A brief introduction is in order; Mistress Alison is a good friend and a very knowledgeable and experienced Mistress, she has also been a frequent contributor to PDQ. She is now available to answer questions from both Mistress and sissies alike, assuming a respectful tone of course. These email conversations may well be included at some future date in PDQ though a request for privacy would be respected. Feel free to write her at email@example.com and please don't waste her valuable time asking "where / how can I find a Mistress?"
Dear Mistress Alison
My once girlfriend and I have been in a fairly Domme / sub ish relationship since November 2014. Originally it was my suggestion, made almost as a joke, that she should get me a chastity device to wear when she had to go away on business trips, but soon both of us began to take it more seriously and I've been locked in chastity pretty much ever since. Counter intuitively it has actually made sex better, as I'm only unlocked when she is really in the mood so it has become more special, more passionate; a case of less being more. She has used petticoat discipline on a regular basis and we have both become avid readers of your revelatory e-zine. During this time she has punished my tendency to over familiarity and other peccadilloes usually with face slaps and more serious naughtiness with a wedge heeled slipper or leather belt.
As we celebrated our third anniversary we did some soul searching and asked ourselves questions, particularly during the recent holidays. Reading your advice to sissymaid milly and even more so maid kitty's comments about not wandering in the vanilla wilderness, being on a voyage of discovery and the more wholeheartedly we embrace the lifestyle the more we would get out of it plus the minimum core requirement for a Mistress was a road to Damascus moment for us. After the briefest exchange we decided that we were both now ready to stop just playing and make a serious lifetime commitment to each other as Mistress and slave. I got down on my knees and humbly begged her to accept me as her slave, promised to devote the rest of my life to serving her, to obey her always, be faithful to her, to serve her to the best of my ability, to smooth her path through life, to look after her, to care for her, to worship her, in short to cherish her. She just answered, “You may,” and I was ecstatic.
Henceforth I must address her and refer to her only as Goddess and I have become known simply as slave b. Since then we have done all the obvious things. I've written to the DVLA to re-register my car in her name, surrendered my credit card, arranged to have my salary paid into her bank account, closed my own bank account and had my assets transferred to hers. She has replaced my smart phone with a very basic model, the sort parents give to young children, so she can track my whereabouts and I can only make and receive calls, send and receive texts. She's confiscated my laptop, closed my e mail accounts and set this one up, to which only she has the password, so to send or receive e mails or search the web I must first ask permission to use her computer. On Saturday we visited the local branch of a well known sex shop chain to buy her a strapon and some of the punishment items suggested by kitty, but Goddess and I were both unimpressed as everything they had looked more like toys and we left empty handed.
Goddess has command me to write and ask you two questions. Can you think of anything else which she should do in this set up phase and what should we do next? Also could you please suggests some effective (by which I assume she means painful) punishments which do not leave marks as this might be a problem at work. Confession: I did say that the very fact that such marks would cause me embarrassment would be in itself a powerful incentive to good behaviour, but Goddess slapped my face and told me get down on my knees. She then followed the advice you gave in the December issue and put a blob of mustard of my tongue. It was just the ready mixed stuff from a jar, but it still hurt like hell. She then ordered me to the computer and get typing.
Thank you in advance.
Yours most humbly,
Dear Slave b
Thank you for your delightful letter. Congratulations to your Goddess and to your unworthy self, I'm tickled pink that something I wrote has had such a beneficial influence on both your lives. I am certain that neither of you will ever regret this decision and everyone at PDQ wishes you both well for the future.
As you have found out so called sex shops stock only toys. For the real thing I have used the following firms: Quality-Control, Uberkinky; Essentia Whips; Jack's Floggers; Trussed UK, and can recommend them all. For clothing and uniforms Superdresses in Germany are hard to beat for quality and price (I get kitty's punishment panties specially made by them) and Madam Viola is always helpful. One of your first acts as a slave could be to check out their websites and draw up a list of recommendations for your Goddess.
Your Goddess's first question is so open ended that I hardly know where or how to begin, other than to say I can't make decisions about what she should do with the rest of your lives. Obviously my first suggestion would be to give up your job and become a 24/7 sissymaid, but the harsh realities of life like paying the mortgage, relatives etc have a nasty habit of getting in the way. Also your Goddess may have other plans for you. So my more measured advice is for her to do some research, maybe visit a few S&M clubs to talk to other Mistresses and their slaves and see what choices are actually practical for your own circumstances. Feel free to write to me again to discuss anything specific she may be contemplating.
As an absolute minimum you should be petticoated every day, at least when you are at home. Wearing appropriate underwear when you go out is another must; fear of the embarrassment resulting from discovery is an important part of your training. In my opinion a corset is sine qua non for any sissymaid or indeed any male undergoing petticoat discipline. Its firm embrace is a constant reminder of your Mistress's power and authority, it will improve your posture and give you a more feminine figure and gait, as well as reducing your waist. So I recommend your Goddess put you in a corset and embark you on a programme of figure training setting a waist reduction target to be reached by a given date. I'll leave the punishment for failure to her. Also you must begin your periods either 1 month from the day your Goddess agreed to accept you as her slave or so as to synchronise with her own. I find having kitty in synchronism with myself most convenient, but the choice is for your Goddess to make.
