You worship and adore Us, the Romanian Goddesses that rule your fantasies, but your adoration is not enough. you must know Us, Our traditions and how We spend Our holidays with the chattels who have dedicated their lives to Us. Who knows, maybe next year you will win the chance to serve Goddess Ezada Sinn, Lady Yna, Mistress Kenya and Miss Sarah, but for that to happen read, watch and learn about Our traditions.
Capra (the goat) is a dance that represents the “dying” of the old year and “birth” on the new one. The goat’s dance forecasts how wealthy the coming year will be. Our “goats” have to dance hard because the Goddesses want a plentiful year. We see that Our flogger stimulate the sissy-goats to dance as diligently as they can.
The Ignat is one of the most important weeks in Romanian winter culture, it is the time when We fatten up and smoke Our pigs for the Holiday feast. Of course Our FemDom views influence this greatly as all food should be consumed from the floor, crushed by Our boots and designer shoes, all the smoking of the meat is done by brandy infused cigars and the smoke will tenderise it perfectly. All the humiliation is just a bonus, a gift from Your Romanian Goddesses.
The St Nicholas is one of the most important days in Romanian winter culture, it is the time We receive presents in Our boots, but the boots and shoes must be really clean so a slave tongue is perfect to prepare them for the presents you will send us this year.
Sorcova is a Romanian popular custom, practiced on 1st January. sorcova playing the role of a magic wand, endowed with the ability to transmit health, youth and fertility to the vised one; verses are very suggestive in this regard. The text of sorcova, reminiscent of a spell, merely reinforces the movement of sorcova. Us the Romanian Goddesses have the magical powers to cast this spell on you and once touched with the cane you sure will have health, luck and richness in the New Year.
Buy all the clips from this collection from Our clip stores. Unique chance to prove yourself worthy to participate to Our next traditional parties (more details in the videos).
My American collared slave sit is visiting Me. This is written by him, right after I used him one evening. Oh, how I love the way he is serving Me…
“my chest is still wet from Goddess Ezada’s spit, so too is the raging cock inside Her metal cage. My entire front side body; head, neck, chest, torso, pelvis, arms and legs are damp moist from an unadulterated dousing of Goddess’s sacred champagne.
Out of nowhere She, suddenly dragged me from Her living room into Her bedroom. With Her the tables turn fast, conversation one moment before, then shockingly the next i am on my knees worshiping Her pungent and gamy pantyhose. The entire day of Her toils seeps out through the shear and shimmering nylon. Still, Goddess Ezada is no where near satisfied with such humdrum adoration. i am ordered to strip quickly naked and placed into “doormat” position on the rug before Her.
Goddess towers above me, now naked from dress down. The room is dimly lit by a singular red lamp, softly accented with the leverage of blood. There is no choice or weight of decision on my part here, i am Her disposed toy, a mere object for Her pleasure. Without warning white thick drops start to fall from above.
Her spit rains down on my forehead, into my mouth, onto my chest, and belly button. She slathers it around, Her sacred saliva clings to my naked skin. Its taste bares focus of Her day, Her lunch, Her dinner, Her coffee, Her wine. The personality of Her split remains unique and utterly impressionable. She stands so far above me, in the darkened room, yet Her eyes burn into mine. Goddess takes to aim and moments later Her spit oozes into the vents of Her steel cased chastity. i feel it trickle down inside the steel, over the rigid shaft of Her imprisoned cock.
Goddess lurches violently forward, sitting absolutely square upon my face. sit’s tongue is commanded to seek and find Her holy rectum, Her sacred anus. i am being used as nothing more than Her personal bidet. Maybe this is training for what could occur next week? More than likely Goddess is just taking the pleasure She wants and so rightly deserves, right here, right now.
i am lost in the chocolate fragrance lodged inside Her puckered rim. i suck, and lick deeply for every morsel and anal odor i can muster. i am driven mad; you could kill me now with no regrets. Still, this ritual is far from finished. Without warning warm yellow liquid droplets drizzle down over my forehead, flushing clean my eyes. I am marked, and Goddess is now wildly laughing at my plight.
