with thick concrete walls and no natural light. By its nature it is completely soundproof, which means no noise coming in either, a fact I had not fully appreciated until I was encased in lonely isolated silence for hours and hours.

Mistress brought me first into the interrogation room and secured me into the interrogation chair where She put me through my paces, teasing my/Her cock and balls which were tightly locked away, spitting on me repeatedly, twisting my nipples painfully and slapping my face. She would have no problem interrogating the most hardened of slaves and the very thought of an extended interrogation was frightening.

Eventually She released me.

“Time to go to your cell, slave”

She led me to the cell. It was narrow, no more than 1.5 metres and about 2 metres deep with a low ceiling. There was a “bed” which was a thin piece of foam on a hard board and a bucket in the corner on the hard tiled floor. There was also an infra red camera which covered the entirety of the small cell and which was on at all times so that Mistress could check on me any time She wanted.

There were 2 other cells in the block but I did not know if they were occupied.

“In”

“Some simple rules slave. It is absolutely forbidden to communicate with any other prisoner. Any time I, any other Mistress or Guard enters this chamber you will immediately stand in the middle of the cell, head bowed. The bucket is your toilet. Memorise where it is, soon you will not be able to see it”

With that She smiled wickedly as She closed the door and padlocked it. I heard the sound of Her heels fade as She made Her way out. Off went the lights as I heard the heavy metal door at the entry to the chamber being locked shut.

Suddenly reality hit me. The darkness was engulfing and frightening. There was a dankness about the place and it was a little chilly. The silence was eerie, literally no sound. An outside world did not exist.

This was absolute isolation. Total helplessness. Humiliation. Degradation. And for Mistress total control and power. Imprisonment of the body and mind.

There is no sense of time. Minutes could be hours and vice versa. Senses are incredibly sharpened and whilst the ears strain for the slightest sound of hope the mind centres on just one thing – my beautiful Mistress. All that I can see in my mind is the image of my Mistress adorned in Her various amazing leather outfits. I imagine the smell of Her perfume and the aroma of Her leather. I think of Her in a room somewhere watching me on camera, pleasuring Herself at the thought of Her prisoners plight. Sleep is impossible with so many thoughts and images infiltrating and taking over my mind.

I jump as I hear the large metal door opening. Like an obedient puppy I quickly get into position, my heart beating like a wagging tail at the thought of seeing my Owner. Slowly the heels approach. The perfume and leather aroma reaches me first shortly followed by an image of leather clad dominant beauty. After slavishly kissing Her leather boot – it was such a heady relief to see Her – She addressed me.

“I am so aroused at the sight and thought of You down here as My prisoner. But I want more arousal and more orgasms so I am going to whip You” In Her right hand was Her Black Russian whip, one of Her favourites

Earlier in the day I had “earned” some whiplashes for some clumsy errors. She led me out of the cell into a large outdoor courtyard and fixed me into a pillary.

“I find outdoor whipping so much more arousing!”

“How many whiplashes have You earned”

“55 Mistress”

“Hmmmm” She seemed disappointed by the low number.

“Count each one and thank me”

By the time She got to 55 I was dancing uncontrollably. But relieved it was over and almost looking forward to going back to my cell to get away from the whip. What an odd emotion!

“I am not yet satisfied. 20 more”

I was hardly in position to object and squealed like a banshee as She delivered the strokes with much force.

She was purring with pleasure as She released me and led me back to the cell.

As I lay on the bed in the dark I reflected on the situation. She seems to derive so much pleasure from having me in this helpless situation. She might keep me here for ever. Nobody knows where I am. I could be lost forever. This could be a life sentence. These thoughts may seem irrational but when you are lying there in that bleak lonely environment so much goes through your mind that you cannot tell the difference.

All you do is hope and hope and hope to hear those heels again. Even though they mean more humiliation, degradation and suffering. Yet you want that suffering so much because it means contact with your Goddess. What a conundrum!

She had told me I would be very lonely and hungry. I had listened of course but not appreciated the extent of either. And then the heels again. Into position, head bowed, imaginary tail wagging.