In the longer term what is required is some outward and visible sign, at least to her, of your new found status. Kitty has my initials M A branded on the front of her thighs and on her calves but this is probably too extreme for someone just beginning their journey, particularly as you say marking is a problem. Something I have just allowed kitty to do as a Christmas present might be more suitable for you. Normally I insist that kitty keeps her body hairless, but at her request I allowed her to let her pubic hair re grow and then I waxed and plucked it into a heart shape which she then dyed pink. It looks very sissyish and she's extremely proud of it. Many Mistresses tattoo their slaves “property of Mistress xxx” but I always think tattoos look cheap and tarty, however your Goddess may disagree and order you to get one. An easier option is for you to wear a medallion engraved “salve b” on one side and “property of Goddess xxxx” on the other.
On the question of punishments I'm very much on home territory. As you have already discovered there is more than one way for your Goddess to cause you discomfort, and I can assure you that on the general scale of punishments mustard on the tongue counts as very mild discomfort, you'll find it a little more severe when your Goddess uses a long spoon to coat your uvula, but believe me when I tell you that is only the beginning. I hope you are not now regretting your decision.
Firstly let me say that to be effective punishments do not necessarily have to involve physical pain, though some component of it never goes amiss. Humiliation is also a very effective tool in altering and controlling behaviour. I've just written a detailed account of one humiliation technique for another enquirer, which Auntie Helga may well publish so I won't repeat myself here. If your Goddess would like an advance copy have her contact me.
Another non pain punishment method is to feed you something unpalatable, a week on dry bread and water knocks the fight out the most rebellious slave or querulous sissymaid. A brilliant way of combining both is for you to escort your Goddess to her favourite restaurant where she orders herself a delicious meal and bottle of wine then tells the waiter to bring you two slices of dry bread and a glass of water, explaining that you been so naughty you don't deserve anything better. You then have to watch her eat while the rest of the establishment watches you and sniggers.
Next your Goddess should be aware that it is perfectly possible to administer traditional punishments without leaving marks. It depends on instrument, target area and technique. If marking truly is a problem then I suggest most strongly that you buy for your Goddess a so called nursery cane. They are short, very thin, 5mm or less, very whippy and deliver an intense sting. The precise relationship between thud and sting is a subject all in its own right and I will not digress. I will say that the nursery cane belies its name, and a dozen strokes of those 600mm of Indonesian Palembang cane applied to the soles of your feet, the backs of your knees or your fingers will be more than enough to teach you the error of your ways; two dozen and you will be weeping helplessly.
Those punishments which I have used that definitely do involve pain, but leave no marks and are suitable for a relative novice come into four basic categories, there may be others but these are those of which I have personal experience.
2. Stress positions
3. Punishment enemas
Heat is usually applied using candle wax or hot spices like ginger or chilli. The wax is poured over sensitive parts of the anatomy, genitalia, bottom crack, anus, nipples etc. Afterwards you can be made to pick it off, but I usually use a short crop to whip it off. Bigger candles obviously produce more wax and different colours burn at different temperatures, and the contact temperature can be adjusted by varying the drip height. Nipples can be pre tenderized with nipple clamps. Remember when using nipple clamps that the real pain comes when they are removed and the blood flows back into the nerves, so your Goddess should remove the clamp with one hand as she pours the wax with the other.
After effects should be confined to localised reddening of the skin. The most popular method of using spice is figging, where a piece of peeled root ginger is inserted into the rectum. This was originally done to make tired old horses carry their tails higher and appear more lively, the origin of the expression ginger up, clenching the buttocks or tensing up increases the burning sensation. Smaller pieces may inserted into the penis. This is a must try for your Goddess as it such fun to watch. I have some very hot chilli balm which also works well on nipples, especially pre sensitized ones, and lips. Avoid the eyes at all costs. Effects last 20 to 40 minutes depending on the subject. Usually no after effects unless you have an allergy.
Stress positions are easy and require the minimum of equipment. I use three basic ones. Kneel down on the floor, sit back on your heels, have your hands tied behind your back and balance a book on your head. Your Goddess can specify the additional punishment for allowing the book to fall. Sounds easy, but after a short while you'll find that it isn't. Nipple clamps, with or without weights, can be added as can clothes pegs or clamps on the tongue for extra effect. Standing or kneeling in front of a wall hands secured behind back and keeping an object, eg a pair of dirty panties, pressed against the wall with your nose. Again your Goddess can specify the punishment for allowing them to fall. The further you are away from the wall the greater the discomfort.
The efficacy of kneeling stress positions can be improved by placing objects under the knees. Dice, pebbles, thin strips of wood, even bricks work well but my favourite are bottle tops. Half an hour of kneeling on a pair of those and you won't be smiling. My all time favourite is the murgah position, from the Hindi word for chicken or rooster. As used on Indian schoolchildren, usually girls, the recipient squats down, reaches both arms through their legs and grasps their ear lobes. In this position they resemble a chicken, hence the name. My own version involves the use of some equipment: a slave collar fitted with D rings and wrist cuffs with D rings and snap links (these are available from the first two suppliers in the list above) buckle them in position then pull each arm through the legs in turn and clip the wrists to the collar. Because the arms are pulled further the stress is greater and you can't let go. Your Goddess can laugh at the indignity of your situation as you beg for release, and believe me you will very rapidly be pleading and promising anything to get out of the position. Or she may wish to do as I like to and insert some ginger into your rectum, a combination you will come to hate more than the worst whipping. After effects are muscular and joint pain and general stiffness whose longevity will depend on your level of general fitness.