With only one, flat palm Goddess forcibly soils my entire stunned face. She quickly moves back further down my chest. Her golden champagne splashes freely against my heart and sternum. With positive glee Goddess smears Her nectar right and left across Her property’s torso. Her right hand tightly finishes by encompassing and forcibly squeezing my exposed throat. She rocks my head convincingly backwards, Her lips snarl; Her eyes widen as She perches inches above my soaked face.
In demonic cadence, She expounds.
“you belong to Me now.”
“I own you totally sit.”
“There is no other way.”
i am frozen unable to move as She lowers Herself slithering down Her prey’s body. Goddess hovers over Her prize chastity cage, opened only by the jeweled key strung round Her neck. The intent which She dominates me is laden with power like never before.
“This belongs to me.”
Her nectar no longer warm but torridly hot splashes down over the cage that brings Her joy of proprietorship. Goddess is not kind in touch as She rubs Her juices into her slave’s testicles and pubic skin. Still, the One who controls me is not satisfied and fulfilled yet. With animalistic rage and resolve She repeats every single marking again over my rigid prone frame. Simultaneously She laughs and sneers, all the while She’s permanently etching Her name into my flesh and soul.
Goddess finishes standing over me, panting as heavily as i. The carpet around us is wet with Her discharge and Our/our sweat. Never before have i felt so owned, so taken, so possessed. She however appears elated and blissful. The roundness in Her eyes is wide, Her lips slightly open, and moist.
“slave, you will not rinse out your mouth nor shall you wash a single drop of Me off your body till I grant you permission tomorrow in the morning. Do you understand?”
i need no words to respond “Yes.” i am commanded to stand.
“I want you to write me a blog about this tonight while it is fresh in your mind.” Goddess hands me a soiled black cotton panty. This is the only garment you will wear till I give you permission to clean yourself. “Now leave my bedroom and get started My pet.”
It’s 3am, and Her property is sitting on the couch, typing, cold, semi-naked, emasculated and totally eviscerated. What started maybe as simple play has turned into a profound cast of Her Female dominance over my soul. i crawl into bed forever marked, forever changed.”
I took no pictures during the play but the pictures published on this post were taken durin sit’s visit.
On the third day of sit‘s visit (before allowing him his first release after 436 days of chastity) I am allowing him to enter a special and sacred room in My home: the bedroom. My poor slave has been chaste far longer than any of My slaves before, 436 days without a release. His pathetic balls are so brilliantly blue in color, so full of cum, and here I tower over this puny creature in 9″ heels, wearing a see-through catsuit and black patent leather corset. his tiny dicklet is so aroused, so hard, yet I am going to teach it and sit a lesson. This cock and balls belong to Me and Me alone. For the rest of his life, sit shall only be allowed pleasure and release when controlled by his Goddess’s hand. I love to hear him beg, whine, and plead in vain. his cock is so sensitive that any touch causes him to squirm and writhe about in desire and in pain. The ultimate game of Tease and Denial, pure pleasure for Me, pure torture for sit.
“A wise slave learns to never assume, at best we react only to Goddess Ezada Sinn’s wishes and desires, Stapana’s directives and cravings. She is the only One who defines the path slaves ultimately must choose to follow and obey.
Stapana Ezada extends to us the portage of slavery and the ones who worship Her remain totally at the mercy and directive of Her whim. Yes, i fear Her whip, Her wrath when i fail, Her use of long term orgasm control and chastity, and i utterly fear displeasing Her to a point where i am dismissed forever. Still, the more robust my obedience, the absolute my surrender, and capitulation to Her will, oh those actions boil forth outright consummate euphoria within my slave heart and soul.
In Her presence as morning begins, crawling to Her feet with coffee in hand, my eyes remain focused downward. Being allowed to greet such a human Goddess by placing a reverent kiss on the tender arch of each foot and then caressing Her sole with the skin of my facial cheek, pure heaven. What was once a dream is now transformed into a solemn daily ritual to start each day. I legitimately question if slaves are allowed to scream for joy in front of their Owners, or does the story of my jubilation adequately seep out from my eyes to Hers?
Stapana’s big toe astutely hooks my slave collar, plugging me closer till Her finger gains full control over my tilted neck. i am jerked within inches of Her lips, and the stream from Her balmy breath moistens the thick air between us. “Good morning sit,” audibly coats my eyes causing them to solidly shut tight. my hunger to scream impossible, as i’m incapable of any immediate breath. With just three words, Goddess has sliced open and exposed the submissive weakness of my soul. The power of my male will is again raped and stripped barren.
