Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

"Strict Leather Hogtie" I am blessed to have the opportunity to play with bondage-loving perverts from all over the world. The people who seek me out to play (whether it’s on-camera with a select few, or in a private session with most) generally enjoy bondage quite a lot. However, within that group of bondage-enjoying people, there is a smaller group of bondage fanatics - people for whom intense bondage is a core need to feel fully alive. These bondage fanatics generally enjoy very tight, very restrictive, very intense bondage. At times they can be insatiable, but generally they are simply most satisfied when bound. Thorben is one of these beautiful bondage fanatics. He is the kind of fanatic that has multiple pieces of complex metal bondage gear designed and made perfectly for his body for maximum restraint. He cannot get enough. Since this was the first time he and I met, I wanted to start with a simple scene that would show me how much of a bondage slut he really was - a hogtie. Hogties are a wonderful way of determining a person’s willingness and desire to suffer - as long as there are no major issues, a bondage slut will discover micro movements that promote circulation, comfort and sustainability within their restraints. After lacing a tight leather hood on Thorben’s head and layering it with a leather head harness, I tightly lace up each of his feet into knee-high ballet boots. After Thorben gracefully makes his way onto the Fuck Cart, where I fold and secure each of his legs and waist with a thick leather strap. Thorben is very flexible, and therefore it was a pleasure to slip his arms into a leather arm binder behind his back, lacing it up as tight as it goes. To create added stress, I tie Thorben’s head harness to the top of the cart, pulling his head and shoulders back into an arch. Thorben, being the bondage slut that he is, was already signaling to me to tie up his arms (as if I wasn’t going to do that anyway!), and after pulling his wrists high up behind him, he was truly satisfied. Although bondage is the main course of this scene, I added a bit of electro play to truly signal to him that he is helpless. A medium-sized electro ass plug was stuffed into his hole, while his tightly-tied balls and cock were electrified with two small metal loops. Not only was Thorben in this very restrictive bondage for quite some time, but he had a constant boner that signaled to me that what I have here is a certifiable bondage fanatic :) After teasing Thorben with my hands for some time, I stroke him off to a pretty major orgasm, culminating in a huge blown load. This scene really set the stage for Thorben and I to explore other scenes that only a bondage fanatic could enjoy :) Nice meeting you, Thorben, we will be good friends!

Heart-Shaped Box

“Wow, this is so nice! I’m so impressed, cutie!” your babysitter said, “Did you set this all up by yourself without your Mommy helping?”

Your heart sank. All you wanted was to show Claire you weren’t a baby—you were an adult!

Claire was your newest babysitter, though you hated that term. You were so sick of these babysitters seeing you as nothing but an overgrown toddler.

So, you were determined to break the cycle with Claire. Determined to show her you were a man. And what better way to do that than a picnic date?

Sure, Mommy helped you prepare the picnic. You needed her help putting things together.

And sure, there were some setbacks to your plan. Like the messy diaper change lesson Mommy gave Claire the first day you met her. And then you listened to Mommy tell Claire all about your infantile rules and needs right in front of you.

But it didn’t matter. You’d prove to Claire you were more than some adorable, helpless pamper packer. She was so beautiful. So cool.

You had to show her you were an equal.

“You know, I’m not some helpless baby, Claire. I’m two years older than you. I can handle myself!” you said confidently.

Claire stared at you for what seemed an eternity, clearly bemused. You could tell she was searching for the right words.

She sighs deeply. “Look, Benny, don’t make this weird. This is nothing more than a fun activity with your babysitter, okay? This is not a date.”

You were prepared for this; you already practiced the perfect response. “Then why did you agree to a picnic with me? Babysitters don’t go on romantic picnics, do they?”

“Romantic? Do you really think this is romantic? Sweetie, there is nothing romantic about this! I’m not here because I’m interested in you. You know that, right? Your Mommy is paying me to be here!”