Enemas are brilliant because they combine physical discomfort with indignity and humiliation especially if, like me, your Goddess insists on you evacuating them into a nappy, which you then have to wash by hand. The pain comes principally from cramps and internal pressure, the greater the volume the higher the level of discomfort, but also on what's added to the fluid. Rather than go into gory detail I'm adding a description kitty wrote for Auntie Helga of a severe punishment enema I gave her. You don't have to use all the ingredients, but it will give your Goddess a good idea of what's possible.
To begin with Mistress Alison had me reconstitute and swallow 8 sachets (the normal dose is 4) of Klean prep, which is a so called stimulating laxative intended to completely void the bowels before surgical procedures. I had actually purchased this for her as an aid to making as certain as possible there would be nothing to obstruct the path of anything she wished to push into me. I feel very strongly that as her sissymaid I should be able to take the largest of strapons for her, or when she fists me her whole arm, and it is my long term goal to work to towards this. After I'd drunk it with some difficulty since it tastes so foul the instruction leaflet actually advises adding fruit squash or cordial to make it more palatable, she instructed me to bend over and she replaced my training plug with the locking pear to prevent any premature seepage. I then returned to my normal duties while Mistress Alison went upstairs to prepare; at this stage I felt nothing other than a feeling of fullness in my stomach and the lingering after taste in my mouth.
When Mistress Alison came down she told me to go to the punishment room and remove my outer clothing, retaining only my corset, suspenders and stockings, and my shoes. I did as instructed and immediately saw that she'd placed the floor stocks on the side of the room facing the large mirror and in front of them a large rubber sheet. I disrobed carefully folded and hung up my clothes and knelt down to wait. Mistress Alison entered a few minutes later carrying several items in a large mixing bowl and a plastic supermarket bag.
She set these down and secured my ankles and wrists in the stocks, then fitted my leg irons. These are steel rods with a leather cuff at each end and when the cuffs are strapped to the thigh and lower calf they prevent me from bending my knees. When she'd finished I was secured in the touch toes position with my bottom high in the air. Mistress Alison walked round to the side of me, undid my corset laces, pulled them as tight as she could and retied them. She then said, “Good we can make a start, but before I begin does it feel like you need the lavatory?” I replied, “No, Mistress, not yet.” She said, “Good girl,” and unlocked my pear, removed it and replaced it with my hollow training plug.
Mistress Alison explained exactly what she was doing as she went along, but to save repetition I'll omit her commentary unless I feel it is necessary to ensure clarity. She began by squirting two pre prepared Fleet enema sachets into me then popped in two glycerine suppositories followed by a banana soaked in more of the Fleet enema solution. I wasn't really aware of the liquid or the suppositories once they were inside, but the banana felt very strange, no more than mildly uncomfortable but disturbing as things were moving the wrong way, which I found unsettling. After a brief pause to let me settle Mistress Alison began pushing in marshmallows using her gloved finger and smallest dildo to move them as far as she could. She counted to ten then pushed in another suppository and another banana. By this stage I was feeling very full indeed and quite uncomfortable. I'd got over my disquiet at things moving upwards rather than downwards and was now more and more distracted by the bloated feeling in my abdomen. Mistress Alison continued; another suppository followed by ten more marshmallows and a third banana. My discomfort had now turned to pain and I felt I was full to bursting, I could feel the additional pressure against my corset.
But Mistress Alison was far from finished; another ten marshmallows went in and then a suppository and a final banana. Mistress Alison had some difficulty pushing it home with her dildo, but it went in making me feel even fuller. To finish off she squirted the contents of two more Fleet enema sachets in then carefully pulled out my hollow plug and swiftly replaced it with three panty liners which had been soaked in the enema solution then rolled up tightly into a cylinder. Although it must have been smaller in diameter than my training plug it still felt very large and seemed to be a tight fit. Before releasing me she wrapped a large terry towelling nappy around and under me and pinned it at the back rather than the front as is more usual. The whole process probably took no more than five minutes.
Mistress Alison went to was her hands and during her absence I began to feel the effects of either the enema solution or the Klean prep. The painful fullness had turned into a powerful feeling of urgently needing the lavatory. When she returned she asked me how I was feeling and I answered, “Very uncomfortable, Mistress.” She signalled she had heard, but said nothing as she released my wrists. I straightened up glad of the opportunity to ease my aching back, but as I did so I felt a rumbling sensation in my abdomen and experienced a sharp stab of pain as my stomach began to cramp. Mistress Alison then released my ankles and I stood as still as possible while she removed the leg irons and tried to suppress the desire to flee to the bathroom. She stood up and beckoned me to follow her towards the centre of the room. I walked awkwardly behind her feeling the contents of my belly weighing heavily on me. She stopped and then conducted a brief inspection walking slowly around me. She told me that my stocking seams were crooked and my wig was askew. I went to move to the punishment bench but she said sharply, “Wait.” I stopped and she went to the cupboard and came back with the pair of long rubber bloomers. She handed them to me and I put them on; Mistress Alison then used electricians' cable ties to pull the legs of the bloomers tightly closed so that nothing would leak out. She pointed to the bench and I knelt up on it.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw her take her long dressage crop from the rack so I gritted my teeth and waited, trying to ignore the pains in stomach and the cramps which were now coming more frequently. Mistress tapped the small of my back with the crop and said, “You know that I expect you to be perfectly turned out at all times, the fact that you're restrained in the stocks doesn't change anything; you were incorrectly dressed.” She paused so I replied, “Yes, Mistress I was. I'm sorry, Mistress.” She gave a slight grunt and told me, “You will be,” then gave me three rapid strokes to back of my left knee, then three more to my left calf.