However in moments soon to be, i kneel in waiting position before Stapana in the presence of Her dear friend Mistress Evilyne. Goddess is holding in Her hands a contract, an Ownership Contact that She is offering to me. Our deeds and actions showcase purpose and goal, but for human kind it is the written contract, one sealed by signature, which remains a finalized and cast in stone agreement. The weight and reality of this moment stun. i feel suspended off the floor, not connected to my feet given the gravity of what She is extending to me. Seconds in time become frozen as She drops the multi page document to the ground just inches in front of my bowed head.
“Slave I want you to read the Ownership Contact out loud so Mistress Evilyne can bare witness. She understands the importance of ownership and what a contact such as this ultimately means.” The name Stapana has bestowed upon me is penned in thick black, it is the only name that matters to Her from here forward. The topic points are magnified in bold font style. The definitions of each are explained in clarifying directness.
Stapana codifies who We/we are, the purpose of the contact and most importantly the Symbols of Ownership She has placed on me. The outward symbols that reflect Her control and my chosen lifestyle to belong exclusively to Her and Her alone. my Duties of Servitude, my Expenditures, my Allowance, my Exclusions are all listed. This contact is formed in such a manner that Goddess can easily modify any of the points She wishes. Stapana makes it very clear that She will modify the contract over time to fit Her liking.
The section entitled Obligations is laden with 13 heavily worded definitions. The first is about Her obligations, the remaining twelve begin in kind: slave hereby acknowledges; slave shall address; slave shall be; respect includes; slave shall not; slave shall remain; slave shall pay full attention; slave shall sit, stand, walk, kneel, and lie where and when; slave shall not remove; slave shall dress as; friends and relative of Owner will be; respect and obedience are the two most important; failure will be punished.
However within one definition lays a weakness that will trap me in my duties and lead to pain. my command of the Romanian language is nil to the point of being absurd. The simple pronunciation of “Stapana” will highlight my faults and short comings. The strike of Her signal whip rains down on my backside with dissatisfied impatience. Goddess Ezada is more than unhappy with me, and i cannot correct my mistake given chances by both Her and Mistress Evilyne. Fifty whip lashes shall be administered while i am still tasked with the job of plainly reading the remaining contract points for Mistress Evilyne.
This whip is new, unbroken, its marks not pitted from the cracker but instead the stiff leather sows long red solid welts from the yet rigid shaft of the whip maker’s 16 plait weave. The whip does not need to crack to inflict pain, it slices the air more like an arrow breaking wind as it flies past. Her repeated lashes speed up the cadence at which sit speaks. At times my words become garbled, impossible to understand. Time and time again Goddess Ezada and Mistress Evilyne pull me back on task, while the whip, over and over dive me off onto the submissive ditch of the road.
my eyes are streaming tears when i’ve finished the final thirteenth point. Stapana and i pen Our/our names in heavy felt tip black, yet She is still obsessed with the need of redder ink to secure my signature. Goddess will extract my DNA, my blood to seal my mark. With eight final full strength whip lashes, my backside skin splays wide open and She harvests slave blood to complete the signing.
The contact pages are tossed freely to the floor and Goddess retorts in full vibrato to “Kiss My name slave.” In all my slave years i’ve kissed images of, shown respect for a Ladies whip, Her shoe, Her boots, Her cock, Her garment, the ground She walks on, and Her hand. Yet never have i been commanded to kiss the signature of Her name.
This mere act burns indelible into my psyche. The words have been written, the signatures attached, my life-force extracted, and the solemn act of an Ownership Contact, enforceable and in place. Every time i bow in the flesh before The One who owns me, i am pulled intensely by Her acts. Willingly and unexpectedly seduced to even deeper levels of submission that can only lead to one concrete destination. Total slavery under the Goddess Ezada Sinn. Maybe there is a chance that my life, a life of a slave will find true purpose. Yes, i am blessed and there are signed words which help reminds me of that joyous fact. That i am the realized and bound property of the One who contractually owns me.
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