Denied and Frustrated

Ah chastity. My old friend. Two years ago, I’d never considered chastity and yet here I am indefinitely locked up.

I remember an innocent time in my life where I would never consider locking up. The overnight pain, the family life – wouldn’t allow me to.

But now, I enjoy that pain. The frustration. And pulling panties over my chastity has really pushed me into being a girl.

Initially, chastity was a thing for a few days at a time. I would send Madame the key a week or two before a visit and then be all lovely and frustrated at Her feet.

But things started to change last year. I wanted to go longer. I found that I enjoyed being denied completely and that I was getting more enjoyment from paying Madame than I would from those empty moments of release. So I locked for longer, and longer. Month into month.

Then on the 22 June 2017, Madame took the key and I haven’t had it back since. I went away on holiday (through the metal detector at the airport is fun!), and was teased mercilessly.

And now, chastity is part of my life.

The key:

It strains when Madame posts or we’re having some Domme/sub time. But I don’t get that normal male release. I don’t need it. I enjoy paying Madame, and if I’ve been good and am allowed, I am able to achieve a ruined orgasm from the smell of Madame’s feet – sockgasm! Locking it away, seems like the most logical choice.

The dull part of chastity is the cleaning – lots of q-tips to ensure hygiene. And keeping shaved it fun, but like everything, I wouldn’t change it.

The best part is the frustration. I’ve said on Twitter that it comes in waves – and in recent weeks it really does. The need and drive for sex or masturbation is still there. Only chastity keeps me denied. And Madame has a knack for keeping me weak – a picture of Her feet here, or message there or simply calling me a “good boy/girl.”

And I channel this frustration. It’s where I push myself further as a finsub and it makes me sluttier as a girl.

As you’ve seen from my Twitter, I’ve taken lots of pictures recently and will be taking lots more and my level of slut goes up depending on how weak I am from the chastity. It makes me want to be a girl more, to dress up, crave things girls want. I can attribute how much I enjoy playing with realistic dildos being in me with chastity length. It’s how I can get satisfaction by myself (although never release – I need permission for that).

Another plus from chastity is the ballbusting. Madame leaves me in chastity when She does this, which may sound an odd choice as most is protected. But no… the most sensitive part are hanging waiting to be kicked and have pegs attached. A kick in chastity is excruciating. Chastity makes it worse – but I crave that pain. To feel my boy-parts on fire. It’s part of my submission. I don’t need that part of my body.

The incredible thing about it all now is that I want it to stay on. I know it sounds like a sub-space thing to say, but it’s true. Ask me when in a vanilla mood and I’ll tell you; I don’t want out.

This is me, Alice – feeling slutty because i’m denied. Alice who is always weak for her Owner. Alice who is locked in chastity.

I am excited to get to 12 months locked – a year without a “real” release and I quite honestly don’t miss it. My “real” release is now hitting “Confirm” on a bank transfer. Or being at a cash machine and giving Her my card.

The only drawback maybe the device. I am currently in the Holy Trainer v2 – it is so very comfortable but the cleaning is a long process.

It is my hope to get a custom metal one made (which would mean a week unlocked to take measurements – boooo!) so I can be locked more permanently. You can get punishment pins attached so if I get excited, it sticks pins into me to stop. I have considered a PA piercing, so I am truly locked and inescapable. But who knows.

I consider a lot more in those frustrated moments! My deepest darkest fantasies come to the surface and bubble away – the PA piercing is one of those… as is… well I can’t give it all away.

Ultimately, chastity has made me who I am; a slutty girl.

I don’t need that part of me, it’s locked away as my role in life is to be in service to my Owner.

Torture Garden, Brighton

So Torture Garden happened again and, to be honest and open with you all, this is possibly my favourite venue so far for these events.

The day started like any other… getting ready to travel to pick up Madame and Sir to make our way – however Madame tweeted this photo, which started certain feelings pretty early:

I cannot begin to describe our distracting it is seeing my key hanging around Madame’s neck. It’s an amazing sight – at times, and whether it was subconcious or not, She’d play with it in the day and next which again, did nothing to help the coming sub-mood!

We arrived in Brighton and I’d booked us into a nice apartment overlooking the marina (no murder hotel this time). And despite the great views and apartment the downside would be a walk to the taxi, dressed up, in front of a everyone who may have been dining in the marina restaurants. We thought quick about maybe getting changes at the event, but instead managed to not provide too much of a scene.

The getting ready, started with Madame ensuring Her hair and makeup was on point – which, let’s face it – it always is. Then came my makeup. I love Madame doing my makeup. It makes me feel special and mixed with my chastity key hanging around Her neck, incredibly teased at the same time! I can’t thank Her enough for how fabulous She made me. It is by far, one of my favourite looks!