The pain did help distract me from what was going on inside, but only for a moment or two. Mistress Alison then moved round to the other side and gave my right leg the same treatment. She moved back to the left leg and repeated the number strokes in the same places. Then she went back to the right leg and did the same again. She repeated this procedure twice more meaning both of my knees and both of my calves got twelve strokes each. When Mistress Alison had finished I stood up, trying not to clutch at my stomach, thanked her for my correction and kissed both the crop and each of her shoes then stood awaiting instructions. After a couple of minutes she instructed me to get dressed, adjust my wig, repair my make up and report downstairs. I just said, “Yes, Mistress,” and gave her a bow as she swept out.
I glanced at my dishevelled reflection in the mirror and set about repairing my appearance, but it was easier said than done. As I tried to straighten my seams I was hampered by the trembling of my fingers and it was impossible not to be distracted by the pains in my stomach and the powerful cramps which were now coming more frequently. Every time I moved I could hear ominous gurgling sounds coming from my bowels and I thought that at any moment I was going to mess my nappy. Eventually I got my seams right and got dressed as best I could, but trying to re do my make up was a nightmare, my hand were by now not so much trembling as shaking and my forehead was covered in little beads of sweat that the powder did little to hide. When I thought I might just about pass Mistress Alison's inspection I made my way downstairs. Even that proved more difficult than I would have imagined, with every step I feel the contents of innards moving around and I was convinced I would not reach the bottom of the stairs without disgracing myself.
I entered Mistress Alison's presence, curtseyed and awaited further instructions. She was sitting down and gave me an appraising look without getting up. Eventually she told me, “You look dreadful, very sloppy turnout I expect better from you. I'll punish you later, but now I want my feet massaged.” I felt gutted (in more ways than one) as I curtseyed said, “Yes, Mistress,” curtseyed again and knelt down to massage her feet. As I slipped off her shoes and was kissing each of her toes in turn she asked me, “How do you feel? Nice and full I would imagine.” Trying not to wince or allow the discomfort to show in my voice I answered, “Full, yes, Mistress, very, but nice is not the word I would use to describe it.” She gave me a hint of a smile and said, “I want you to describe to me in slightest detail exactly what you are feeling. I want to know precisely what effect your deep cleansing is having, continue to work on my feet as you do so.”
I answered, “Yes, Mistress,” then asked, “Have you ever been caught short in a public place far from any toilet facilities, where you're torn between hurrying to get to a toilet and taking the tiniest steps with your bottom tightly clenched in case you have an accident? Because it feels like that only several hundred times worse, plus you are trembling all over and feeling hot and cold by turns and experiencing waves of painful cramps that you think can't possibly get any worse, but they do. Imagine that you're simultaneously suffering from a nasty bout of flu, you find it impossible to think about anything but your own discomfort because your stomach and bowels are painfully bloated and it feels like you've got a whale thrashing around inside you. In short it is not pleasant.”
Mistress Alison smiled as she said, “Good. Thank you for that graphic description. Let me know if the sensations change.” I manage to reply, “Of course Mistress,” and tried to concentrate on my task. I assure you that my description is not an exaggeration, normally kneeling at Mistress Alison's feet and lovingly massaging them is a source of nothing but joy. She loves having me do it and I love doing it for her, but as my hands became more and more shaky and I began to feel actually nauseous I found it increasingly difficult to perform even this most pleasant of tasks adequately. The cramps just kept coming and every time as they increased in intensity I thought, “This is it, I'm going to foul myself,” but it didn't happen; they slowly subsided giving me a very brief respite before they began all over again.
At first I tried clenching to prevent anything seeping out, but when I did so the cramping got much stronger; and when I tried to bring matters to a head and get it over with by trying to squeeze out the plug the pain grew even more intense. The only course of action was to try and do nothing and just wait for the inevitable. Every few minutes I thought it was about to happen and it didn't and it would be hard to overstate the debilitating effect the constant uncertainty had on me. I have no idea how long it went on for, to me it seemed like forever though Mistress Alison later told me it was only a little over two hours, but long before the end of it I was a babbling wreck barely able to string three words together and pleading with Mistress Alison to be allowed to use the lavatory.
Mistress Alison was not to be moved by my pleadings she just said, “It will make no difference, neither you nor I can move that plug until it's ready to come out so you'll just have to be patient. Continue massaging my feet.” I tried as best I could, but it was well nigh impossible to think of anything other than what was going on inside me and the pain of the cramps. If anyone tells you stomach cramps are something trivial that only a complete wimp would complain about, as I would have done before this experience, then they've never experienced really severe cramps. This felt like I was being turned inside out by some giant malign hand or undergoing colo-rectal surgery without the benefit of anesthetic, if you'll excuse the hyperbole.
