Why....?

Slavery is not a sexual fantasy

A recent post by Saratoga reminded me that much of the attraction of slavery is not in itself sexual: it's a way of dodging the full complexities of adulthood, and the responsibilities of adult relationships - so much so that emotional fulfillment is the one thing the owner would certainly not get from it. In fantasy, and in historical reality, the owner doesn't notice the slave, or at least doesn't engage emotionally with him.

In bedroom play, the owner can enjoy some pampering and assisted masturbation. And longer daytime sessions offer her chore-free "me time". But for any longer; I think most women would get lonely.

In real slave owning cultures, the owners looked for emotional fulfillment to their friends and lovers - in my fantasies at least, all of them female...

...because, yes, sex does feature as part of the fantasy, whether watching my mistress go to it with her Sapphic lover, or providing a very personal service.

However, I do wonder whether much of the erotic charge of this odd sort of participant voyeurism is that it is an expression of the wider, non-sexual role...

Stockingtops in 3D

It's rather odd watching this, as if the time-portal were just firing up.

He's achieved the effect by taking a stereo image - yep, porn drove technology, even back then - and simply using animation to flick between the two views.

End result... you could almost lift her the skirt of her slip. I wonder what you'd find...

More here...

The Chastity Belt: What happened next....?

Actually, only I have the answer! It came to me out of the blue. I think I'll call it Chastity on the Beach. Here's a taster of the first draft...

Mark thumbed his way up Cassandra's spine. The suntan lotion made her skin glisten like warm toffee. She let out a long, "Mmmmm..." and his chastity belt tightened.

From behind him came the sound of splashes and giggles; the other two thirds of the Trio making the most of the Mediterranean. It would be nice to turn and watch, but slaves don't choose their own actions, and there was no place with these glorious girls except as a slave.

"Unclip the top," ordered Cassandra.

Mark smiled. The holiday sun had thawed and tanned the alabaster-skinned ice maiden, and streaked her chestnut hair with gold, but she was still the formidable girl he'd fallen in love with. Gingerly, he unfastened the bikini top and rolled his thumbs from the base of her spine to the nape of her neck, again and again, enjoying the sweep of her hourglass figure. Each sweep tightened his chastity belt until it felt as if a mailed fist clutched his lost penis.

"Cease." She shifted to place her arms by her side and turned her head to place her cheek on the mat. "Shoulder blades."

Mark knelt back, squirted some lotion into his hand and rubbed his palms to warm it.

A shriek and a splash came from the water.

He gave up and stole a glance into the glare beyond the sunshade.

The other two girls were well out in the private bay, fighting over a lilo. As he watched, Felicity hauled herself aboard and – sodden hair and bare breasts swinging - flopped onto the inflatable. Moira shot out of the water like a polka-dot porpoise and landed astride the larger girl. The water had turned the Scottish readhead's tied-back hair brown-black, but the sun had brought out her freckles, so it seemed that an exotic tattoo covered every inch of her exposed skin.

"Demerit," snapped Cassandra.

Mark's cock twitched inside the chastity belt. He bobbed his head, even though she wasn't looking. "Yes, Mistress."

As he thumbed her shoulder blades, the tingle of excitement faded into irritation. There was nothing erotic about his morning beatings; kneeling in the courtyard, too hungry, too bleary, to be turned on while a girl in a faded t-shirt laid into him with a riding whip. And yet, he had no choice. A guy sealed into indestructible chastity belt is lucky if he belongs anywhere at all.

Depression welled up in the pit of his stomach—-

--and his cock throbbed into life, hopelessly straining against his Quantumite prison.

Mark smiled. The good thing about being a masochist is that even the turnoffs are a turn-on... sort of.

"Legs now."

Mark shifted his hands to just short of her silver ankle-bracelet and kneaded the powerful calve muscle. Not fashionable legs, he decided. But the curves looked great in stockings. He frowned. Too hot for those at the moment. He worked his way up her near leg as far as the crease where thigh met rump. Then he leant over and repeated the procedure for the far leg. As he reached the top, she raised her hips.

"Remove the briefs and do my buttocks."

Mark slid jet black garment down her long legs. As he reached her ankles, he twisted his head and stole a glance. The tops of her thighs formed an arrow-shaped frame around her ruby labia.