“Who cares!” you retort, brushing off her comments, “You agreed to the picnic! Obviously, you want to be here. If all you wanted to do was “babysit” then why didn’t we stay home?”

“Fine,” she hissed, “If this is how you’re going to act, then I wont feel bad telling you the truth. Want to know why I agreed? Because I pitied you. You’re 26 but you live like a toddler! I mean, come on, dude! You’re in diapers and have a Mommy!”

“But that’s just…pretend! It’s not real! I’m not an actual toddler.”

Claire laughs wildly. “Not real? Seriously? That diaper between your legs is real. The poop your Mommy wiped off your tush was definitely real. The money your Mommy is paying me is real. The list of rules and punishments I was given are real. You are a real toddler to me!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you whine.

“Honey, I don’t care what you meant. Did you honestly believe I could see you as anything else? I watched your Mommy lay you on a changing table in nothing but a poopy diaper, rip open your diaper, wipe your poop off you, sprinkle baby powder, and put you in a new diaper.”

“The whole time,” she continued, “You sucked on a paci and giggled when your Mommy told you were her ‘perfect little pamper packer.’ You squealed—literally squealed in delight—when your Mommy blew raspberries on your tummy. And then thanked your Mommy for the clean diaper.”

“I have never seen anything that pathetically adorable in my life. I cannot fathom anything less sexually attractive than that. Don’t get me wrong—it was adorable—but adorable in an ‘awwww, how precious!’ way. The only thing difference between you and a toddler is your size.”

“So, no, sweetie. This is not romantic. It’s sweet and thoughtful, yes. But in the same way a toddler I’m babysitting brings me a dandelion he picked. You’re the sweet toddler handing me a dandelion. I’ll coo and tell you I love this, just like I’d tell that toddler. But I would never, ever, consider it romantic.”

She stopped as suddenly as she started. Her words hung in the air.

“Oh, honey,” she said, rubbing your shoulder, “Don’t pout! I didn’t mean to be mean! I just wanted to be honest. Our time together will be much more enjoyable when you accept that I am your babysitter and you are the baby. Nothing more, okay?”

You try to say something. Anything to save your dignity. “B-but…”

“No buts, little one. All I want to hear from you is ‘Yes, Miss Claire!’ Got it?”

You feel your face burning in shame. “Y-yes, Miss Claire…”

“Good boy!” she cheers, “Now, let’s forget all about that, okay?”

“O-okay, Miss Claire.”

“What a cutie! Now, let’s see what your Mommy packed to eat!”

Claire opens the picnic basket, pulling out its contents. “Oh, look! Peanut butter and jelly sammies!”

“I helped make it!” you said proudly.

“Wow! Mommy’s little chef huh?”

Claire handed you a sandwich. You both ate excitedly, with Claire assuring you it was the best PB & J she’s ever had in her life.

“What do you wanna do now, cutie?” Claire asked sweetly.

As you looked up at her, all you could think about was how beautiful she was.

“Ummm,” you mumble.

“Oh, look!” Claire interrupted, “Your Mommy packed us some cake! Want some?”

“Yes please!” you answer, reaching out for the plate of cake.

As you do, a loud toot breaks the silence. Your eyes go wide in terror as you feel the unmistakable churn of your tummy.

“Uh oh!” Claire says, “Do you have a rumbly tummy, Benny?”

Your body answers for you. You grunt loudly as you push, leaning forward unconsciously to better aid the process. You feel the first wave of mess fill your diaper.

You can feel Claire staring at you. You know you’re proving her right—you’re exactly what she said you were.

“Don’t worry, Benny! Just push!” Claire says, rubbing your back, “Push all the stinkies into your diaper. That’s what it’s there for. I have everything I need to change you when you finish.”

You continue to push, struggling to empty your tummy. Finally, with one last grunt, it’s over.

“All done, Benny?” Claire coos.

“M-mhm,” you answer sheepishly.