At long last it did end of course, and it happened quite suddenly. As the cycle of cramps reached its peak I felt a sudden movement in my rectum, swiftly followed by another and then the dam broke so to speak. I was simultaneously aghast at what was flowing into my nappy and relieved that the pressure had been released. In a voice that I barely recognised as my own I croaked, “It's happened, Mistress. I've soiled my nappy, I'm sorry, Mistress.” There was a look of determined satisfaction on her face as she replied, “Did I give you permission to stop?” I shook my head and said, “No, Mistress.” She very curtly ordered, “Well continue.”
I almost sighed with relief as I bent back to attend to her feet and felt the warm sticky mess accumulating in my nappy because the pain was rapidly subsiding. My relief quickly turned to consternation as the nappy filled up and then overflowed into my rubber bloomers. I could feel something nasty running down the inside of my thigh and collecting in the bottom of them. I was glad Mistress Alison had sealed them with the cable ties or else I should have soiled my petticoats and the inside of my uniform or worse still Mistress's carpet. The bloomers might have contained the liquid but they couldn't do the same for the unmistakable smell of ordure which assailed my nostrils.
What now seems a life time ago I read a delightfully moving account in Petticoat Discipline Quarterly of someone whose mother regressed him back to babyhood and then went through a fast track programme of bringing up the baby as a girl. She became a very pretty teenager and both she and her mother were delighted with the results. Entranced by the idea I begged to be treated in the same manner, it took a great deal of persuasion, but eventually my request was granted. Of course the reality was nothing like my expectations and pleasant sensation of being utterly helpless and totally dependent very soon turned to boredom, which coupled with the revolting goo I was made to eat completely turned me away from any further experiments in this direction. But my overriding memory of that seemingly endless weekend is the smell of poo, which no matter how frequently I was bathed, oiled and talced clung to me like an importunate beggar. Now that same miasma emanating from my underwear brought that memory flooding back and it made me shudder.
By this time Mistress Alison was laughing at me and said, “You should see your face. It really is a picture, a study in disgust. I thought you liked suffering.” I shook my head miserably and told her that I was quite prepared to endure any suffering for her and how much I adored her and loved being her sissymaid, but how much I also loved being as demure, dainty and feminine as possible and liked smelling of powder and perfume not ponging of poo. I admitted I was very close to tears, not from the physical discomfort but because I felt so unfeminine and so dirty. Mistress Alison took pity on me and told me to go and use the bathroom and clean myself up and when I'd finished to wait naked in the punishment room. I gave her my best curtsey and my sincere and heartfelt thanks, curtseyed again and left her presence.
I went first to the kitchen to collect a bucket and a pair of scissors and took them up to the bathroom. I placed the bucket in the bath and removed my uniform and petticoats with the greatest of care, they didn't seem to have anything unpleasant on them so I hung them up and then equally carefully unlaced and removed my corset. I decided there was no way to rescue my stockings so I stepped into the bath and placed my left foot in the bucket, then I cut the cable tie of the leg of the bloomers and gingerly peeled it away from my leg. The smell was much stronger and very unpleasant as their contents trickled down my leg. I released my grip and repeated the process with my right leg. Next I carefully hooked my thumbs in the waistband and pulled it out and right down until they were hanging from just above my knees inside out, dripping onto my lower legs and feet. The smell was quite overpowering. I turned my head to one side, took a deep breath and tried to squat over the bucket. I don't know whether Mistress Alison deliberately put the nappy pin at the back to make it more difficult to remove but I found it impossible to remove without some spillage occurring. I tried to whip the nappy off and drop it in the bucket as quickly as possible, but in the process liberally splattered my stockinged legs with the sticky mess it contained. I then sat on the bucket and squirted some more out of me while I undid my suspenders and peeled off my stockings.
When I thought it was safe to do so I got up, picked the solid lumps out of the bath and dropped them in the bucket together with my ruined stockings, then showered off my lower half and washed the remaining mess out of the bath and off the sides of the bucket. I got out, lifted the lavatory seat and sat on the porcelain for the next twenty minutes while I got rid of the rest of the enema. I could feel the remains of the marshmallows as I passed them but everything else was just liquid. Eventually I reckoned there was nothing more left inside me and I got up washed my rear end again and opened the window wide. I put on my uniform and one petticoat and my shoes and crept quietly downstairs with the bucket. I placed it outside the back door so I could deal with it later then went back up to the bathroom. I filled the bath and the wash basin with hot water and added a generous glug of Dettol to each in order to disinfect them and take away the smell. Finally I got undressed and made my way to the punishment room.
To my dismay Mistress Alison was waiting for me and I could see she had a large jug and an enema bag together with her inflatable nozzle. My heart sank at the thought of receiving another washing out, but I said nothing and tried to look pleased to see Mistress Alison. She said briskly, “You were a long time, get over the bench.” There didn't seem be any point in saying anything other than, “Yes, Mistress,” so I said it and knelt up on the bench as instructed. She secured just my wrists and ankles pulled on a pair of gloves and lubricated my anus; as she did she asked, “Are you sore?” But without waiting for me to reply added, “Well if aren't then you will be when we've finished.” Again all I could say in reply was a simple, “Yes, Mistress.” She inserted the nozzle and connected up the hose, released the clamp and as I felt it running in she told me I was getting 4 pints with a little soap to clean me and some soothing olive oil. I don't know about the oil being soothing but it makes it much harder to hold on to the enema when the nozzle is removed. When it had all flowed in Mistress Alison pumped up the bulb on the nozzle to keep everything in place then left me so the enema could in her words “do its job.”