The throbbing in the chastity belt merged into a solid, prickling, pressure. Mark licked his lips and remembered lapping at her crotch, willing his mouth with her juices. But that was before the Trio.

He bent over Cassandra's buttocks, using his weight to pummel and kneed them like rich dough. The hot, animal aroma of her vulva drifted up to tickle his nostrils. His mouth watered and his fingertips tingled with the knowledge that they were inches from the unattainable source - more unattainable now that it had been during his year long pursuit.

The giggles and splashes approached. Feet thudded on the sand.

At least back then, he had had a dark sort of hope. Now he was just a housekeeper, manservant and masseur.

Wet female flesh brushed Mark's flank, setting off a spasm in his penis. The chastity belt beeped, but nobody took any notice of that any more; no amount of self restraint could reduce his life sentence now.

Felicity cocked a leg over Cassandra's torso and shimmied. Water cascaded from her bare breasts and sodden hair.

"Hey!" Cassandra rolled over, breasts a streak of white. "You utter cow!" She started to sit up.

Moira pounced from the side and fastened her mouth on the Cassandra's nipple.

"Wet! Cold! Off!" expostulated Cassandra. "Off!.. Oh..." She lay back down. "Oh... I'm ready for this."

The petite Scots girl slithered astride Cassandra's thigh. The one-piece bathing suit with a retro-fringe of skirt made her look girlish, but the twitches of her pelvis were those of a woman intent on grinding her groin to orgasm.

Felicity giggled and dropped down next to the pair, forcing Mark to scrabble out of the way. She flicked back her hair, them carefully pinched Cassandra's free breast and slid her between her legs. Cassandra's lips went naked these days, the chestnut curls trimmed back for the easy access of tongue and fingertip – female tongue and fingertip.

Cassandra moaned and raised her hips, lifting Moira like a jockey riding a horse over a jump. "Christ, just do it! "

Felicity laughed. "Do what?"

Cassandra raised her head. "Finger me..."

Felicity gave the nipple a tug.

"Ah... Finger me, you bitch!"

"Like this?" Felicity's fingers slid inside.

Cassandra moaned and squirmed. The movement triggered a squeal from Moira. The tiny Celtic lass twitched her hips into a frenzy, and whimpered into Cassandra's captive breast--

--and Mark just knelt there on the edge of the shade, waiting for orders, and watching. His chastity belt throbbed like a second heart and he found himself swaying in time to Moira's grindings.

Perhaps the Trio had turned him into some sort of sexless servant. But they were worth it....

Her morning after...

(Click the picture for a large size image)

In my Whips and Stockingtops world, the men are all chastity-caged slaves, and the women - all lesbians - are barely aware of the humanity of the males who serve them. And serve them they do, sexually, of course, but mainly as mundane servants.

It's a slave fantasy, yes, but it's a realistic one. Except for the rare pervert - after all, a small percentage of the females will be straight in any circumstances - nobody's interested in teasing or tormenting their slave; in fact, nobody's interested in their slave, full stop.

Even so, the system of slavery itself generates teasing and denial, and frequent corporal punishment. A slave serves his owner as she entertains her lovers, acts as a masturbation toy on lonely nights, and spends his waking hours tormented by her stocking-clad proximity, all without any chance of sexual gratification - the cage implanted in his groin sees to that - and without any consciousness on her part.

It all seems quite dark, but in the darkness is comfort.

As with most slavery fantasies, the slave need not wrestle with the mixed messages we modern men get about sex; he has orders to touch - and how - and permission to look. The impersonal nature of this particular fantasy goes further. It frees the slave of any expectations to react in a certain way.

Nothing is for him, so it doesn't matter if he's turned on, or bored. She doesn't care if he's staring at her enticing figure, or if his mind is wandering to the kitchen tasks, or if he loves her, or hates her. She doesn't require anything of him, except physical service, and he need never feel guilt again.

Lust, however.....

(Original images found floating around the web. They're so old, I'm assuming they don't belong to anybody. However, if they're yours, then please let me know and I'll link to you, or just delete them.)

Interesting wordpress blog...

Like me, the Horny Time Traveler takes erotic excursions in time, but in his case strictly backwards.Mind you, some of his holiday snaps could come from my own Chaste Britannia.