“Benny, don’t be embarrassed! I know you can’t help it! That’s why I’m here! I’m your babysitter! And babysitters take care of poopy diapers!”

You don’t answer, face burning red.

“Oh, come here, honey,” Claire says, pointing to the changing pat laid out, “Lay down and Miss Claire will get you alllll clean!”

You obey her, feeling your mess smush against the ground.

“What did I say, Mister?” Claire said in a mock angry voice, “Don’t pout over poopy diapers or I’m gonna—” Claire starts before pulling up your shirt and blowing a series of raspberries on your tummy, “Gonna give you the giggles!”

Claire blows more raspberries. Despite every fiber of your pride resisting, you giggle. Slowly at first. But as she blows a loud raspberry, tickling your sides, you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“There’s my happy boy!” Claire says triumphantly, “Now let’s get you out of this icky diaper!”

Countdown To a New Year

Happy New Years everybody!

Well the Christmas holiday is over and my husband is back at work. It was a quiet holiday season this year due to covid and my daughter being unable to come home for the holidays because of her work schedule.

Last year, when my daughter did come home, we decided to turn the kink down during the holidays. This year, being just the two of us and anticipating boredom, I cranked it up instead to create our own fun.

My husband had an entire week off, so the moment he came home from work for the holidays, I took charge completely. I greeted him at the door, gave him a passionate kiss, and held out our all rubber ballgag in front of him. When I do this he knows to swallow and then open his mouth wide, so that I can force the ball past his teeth, then I buckle the straps.

I forcefully stripped his clothes off, and then sat down on a chair I had placed just inside the door. He knew what he had to do. He bent over my lap and received his weekly maintenance spanking. The holidays were off to a good start and I sent him to have a shower still gagged, while I finished making supper. That meal he ate from his dog dish on the floor without using his hands, something I haven’t made him do in almost a month.

Later in the evening, I chained him standing spread eagle. I put some of my favorite music on, poured myself a glass of wine, and taking my time, shaved his entire body free of hair. Since I planned to keep him confined to home for the entire holiday, I decided to severely limit his masculinity, as nobody else would be seeing him anyway.

Earlier in the day, I had painted my fingernails and toenails in a candy cane motif, red and white diagonal stripes, and now I painted his fingernails and toenails to match mine. Other than going outside for snow removal, I kept him in his softest and prettiest pyjamas all week.

Christmas morning we video called our daughter and talked for a while. Since he was wearing his sexy red satin pyjamas, I let him cover then up with his robe for the call, but he had to keep his pretty painted fingernails out of sight.

We shared a lovely meal at suppertime and later in the evening we opened presents. Along with more vanilla gifts, he bought me an arm binder I’ve wanted for a while now to lock his arms folded together behind his back. I wanted it to keep him helpless while he suckles my breasts.

I bought him a set of fistmitts and matching booties that lock on with Segufix locks, and he slept every night locked in them. The booties have spikes in the base to ensure he can’t stand up in them. I had made something similar myself but these are much nicer than the homemade ones and I was happy to be able to throw them away.

I also bought him a pair of steel locking bracelets, the kind that need a hex key to remove. Instead of locking one on each wrist, I put them both on his right wrist, so as they rattle against each other, he has a new audible reminder that he is my property. At night I wrapped a ribbon around both to silence them for sleeping. They remained locked onto his wrist until he went back to work.

A couple of hours before bed, I put the armbinder on him and made him suckle me. It worked very well for keeping him helpless in my arms, but I really have to watch that I don’t suffocate him with my large breasts, as with no arms he can’t push himself away from me. It’s a nice new and intimate way for us to do breath play though.

On Boxing Day, I decided to do another Intoxicated Interrogation. It has been many months since we did it last time, so I wanted to get into his head. In the evening I fed him alcoholic drinks with his baby bottles until he was quite drunk to loosen his tongue, and then I started a discussion about our kinky games.