On her return Mistress Alison unstrapped and instructed me to go to the bathroom expel the enema, void my bowels clean the nozzle and return to the punishment room. I went to the bathroom and did as she instructed and at the same time gave the bath a very quick clean. When I returned to Mistress Alison she once again strapped me to the bench and this time gave me just a plain enema, 5 pints of lukewarm water. As before she left me for approximately 30 minutes before releasing me and sending me to the bathroom telling me to ensure that I got rid of “every last drop” of what was inside me. I took my time to make completely sure I'd complied with Mistress Alison's instructions then washed and dried my bottom yet again before presenting myself back in the punishment room.
Note the use of the rolled up panty liners to hold the enema in place. As they absorb fluid they swell up and form a tight seal that is impossible to remove. Trying to squeeze it out merely increases the frequency and severity of the cramps. These build up to a climax but just when expulsion and befoulment seem inevitable they subside, only to start again. There is no way of knowing when the panty liners will have absorbed sufficient liquid to start breaking up so the release is unpredictable and, when it comes, very sudden. A subtle form of torment. I like to send my sissymaids on a short shopping trip in this condition, just for extra amusement. After effects are a sore anus (ready for a few well placed cane strokes or a generous dribble of wax perhaps) possibly some nappy rash and maybe looseness of the bowel the following day.
Lastly but very much not least we come to electrics. I love electrics because of the endless possibilities and no Mistress or Dominant should be without at least one electrics box. The biggest names are Erostek, Folsom and P.E.S but there are many others; just type E Stim into any search engine. As a minimum your Goddess will need a basic box plus a range of electrodes such as a urethral probe, an anal plug, several cock rings, and assorted clamps for attaching to the scrotum and nipples. It sounds complicated but once you get the hang of the basic principles it's child's play. The equipment sends electrical pulses through nerves and muscles producing either sensations or contractions and by varying the placement of the electrodes your Goddess will be able to produce a vast range of sensations over your body.
For example a combination of anal plug and a urethral probe with result in muscle contractions in the rectum and the penis combined with tingling sensations in both, plus the current flows across the prostate gland producing its own unique sensation. A low levels it's pleasantly erotic, like being masturbated from the inside out, but as the current goes up the contractions get stronger and the tingling sharper until pleasure turns to pain, then to serious pain, then to agony then to torture. Even the feeblest American box, and for some reason US boxes have lower outputs than British ones, will pack enough punch to bring you quite literally to your knees. A skilled operator can keep you on the cusp between pleasure and pain, or between bearable and unbearable pain, for as long as they want, even hours if they wish, without causing any damage or lasting effects. You can play like this all morning, take a quick lunch break and be ready for the afternoon of the same as if nothing had happened.
There are a bewildering variety of modes; pulse, waves, rhythm, random, ramp etc etc and despite having owned boxes for several years I still haven't tried out all the possible permutations. What suits you best is definitely something which you and your Goddess will have to discover through experimentation, but think of the fun, well fun for her. She can also use the box at low levels to give herself the most wonderful orgasms, and unlike you the box will never get tired, she can make them gentle, powerful, slow, rapid, multiple etc at the touch of a button. Making you kneel at the foot of the bed and watch will add an extra dimension to her pleasure.
Another feature of the smaller boxes is the remote facility. Kitty has a special pouch in one of her petticoats to carry the box and is wired up underneath her panties. I have the remote, just like a TV remote, only smaller. I can give her a gentle jolt or drop her to her knees and she never knows when it's coming or how powerful it's going to be, this can be used as a summons, a punishment, or just a not so gentle reminder of her place. This is very useful on shopping trips to the supermarket, I can summon her from another aisle and it's also great fun to wind up the level as she is waiting in the checkout queue and watch her trying to maintain her composure. Some boxes have an audio trigger, so they are activated when the sound reaches a pre set level. During punishment sessions the box is placed near her head and if she makes too much noise she gets an additional little something to remind her to be quiet. It can also be used as a toy if I make her stand near the speakers in a pub for example and tweak the level, whether she gets a jolt depends as much on the selection of music as it does me. After effects, zero. Electrics is the gift that keeps on giving.
I haven't mentioned CBT because this is another subject all in its own right, and another one about which I could write a book. If you or your Goddess have any specific questions on this subject just send me an e-mail otherwise check out the Uberkinky site for a selection of what's available.
Hopefully all this will be of use to both your Goddess and yourself and she will be able to put some, though I doubt all, of it into practice. If she has found it helpful then it would be nice if she could show her appreciation for the time and effort spent in its compilation by sending Auntie Helga occasional updates of your progress for publication.
In the meantime I have a little task to set you. From tonight you shall spend at least 30 minutes every day practising walking in high heels (Goddess can decide the height but they must be a minimum of 3 inches) and your curtsy. Your goal is to be able to curtsy, walk up a flight of stairs, curtsy, turn, curtsy, and walk back down the stairs, and curtsy again while keeping a book balanced on your head. Your Goddess can decide the punishment for allowing the book to fall. And before you tell me it's impossible, yes I know it is. That's the whole point, I know of no sissymaid, or woman for that matter, who can do this but it will teach you to strive for unattainable perfection in the service of your Goddess.