The perfect SciFi chastity belt...

One of my captioneering friends raised the question; If you had access to SciFi technology, what's your perfect chastity belt?

I want - not a belt - but a stick-on cup, like the devices in my Chastity Planet stories. I'd want a detachable prosthetic, and - beyond that - a range of options for time-locking, including the good old "time-lock runs backwards when you're turned on".

Chastity Planet Episode 4

Here's Chapter 4 of Chastity Planet. It'll make more sense if you start at the first episode of this SF male chastity story.

Mary stood over Tom in just a T-shirt that just reached the tops of her bare thighs. A flush colored the petite blond's cheeks and the fabric around one pert nipple had been pulled to a point. She pushed a hand under his nose and the scent of fresh pussy invaded Tom's nostrils.
With a groan, he latched onto her fingers. The taste lashed through him, stirring up a crazy throbbing inside the chastity cup that made him sway this way and that.
"He's looking broken," said Mary. "I was wanting my first time to be a bit more vigorous."
Brigit's silver sandals appeared next to the blond's neat bare feet. The whip trailed down past her shins. Tom traced the leather tail up to where her hand hung by her side, just beyond the short hem of her slippery mini-dress where so recently he'd nuzzled her red-thatched pussy. He tongued the blond's finger suggestively.
"What about something else?" lilted the redhead. "It seems a shame to be wasting him."
Tom suckled Mary's finger and willed her to opt for a licking. His time in the booths had given him super-human stamina.
"Have a go with the whip," chipped in Deidre, still sprawled on her bed. "You're always on about how men are mean to you, now you can be getting your own back."
Without releasing her finger, Tom swiveled his eyes up to look at Mary's reaction.
The blond set her pointed chin and nodded.
Brigit clapped her hands. "Restraints."
There was a whir from the ceiling and two black cords unwound either side of Tom.
He started to rise. Better another demerit than this.
Brigit put her hands on his bare shoulder. She stooped and fixed him with her green eyes. "Do this for Mary, and we can fuck," she said.
A shudder went down his spine. His hips gave an involuntary twitch, thrusting the dildo into thin air. It might not be the real thing, but if he fucked this beautiful leggy redhead with the prosthetic, then he'd remember it for the rest of his life. He nodded and licked his dry lips.
He stood there dumbly while they clicked cords to his wrist and ankle fetters. Then Brigit brushed a stray carrot-red lock from her forehead and clapped her hands. "Activate Restraints."
The cords retracted into the floor and ceiling, drawing him out into a taut X.
She looked down at him. Her freckled face creased into a grin. "You have no idea how silly you look."
He blushed, but couldn't think of anything to say.
Beyond the tall girl, Deidre wrapped a sheet around herself and padded over. His spread-eagled position let the plump girl look him straight in the eye. "They don’t look so impressive like this." She reached out a pudgy hand and tweaked his nipple.
The pleasure swirled out from the nub of flesh and electrified his entire chest. His buttocks clenched and he heard himself groan.
The three Hibernian girls giggled.
"How do you feel?" asked Mary.
"Turned on," he mumbled. "So turned on."
The blonde scowled. "I think you're supposed to be wracked with fear."
Brigit leant over her friend's shoulder. "I have an idea. Deidre? Why don't you be giving him his reward?"
"Reward? Oh..." She reached for her signet ring.
A chime sounded from the chastity cup. The material around the head of Tom's penis squirmed. He hunched over but couldn't quite see anything beyond the artificial penis. Even so, he knew that the slit had dilated, exposing the very tip of his real cock.
"Make way!" said Brigit. She knelt at his feet. Her long fingers reached out beyond the fake erection and cupped Tom's groin.
Mary all but exploded. "What in God's Name are you doing?"
The redhead laughed. "He'll not be so brave once he's had his climax." There was a new sensation inside Tom's chastity belt... no, not inside, but coming from the outside; the Hibernian girl's finger rubbing the very slit of his cock, threatening to drain away the warm bath of lust that kept him insulated from the shame, discomfort and pain.

More here...

Money off shipping for "The Chastity Belt"

Remember Casandra from my college chastity novel, "The Chastity Belt"?

I always rather imagined her as a young Julie Andrews. Some of the screencaps from the film Darling Lili capture that strangely stiff eroticism I had in mind. Also, that odd robust vulnerability.