A carton in Her hand suggested feeding time. In it some yogurt and bran flakes which She then topped up with with Her golden nectar in front of my eyes before mixing it slowly with a sadistic grin on Het face and feeding it to me until I had consumed every drop. It was totally humiliating yet I lapped it up like a puppy because I was so grateful for food. This is what I was reduced to in a short time as Her prisoner.

Later I was released and taken to the kitchens to prepare Her evening meal. I presented Her meal and knelt on the floor beside Her as She ate it. I was like a drooling dog beside Her watching Her eat. She eventually told me to fetch a small plate. She put the leftovers on a plate and “seasoned” them with large amounts of spit. She chewed up some bread and spat it out on to the plate. I ate it on the floor like a dog grateful for every morsel.

Having tidied up and given Mistress a foot massage I was taken back to the cell. As I left Her room I looked longingly at the big double bed that She would be sleeping in and maybe pleasuring Herself before doing so. An orgasm – what a thought! It could be a long long time before that ever happens for me but for my Mistress in this situation many many orgasms as I languish in my cold lonely prison cell.

“It will be a long night, slave”

Never a truer word spoken. Bleak darkness, total silence, racing mind and fitful sleep. In the midst of it all more reflection on the sheer helplessness I felt. But a feeling of deepening devotion towards my Mistress.

The next day, which was a long time coming, I had the humiliation of emptying my bucket of its contents as Mistress watched and then being exercised in the yard with Mistress cracking Her whip in encouragement.

I was taken to the playroom and secured on a hoist. Mistress removed my chastity device and teased me relentlessly. My/Her cock wept with frustration as She continually brought me to the edge reminding me over and over of the multiple orgasms She had enjoyed and I would not be having any. I hung there with the now familiar joyful smells of Her perfume and leather as my/Her cock almost exploded. Sheer torture.

Back in the cell and back in chastity having prepared Her breakfast and again being fed leftovers I reflected on the fact that I was simply a puppy, a toy, a plaything for Mistress’s pleasure. But despite my feelings and the dark despair of that cell I somehow felt uplifted at the thought of providing my Mistress that pleasure by my suffering. True submissive feelings. A willingness and desire to please the world’s most beautiful Goddess.

If it can be called such, a sort of routine followed of solitude, pain and suffering and service. On the second day Mistress delivered a most brutal whipping, the fiercest I have ever endured. She lashed me hard with Her Black Russian whip starting with my ass until I was yelping and dancing like Michael Jackson with 2 left feet. And the She came around in front of me and looked me in the eye as She concentrated on my back. She was moaning with more and more pleasure as each painful lash landed, She was clearly in a highly aroused state. Oh how I wanted to take that pain for Her. Seeing Her pleasure and arousal was amazing. She then changed to Her whip with the metal tipped tails and flayed my ass mercilessly until it bled. I hung limply from the bar, my whole body ablaze. She released me and drew me to Her. She looked me in the eye “good boy,I am pleased with you”

Those words were music to my ears as I dropped to my knees and lavished such sincere kisses on Her boots.

That night proved to be the last of my imprisonment. I have thought of little else since then. A truly amazing and spectacular experience, an emotional roller coaster ranging from loneliness, hunger and despair to the sheer indescribable joy of hearing Her high heels approaching!

It is an experience I will never forget and it has undoubtedly forged a stronger bond between Us/us and enhanced my desire to please Her, to suffer for Her pleasure and to serve Her forever. The amazing Mistress Ezada.

03 09 2015

An unforgettable Domina kiss under the moonlight of Budapest

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After a nice dinner in the center of Budapest, we are walking on the river of Danube, on the way to the Parliament. The weather was very clear and the sky full of stars during this spring night.

Suddenly, My Mistress stopped and with Her sweet voice told me:

“slave, you will be My pony boy this evening. you must carry Me on your back to the hotel”.

We are located at 500 meters of the building. It was my first time and I was a little bit anxious not to disappoint Her. I carry my Goddess on my back, not on my shoulders. I am not allowed to do it. I understand, it could be very dangerous and for nothing on earth, I will put my Mistress in danger. However I hope to have this chance one day. I have to be trained hard, to be stronger for that. I find it very erotic and dominant.