Comment from sissymaid kitty
Dear Salve b
I am both gratified and flattered that you say that my words contributed to your decision to change your life and that of your Mistress and Goddess for the better. As you know I regard being a sissymaid as the highest vocation in life and you are well on your way to becoming a member of a very special coterie who have decided to dedicate their lives to the service of their Mistress.
I can't add much to what Mistress Alison has written regarding punishment without marks except to say that the most important tool any Mistress can possess is what lives between her ears, a little imagination and ingenuity will go a very long way to ensure you never forget your proper place and are made to keep it.
Of all the techniques Mistress describes above the one I hate most is the punishment enema. It is prolonged, its effects variable, timing unpredictable and cleaning up afterwards is a very lengthy, messy and smelly process. But worse than all of these are the psychological effects; it makes one feel dirty, decidedly unfeminine, and utterly helpless because you can no longer control the workings of your own body. It is as if the envelope of flesh which has sustained you since birth and protected you psyche and your soul has suddenly betrayed you, let you down, failed you. It is not a nice emotion to experience, made worse by the fact that even your omnipotent Mistress can do nothing to intervene, even if she wished to. Your world is turned upside down.
I wish both your Goddess and yourself well for the future and hope becoming her slave and sissymaid brings you same deep satisfaction and contentment it has brought me.
Dear Mistress Alison
Thank you for your extremely detailed and most fascinating reply. I have quickly scanned through it and Goddess is currently reading through it more carefully at her leisure. I pointed out to her your instructions to me contained in the final paragraph and am awaiting her detailed instructions.
The vivid details contained in sissymaid kitty's description of her punishment enema were quite chilling and left me wondering how safe it is to push so much into the colon.
Yours most humbly
Dear Slave b
Mistress Alison has instructed me to reply to your recent e mail.
She is pleased that your Goddess has acted on some of her advice and looks forward to hearing how you cope (or more likely don't cope) with your assignment when you are correctly attired.
I can attest from personal experiences that if executed correctly punishment enemas will not cause you any lasting harm. Damage can occur if they are too hot or possibly too cold. Others have written that very cold or even iced enemas cause the most painful cramps and many claim that this achieved by using a mixture of milk and molasses to create intestinal gas. Some have used coffee and even alcohol, which I definitely would not advise. Your Goddess need have no worries about the mess since it is your duty to clear it up.
Below is an article Mistress Alison wrote for another supplicant inquire regarding public humiliation.
Humiliation is an entire topic in itself and one about which I could write reams and reams. You quite correct that in our crazy times when people, even very young schoolchildren, are encouraged to pick their own gender from an ever increasing menu it is becoming more difficult to hold one's sissymaid up to public ridicule. In the case of kitty, my own sissymaid, it is well nigh impossible as she adores going out fully dressed and proclaiming to the world how fortunate she is to be my sissymaid. But therein lies the answer, humiliation is all in the mind and it matters not so much what the world thinks as what your sissymaid believes it will think. Remember you are parading your sissymaid before the world so the world can see just what she is.
First you have to be clear what you wish to achieve and decide just how public you want to go. Are you doing it as means of punishment or in order to reinforce your authority? A little taste of public humiliation with the express threat of far more and worse should she ever give you cause is a fantastically powerful tool in your armoury. However never make a threat that you are not prepared to carry out. A low key means of exposing your sissymaid to public exposure is to invite your friends round for dinner and have your sissymaid serve you, while you explain about her new role and status. Afterwards they can watch you punish her and if you wish you could invite them to take part. For some reason sissymaids find being reduced to helpless tears in front of men particularly embarrassing so inviting married couples would not only be very effective, but might well encourage your female friends to follow your example. Does she have female relations you could invite?
However, my preferred method would be to go the whole hog with an outing to the shops. I know that in her original letter milly wrote that you do not allow her to wear make up, but nothing shouts sissymaid louder than an obviously biological male wearing cosmetics. I always insist that my sissymaids are properly made up and look immaculate at all times. Faults like chipped nail varnish (a constant hazard for any working sissymaid) smudged lipstick, uneven eye shadow or drooping lashes are always punished most severely. This regime helps inculcate the habit of the sissymaid constant worrying about and checking her appearance just as women have always done throughout the ages. The following humiliation technique was recommended to me by the woman who probably taught me more than anyone else about becoming a Mistress and owning and training sissymaids, and it involves the use of make up. It does however require a certain degree of nerve to carry out.
Begin by plucking her eyebrows, not outrageously so but enough so that anyone looking at her face to face will realise it has been done. She is bound to make a fuss complaining about the pain so a gag is a must. However for this most feminine of beauty tasks something more appropriate than the Jennings would be helpful and I would suggest a couple of used tampons and a pair of your unwashed panties held in place with an old stocking. Then you can complete the task in peace and quiet. Then add eyeliner and some eye shadow before painting her fingers nails in a nice bright shade of red. Your sissymaid is then ready for her first outing.
Have her dress in normal male clothes and drive her to a large shopping centre. Instruct her on pain of the severest whipping to walk round the centre three times looking for shops that sell handbags keeping her hands out of her pockets and in plain view. Follow at a discreet distance to ensure she complies. When she has done this order to go into at least three different shops before purchasing a white leather clutch bag. White to provide contrast with her nails and a clutch style so she will have to hold it plain view when making the rest of her purchases. When she has the bag transfer her money, credit card and so forth into it and she is ready for her first real sissy shopping experience.