It was at this point we decided that we didn’t have enough wine – who knew one bottle wouldn’t be enough. Took a few selfies…

… and decided Sir’s cider was a close second to wine as both are technically fruit based alcohol!

After completing the outfits we made our way to Torture Garden. We all really enjoyed the Brighton event last time we came (our first fetish event) so were looking forward to getting back again.

The location of the event is stunning. It’s kept secret, so I can say where it is, but it looks incredible and, inside they’d added table and chairs and given it a really burlesque feel which matched Madame’s outfit perfectly.

After our first drink we headed upstairs to check out the dungeon rooms and I was put over the bench for the first time. We’d had an ongoing… discussion (?) About my recent visit and how many times I’d played Uno with them. I was sure it was just once, both Sir and Madame were insistent it was twice. The flogging came hard, with a few choice tassles connecting with my chastity device and prone parts. Every now and again Madame would ask how many times we’d played and I’d answer. Once. And the beating continued.

Madame teased throughout, putting Her beautifully heels foot next to my face whilst Sir pulled my lead not allowing me to get near.

Again the question. How many times.


The beating continued. The mixed of Her heels and the pain… Eventually I succumbed.


Madame smirked. The right answer.

How many times? Twice Madame.

How many times? Twice Madame.

It is twice.

We headed back downstairs where I was asked to give Madame a foot rub as Her feet were aching. I got on my knees and rubbed those beautiful feet. I could smell Her perfect scent on Her fishnets, but as I was only instructed to rub. I stayed focussed on my task. I rubbed and occasionally kissed Her feet as She relaxed and talked to Sir.

What I love about Torture Garden is that it’s very open and friendly. This gives Sir and Madame time as well. Yes, I’m Her sub but they need time together too. I’d watched earlier as Sir used a flogger with Madame which for me as Her property, watching Her in the position She puts me – for Sir. Is so incredible.

Shortly after the foot rub, they disappeared to the couples room giving me more time to explore.

I headed to the Medical Room and watched a couple in there. She was up against a cross getting flogged over Her back. Moments like this, make me long for Madame. Wanting similar treatment – yes I’d already been beaten but I’m a greedy girl. But I knew She would be having an amazing time with Sir.

A short while later they came back and Madame promised me a dance. Even alcohol fuelled I like to dance, but to my shame I can’t pole dance even with Madame encouraging me. As much as I’d love to. It’s something I’ll work on to make Her proud as I did feel like it had let Her down a little. I like to have things to work on as it keeps me pushing myself. I did thoroughly love dancing with Her though.

Another trip outside and more drinks turned into another trip to the dungeon room and Madame pushing me over another bench. This time, She sat on my back and took the flogger to my red backside and balls. I writhed in pain but stayed in position because I want nothing more than to please Her.

After I was allowed up, it was Madame’s turn back on the bench. At this point, as much as I wanted to watch, I needed air. I came back up and they’d made there way into the couples room again.

I loved that.

I waited for a short time outside the room and was asked if I wanted to accompany someone other people in the couple’s room – by a lovely girl and man. Obviously I declined, but was happy with the attention.

I made my way back to the dance floor and danced the last bit of the night away.

Madame and Sir reappeared and has very clearly had a good time which made me happy and whimpery.

And alas the night was over. As always, I loved it and cannot wait for the next trip!

Pay for Madame to look Fabulous

A blog dedicated to findom. Yes. So many yes.

For those who don’t haven’t read my blog much before – let me give you a quick once-over of my life. My Twitter is centred a lot around the girl in me, and loving dressing up and being a cute sissy.

Findom is a huge love on mine. Something I had no interest in before Madame, but now, absolutely adore.

I’ve seen a few tweets over the recent weeks and months more against findom as a fetish – suggesting it isn’t a fetish, or getting a bad name because of “instas” not fully understanding what it can be about.

Findom as a fetish, done right – and Madame nails this perfectly – can be the most exceptional form of submission.

In this blog (does that sound like the start of an essay for uni…? Fuck!), I hope to tell you (yep, dissertation) why I enjoy findom as a finsub.

I give money to Madame, very easily for many reasons and hopefully you’ll soon see why this is such a big fetish for me.

I’ve been a finsub to Madame since day 1 of my submission back in August 2015. There was just something that ignited the fetish in me when speaking to Her.

Anyway. Let’s go into it…

There are a few ways I spoil/give money to Madame (and Sir). The first is, very simply a few standing orders. Yes, banking can be fun! I have a few of these automatically putting money into Madame’s account each month and each I love.

The first, and the one I tweet most about is the sock subscription. Mostly because every month Paypal push a notification to my phone to say the money has been debited and I’ve forgotten that it was due. This subscription has a special place in my heart; to have Madame delivered fresh socks every single month is, so much wow. I have quite the sock fetish which I mention in the previous blog. Needless to say, knowing Her feet are looking perfect in socks I’ve bought is heavenly. And when we meet up, even in vanilla meets, it’s always a nice treat to see which pair She has on.