Which reminds me, if you fancy a hard copy, then now's a good time to treat yourself. Enter "FREEMAILUK305", and you'll get £2.99 off the shipping cost.

Amazing nudes...

There's this photographer called Mearle, and he has a blog full of amazing nudes...

A slave's life...

The Steam Room

Original picture lifted from http://filmnoirphotos.blogspot.com/

Through the eye of the chastity belt

It's interesting. Almost any erotic image can be reimagined with a different dynamic, simply by picturing oneself in the picture but in a chastity belt.

For example:Very much an Orientalist picture: it's the Exotic East, an African slave pampers a languid harem inmate.

Now imagine that this is seen from your point of view, and that you're waiting patiently to serve your mistress, a chastity belt welded around your loins.

And perhaps once mistress is done, you and the handmaid share a cell. You can't see it, but she's also locked into a chastity belt. However, she can get off, if only you tease her nipples for long enough.

Secret Lover

Pre Raphaelite Chastity Caption

(updated)

Erotic Caption...

Another image lifted from Britni...

(Double click for full size.)

Roman Slavery

Rather too many uncage penises in this sequence for me, but imagine being the chaste male slave of this lady....

The Joy of Part-time Slavery: #1 Your femdom fantasy isn't the real you

OK, well, probably not the Real You.

(I've introspected and researched enough to get the answers I need. Now I'm going to finish up by setting them out here, partly to see if they make sense, and partly because I wish somebody had told me this stuff when I was younger. I'm going to talk about the sub side of femdom only, since that is what I've experienced, and I'm not going to cite sources, though go ahead and comment if you want me to link to books etc.

So, here we go....)

I think most of us fantasise about femdom long before we ever seek it out, and these fantasies have roots in the time our sexuality emerged, when they simultaneously disturbed and enticed us: disturbed because we often imagined being on the receiving end of evil; enticed, so it turns out, in part because they disturbed us. It also helped that they were easy and, yes, safe.

Guess what? The primitive part of our brain can't tell the difference between real and pretend. When we see a horror film, we really do experience fear. We keep going back because, since we consciously know we're safe, we can enjoy the mental arousal triggered by the rush of fight/fly brain chemicals.

In the same way, sexual fantasies that disturb, scare or shock us also arouse us mentally. Some people get hooked just on this: transgression. It's why Internet porn addicts download more and more extreme material. They've no real interest in sex with deceased donkeys for its own sake, but the buzz gets them off, this time. (Next time, the sheep will have to watch...)

Most of us, though, just find that dark fantasies have the edge over romantic or cosy ones. Being tortured by the class bitch is so much more interesting to imagine than necking with a girl we like--

--it's also easier to imagine. Apart from a lucky - or tragic - few, most teenage boys have to wait a horrible long time before they have the experience with which to build a vanilla fantasy. Girls are just unknown territory. How would a seduction go? What would it feel like to touch her? What would she say? What would she be like naked?

In femdom fantasies, the girl often remains fully clothed. The action stays in the easy-to-imagine realm of torture and restraint - it's on TV daily, and you just have to watch Batman or the Addams Family to pick up a few props. Better yet, the intimacy is mostly that of the lash - and we've all felt pain.

It's also a safe fantasy... no, really... it's an escape from that unbearable emotional longing for love, and it doesn't set you up for a fall. Realistically, the class bitch isn't going to tie you to the school railings and torture you with crocodile clips (sorry!), but if you allow yourself to imagine that the unattainable girl in the next desk might actually kiss you... well, then you'll start obsessing about how to make it happen, and bitter experience suggests you'll only get hurt. And, if you do succeed - what if you upset her or come in your pants!?! RUN!!!

Femdom fantasies are also safe because they resolve all the mixed messages we get about women and heterosexuality:

• "Raw female sexuality is the ultimate beauty, but women's experience of sex is tangled with emotions."
• "The only appropriate sexual partner is a strong woman, but strong women don't just give into a man's lust."
• "Desire is good, but selfish gratification is bad."
• "Women can and should demand satisfaction, but a woman who does things for you may be doing it because she feels she has to. (Shame on you)."
• "Women should be assertive, but a man should dread being a bully above all else."
• "The female orgasm is all powerful, but you can never tell whether she's faking it for your sake."