Give very explicit instructions to buy first a powder compact and use it to check on her appearance immediately after entering every shop she goes into. Next to visit a jewellers or store that engraves name tags and order a medallion engraved on one side with “sissymaid milly” and on the other “property of Mistress Laura,” then to a chemist for a packet of tampons. Next to a lingerie shop to ask very specifically for a matching set of lacy bra and panties in “sissy pink” and another “tarty red” and two pairs of fully fashioned black stockings. She must tell the assistant they are for herself because she is a sissymaid in training.
Lastly have her visit a department store that has cosmetics counters and approach the youngest salesgirl and ask for a shade of lipstick that matches her nails, she must tell the assistant that it is for herself as her Mistress wants her to look pretty when serving her and ask the girl's advice on applying it and for a recommendation of another shade that will match her skin colour. Observe proceedings form nearby to make sure she complies.
Sissymaid milly will feel mortified, but the salesgirl will probably have seen it all before and take it in her stride, she may even try to sell her other items. Other customers nearby may not be so relaxed. When that transaction is completed she must move to another counter or another store and repeat the procedure, but this time asking for false eyelashes and mascara, again she must tell the salesgirl they are for herself and the reason why and ask for advice. Lastly she must go to another counter or store and this time ask the girl for perfume.
When she reports back with her purchases examine them publicly and spritz her with the perfume telling her she has been a good little sissymaid and the things she has bought will suit her so well; or if she has failed or not obeyed your instructions to the letter tell what a naughty sissymaid she has been and in a loud voice ask, “And what happens to naughty disobedient sissymaids?” She must then answer you in a loud clear voice and then you say, “Just wait till I get you home.” Whatever happens when you arrive home tell her she will be wearing her new items for her next shopping trip, which will be for shoes. Repeat this procedure or something similar each weekend until she has a complete wardrobe for going out in public; skirt, blouses, possibly a jacket or cardigan, a raincoat and a different handbag, but always including at least one item of makeup so she ends up with her own beauty bag. Then you can send her out shopping on her own.
A question I'm frequently asked about public outings is which lavatory should a dressed sissy used. The answer is obvious: the men's room. Despite the fact that kitty can and has passed as a female, going into the Ladies would be to invite unwanted attention and possibly the involvement of the police, who would take a very dim view. If there is any doubt about your sissymaid's personal endurance then the answer is a nappy. Couple this with a pair of plastic incontinence pants, preferably lockable, and her humiliation will be complete. I say plastic rather than the more traditional rubber because plastic ones are stiffer, more uncomfortable and above all noisier; as your sissymaid moves they will make a sound like crisp packets being scrunched up only louder. This will serve to draw attention to her and if anyone looks you can say, “Yes, that noise you can hear is my sissymaid's incontinence pants, I'm afraid she has no control over her bodily functions.”
Dear Mistress Alison
You may remember that in your response to my initial inquiry back in January one of the many things you advised was that I should obtain a corset and that Goddess set me a waist reduction target to be achieved by a certain date. I am writing to tell you that I have now achieved my target and every day for the last week have managed to lace myself to a 10cm reduction.
I have also being practising my curtsy with a book on my head each and every day, to Goddess's great amusement. I've yet to even try walking up and down the stairs with it, but I shall.
She has become very skilful in wielding the nursery cane and a few hard strokes to the inside of my thighs (very much her preferred target) or the soles of my feet always result in genuine tears. At first Goddess suspected I might be faking it to elicit sympathy and a lesser punishment, but now realises they are very real.
You were so right about the delights and possibilities of an electrics box. I bought one for Goddess as a Valentines day present and we've been experimenting virtually every night since. The one I chose was the SensaVox EM140, certainly not cheap but worth every penny. I also got her a Folsom Electro Ball Lok, which squeezes the balls between two clear plates as it applies the shocks, an elctro urethra sound and a butt plug from E stim plus some conducting catheters and a selection of clamps. Goddess hasn't used all of them on me yet but says she plans to by Easter.
I've been put into two of your suggested stress positions, not the murgha as yet as Goddess is saving that for her birthday, and they were every bit as challenging as you said they would be. The only things we haven't got round to trying are candle wax, figging and the enema. Goddess informs me that she will in her own good time but currently she's having too much fun with the electrics. Despite Kitty's reassurances we both are still a bit wary about large enemas containing anything other than water, but Goddess knows I will try it for her if she so wishes, sorry commands.
We both think that the decision we made back in late December was the right one and believe that both our lives have been hugely enriched by becoming Goddess and slave. So much so that I am thinking of changing my job, I currently work in a sports centre where amongst other things I am a swimming instructor and lifeguard, hence the problem with marking. A move into management would mean Goddess would no longer have the frustration of having to hold back when punishing me. Thank you so much for all your good advice and encouragement. We are hugely indebted to you.
Goddess has commanded that I send you the regular updates you asked for; would you prefer them at milestone events or on time basis?
Yours most humbly
Dear Slave b
Thank you for kind letter.
I am pleased that you have now reached your allotted target for waist reduction and are working to achieve equal success in other areas.
As to your question regarding updates I have no preference as long as you keep writing with good news of what else you are doing to serve your Goddess better, though suggest you address anything that is not a query to Auntie Helga for publication to a wider readership.