This time when I questioned him, I discovered he knew just how much I really enjoy caning him, something that I thought I had kept secret from him by hooding him everytime. He slurred to me that he was seriously thinking about breaking one of my zero tolerance rules, sacrificing himself just so I could enjoy the experience of caning him again. He said that he hates being caned, as it hurts like hell, but the fear and anticipation of it was very exciting to him. He also loved the idea of suffering for my pleasure, knowing how much I enjoyed it.

I truly wanted to cane him again, but I promised myself to never punish him without him earning it. Also, I didn’t want him to break one of our zero tolerance rules just to make it happen. When he breaks a zero tolerance rule, he is breaking a promise to me and that is the reason I cane him. We talked further and when I decided that I wouldn’t get any more useful information out of him, I locked him in his kennel to sleep for the night.

The Intoxicated Interrogation was a partial failure. Sure, I got some useful information from him that night, but I was too cautious and didn’t feed him enough alcohol. He remembered our conversation the next day, and we ended up discussing it again.

He promised me that he would be perfectly obedient for the rest of the year and asked me to promise to cane him if he failed me. If I agreed, all it would take is one small act of disobedience, and he would be caned for it.

Then we came up with the idea of conducting a ‘year in review’ on New Years Eve, with the final punishment during the 10 second coundown to the new year. We discussed it and once I was sure he really wanted this, I finally agreed and promised I would follow through. I suggested using the punishment strap instead as it is just as exciting to use as the cane but less harsh on him. It wouldn’t work as good though, as I would have to use the cane to be able to swing fast enough to keep up with the countdown.

On the day before New Years Eve, He spent the afternoon locked in his kennel going over his journal and summarizing it, and wrote out all of the times in the last year he was disobedient, with the resulting punishments. This he would read out to me on New Years Eve, as our year in review.

At noon on New Years Eve, he finally broke his promise of perfect obedience. By saying he loved me when he was commanded to remain silent, he sealed his fate.

We carried the spanking bench out to the livingroom, to get it ready for the evenings festivities, and its presence helped us anticipate what was to come. I could sense how nervous he was, really feeling dread over the last few hours, and it made him so meek and submissive. Seeing him like this enhanced my own building excitement.

In the evening, after pouring me a glass of wine, he started our year in review by reading me the summary, and at ten to midnight, he stripped naked. He clipped his ankles to the front of the bench, bent over, reaching forward, and clipped his wrist cuffs to the ring holding him firmly in place.

I walked around to the head end of the spanking bench, forced him to look up at me and passionately kissed him. This was the first time he would be caned without wearing the isolation hood. I blindfolded and gagged him, but he could hear everything. I stripped myself naked, as usual.

With a minute to spare before it started, I turned up the television to make sure the countdown would be loud and clear. “With this caning, I hereby forgive you for all past transgressions. I love you,” I proclaimed. I gave the cane a few swishes in the air, knowing he would hear it, adding to the tension.

It was time. The countdown started and I started swinging, keeping in time with the count. TEN, NINE, EIGHT. By the third stroke he was moaning loudly into the gag. SEVEN, SIX, FIVE. As he climbed the pain ladder during his descent into hell, his wailing got much louder. FOUR, THREE, TWO. My other hand was working furiously between my legs and I came hard, a little too soon.

In the end, I’m not sure who screamed louder. The last stroke, which I planned to put a little extra effort into, ended up barely tapping him as I completely lost focus. When I regained control of myself, I unclipped him from the spanking bench. I removed his blindfold and gag, led him to the sofa, and put him to my breast to suckle for some loving aftercare.

The next day, as he laid at my feet and licked my patent leather ballet flats, he promised perfect obedience for the next year, proclaiming that I deserved nothing less. I promised to enforce it. I’ll get the timing of my orgasm right next year.

Bark Bark!

"Aww you don't want to be my little slave slut? But you look so cute when you squirm. I cannot wait to destroy you."