When you are a pony, Your Goddess dominates the world on your shoulders. She is above you, show Her natural power without any effort. You feel the weight and supremacy of Your Goddess. And the most important, you stay linked to Your owner all the time.

I walk slowly until the left aisle of the Parliament. I was happy to be able to do it for my first time. When we arrive at this location, there is a loving couple, around mid thirties. Unfortunately I was too slow for my Goddess. She dismounted me and said:

“Present balls, slave!”

I execute myself and spread my legs to give a big access to my balls at my Empress. She is wearing black riding boots, so very strong and efficient for this job. She gives me a first kick very hard. Despite the fact that I kept my clothes, I could feel intense pain, especially when I start to have a hard-on. Probably owing to the sadistic thoughts of my goddess that I could read into Her unique eyes. She continues to kick me harder and harder. The couple stops kissing. They were in my back but I could hear the Woman laughing. My Mistress continues to kick me. When I can’t support the kick, I fall on the ground, my Mistress said instantly and firmly:

“Get up, keep the position, useless slave. I want to destroy your balls, My balls (!), to show you that next time you will carry Me faster.”

The two last kicks were so painful because they hurt also the tip of my cock. I fall on the ground.

My Mistress said “Kiss my boots, useless piece of shit” and She put Her other boot with conviction on my head.

I remember that the man was speechless and afraid but the Woman looks amazed. I filed a loving kiss on each boot of my Owner. It was a kiss with a lot of devotion, a kiss with more love than our “neighbors”, the romantic couple.

“Open, Domina Kiss” told me my Mistress

She spits in My mouth. It was a great reward and exchange of love. It was very sensual. The spit passed as slowly as possible from Her Mouth to finish in mine. So They could admire what is a deep complicity, tenderness and love. A true love!

Finally My Mistress order me to get up and we finished our night walk.

I will always remember, when we are leaving the place, that the man tried to take the hand of His Lady but she pushed him. I am pretty sure that she asked him to kneel down when we left the place.

We are born to kneel in front of our Empress, to be used and abused everywhere just for their pleasure. Mistress Ezada Sinn loves to show at everybody that the best place for a man in under the total control of the Woman.

I am very proud to help my Goddess to convince every Lady that a man is useful only under the Female Supremacy. Nothing is more wonderful than to discontinue definitively all under the rule of Mistress Ezada Sinn.

purcelus, property of Mistress Ezada Sinn

26 07 2015

How a slave pleases Me

Ezada Femdom lifestyle stories first BDSM session, free session, sissy training 6

Potential devotee, you might have served other Dominant Females formerly, and consider yourself an experienced slave. However, this alone does not guarantee you will intrinsically know what it takes to please Me. Conversely, you might be one of limited, or even no experience in serving a Dominant Female Mistress.

Listen closely, the following truth is one you must come to understand and put into practice when serving me in any capacity. One quality of primary importance to Me, is your “willingness to please Me.”

If that statement did not sink in and ring your mental bell, I strongly suggest you reread, come to understand, and remember what I’ve just said.

your “willingness to please Me,” is Paramount!

Follow the case in point I am showing you here. The submissive you witness, earned the privilege of a private session with Me, as he won the award of “best slave” at My recent Femdom Extravaganza event. he is very new to BDSM; it’s been just 2 scant months since he first dipped his toes into the Femdom pool. Yet, even being such an inexperienced slave, he perfectly managed to satisfy Me during O/our time together.

How?

Simply, he managed to appease Me quite well by being open to, and then happy performing every task I imposed upon him. Yes, he exemplified a willingness to please Me.

Voluntarily, he allowed Me to transform him into My sissy slut. Diligently, he attempted to walk properly in high heels. Without reluctance, he trained to suck and take My dildo up his virgin ass after receiving a fine spanking.

Because of his readiness and desire to please Me, in the end he was allowed to lick My latex clad ass. Following I granted him permission to cum inside his new chastity cage, a present I offered him because of his exemplary, submissive posturing in O/our first ever session.

I shall feature his devotion, in some clips filmed during this session that shall be released soon on My clips4sale store.

Again for your benefit potential devotee, let Me clearly state. It is your willing desire, and sequential acts to please Me that matter monumentally in My assessment of your worth as a potential slave in My domain.