How much safer to imagine the girl in control, making you manfully earn her favours through pain and humiliation!

So, as soon as the arrow of our hormones points at the fairer sex, we start wrapping them in protective femdom fantasies, and then we masturbate, and the brief satisfaction triggers a chemical longing for more of the same. Eventually, we train our brains to skip a link, and the evil of femdom becomes erotic...

...and it feels good. (I wouldn't change it for the world.)

Looking back, your inner slave (I'll use this as shorthand from now on) is not the Real You. It's just a refuge you built in order to cope with being a horny, inexperienced, stressed-out teenager. You probably also vanished into first person shooters for hours on end, but you didn't rush off to join the Marines, did you?

The truth is, for most of us the vanilla world has much more to offer than that of consensual full-time slavery. The parts of our brain that are not wallowing in a musky dungeon are wired for building, creating, and companioning... for earning a very broad satisfaction with our lives, for carving a place in this generation and contributing one way or another to the next. (This is a good thing, because full-time femdom women are probably thin on the ground; but I'll come to that in another post.)

However, your Inner Slave is still real and part of you - try and see how long you can ignore it for - so what do you do about it?

To be continued...

Evening in Aqua Sulis

The cymbals clash. Electric stringed instruments I still don’t recognize twang, drums rumble, setting up a vibration in my chastity belt.

The Roman girls throw overhead claps and dance. Long gowns flounce around many-hued legs, some long, some short and curvy, all smooth as marble.

It's like being at a toga party, but the gowns are richer and wilder – shimmering silks and printed cottons - and the girls actually do all chatter in Latin as they crowd around the bar where male slaves scurry to fill their drinking cups.

If you watch carefully, you'll catch a flash of steel beneath the men's short-hemmed tunics. Welded on steel neuters their groins, just as it does mine.

This is Aqua Sulis.

It should be the English town of Bath, but in this alternate Earth, both the Roman Empire and real chattel slavery flourish. The spa town is dedicated to Minerva, the virgin goddess, so that long ago it was decreed no penis should blight its streets.

When it became illegal to castrate a slave – in these days of universal Pax Romana, such men are no longer prisoners of war, but self-bonded for a fixed term of years – the city authorities instead "gelded" their much-needed male workers with steel cages.

Cunning tavern keepers quickly learned they could earn extra money by renting out chaste young men to visiting ladies who were less than chaste.

Then, a decade ago, the railroad connected Londinium with Aqua Sulis, and the Virgin Goddess's city became the fleshpot for debauched young women freed of parental control thanks to the Empire's belated industrial revolution.

Now, divorcees come in carriage-loads to wash away the stain of the one arranged marriage owed to their parents. More accurately, they have the marriage licked away by the tongues of slaves, willing or unwilling – they need not care which. And, if their failed alliance has left them loaded with anger, where better to shed it, but on the back and buttocks of an amusingly helpless male, who no doubt would be just the same as the despised ex-husband... were he not writhing under the lash.

Angry women, though, are the minority. For most, the attraction is more innocent. This is the place where families send their wayward daughters to take the waters so they can also take their pleasure and still return virtue technically intact, and the place where single girls and women come - in all sense of the word- because they can.

In this walled city, a Roman Citizen of the gentler sex can drink wine until the world spins, and weave a giggling path by gaslight back to her inn, with no thought of danger from stray males. Better yet, if she has a denarius or two, she can satisfy her every desire, with no risk of disease or pregnancy.

If this is not what nature intended for women, then it is surely what they deserve.

The music stops and this week's mistress sways towards me, red hair wild from the dancing, every swing of her hip a dripping with new sensuality. Without a word, she strides past and I follow her out into the warm summer night.

She turns off into an alley, then presses into wall and simply sheds her gown. Pale skin flashes in the moonlight. The darkness mutes her russet curls, but I know what to do. I kneel on the rough cobbles and crane my head back to kiss her vulva.

The music swells from the tavern, and her hands press the back of my head. My tongue parts her pubic hair and I taste salty sex.

Above me, she gasps, and the sound echoes inside my chastity belt, setting my penis throbbing hopelessly against its steel prison.

Whoops - wrong link for free download

Sorry folks, here's the actual link for the free download of my previously properly published chastity novel....