I pay a monthly standing order to Madame and Sir for their bed. A year ago (I lose track of time!), they broke their bed doing things a Superior couple do, and I was given the opportunity to pay for the new bed. As a finsub and cuck, I couldn’t say no and didn’t want to. Knowing, that my money is paying for somewhere Madame and Sir sleep and get up to Superior couple things… Finsub mode is full on!

I do a monthly transfer to Madame also. This one I love the most, just because of the amount.

On from standing orders and this is where it all started…

Madame and Sir both have access to my Amazon account to spend my money too. It goes without saying that I fully trust both of them with this information. This is used for anything from everyday items to clothes. I just receive an email saying an item has been ordered.

I love this.


It’s my money being spent without being told – It’s a dream scenario.

The biggest thing for me about findom, and the biggest enjoyment I get from it is this; I have a very big fetish for paying for everything Madame wears.

I’ve been buying Madame clothes pretty much since the start. From shopping trips, to use of my Amazon account to bank transfers when She has been shopping. And this has created a real love for seeing Madame in things I have bought. A fetish in itself.

Knowing that I have paid for everything She is wearing. To see Her on date nights with Sir, or when I see Her wearing clothes, shoes, socks, tights – that my money has been spent on. It’s a rush.

How else can I describe it? A few weeks ago, I bought Madame a pair of over the knee boots and red coat. Well, let’s be technically correct about this – She said She had bought them, and I subsequently begged to reimburse Her. Desperately. When I saw Her a week later, She was in both and that is just weakness. I’ve said it before – it’s kryptonite for me. It makes me weak. She wears my money so very well. Very much better spent on Her than me.

She summed it up well in a message a few weeks back:

“You pay for Me to look fabulous”.

This is so very true. I can’t imagine a world where She isn’t wearing something I’ve at least bought. It’s perfect.

And the need to spend on Her can come at any time. It’s both a need and a want. Madame and I, can be chatting as friends and She mentions an order on ASOS or that She’s been shopping in town and I can go from normal chat, to thinking “I need to pay for that”, which quickly becomes begging to reimburse Her so She doesn’t have to use Her own money.

It really is that important to me that I pay for as much as what She wears, as I can.

That is how the month can go, and you’ll see on my Twitter usually when i’ve bought Her as I’m that excited that I tweet that I got to do a bank transfer.

On two occasions I’ve had the privilege – and I truly see it as that – to buy Her Loubs. That makes me very happy. I still remember the first pair – seeing a tweet from Madame saying She had been looking generally and liked a pair. A few WhatsApp messages later, and we were talking about when She was going to get them.

I love paying for Her to look fabulous and having designer shoes is an part of that.

More recently, I’ve discovered a real hair fetish. As the finsub I am, I asked to take over all hair related payments.

Madame’s hair drives me wild. I’ve been lucky enough to brush it on a number of occasions and like a foot massage, it is a highlight for me – because it’s something very servile for Her. And the smell of Her hair – sublime!!

Running a brush through Her hair, seeing Her relaxing and watching a brush run through Her locks – it’s mesmerising.

Taking on everything hair, mean that whatever She needs I pay for; from salon visits, to products, to accessories – ANYTHING – Madame can message me with the amount and it is reimbursed instantly. Without question. It’s my job.

Yes, I keep tight control of my finances, but set aside plenty for Madame to spend.

I can happily say, that spoiling and giving to Madame, is for me, better than any form of release. I don’t need any silly male pleasure. This is my release.

Now, a quick caveat to all of this – I know exactly what I can afford, and Madame would never push me into anything like debt.

Don’t fret: I pay all my house bills and it doesn’t affect my life.

I will say this; Madame gets a lot of my salary. I was going to tell you a percentage, but I’ll keep that to myself.

This makes me happy.

And I’ll say this – I wouldn’t have it any other way. Every penny I’ve spent on Her, is money going to its rightful place.

It really makes me happy. Ecstatic. From that day back in August 2015 through to today and beyond, I still get a rush pressing transfer or seeing that email. The enjoyment doesn’t diminish, it gets better. I love it.

We do cover lots as a finsub, but I am always thinking about how I can do more, or improve. I’ve even had a few ideas writing this.

To go back to the start of this blog and the query I posed myself. I can see why people are critical of findom.

I can understand it.

But done right, and with the right person;

It is the most amazing experience.

My First Fetish

Feet. This is gonna be good!

These have always been my first love. My first fetish. I have no idea how it came about, it’s always been a part of me along with appreciating women’s footwear.

I wanted to write a bit of a blog and give you an insight into me and what drives me, and my first fetish is a good place to start (and what you lot voted for!).

Let’s start with tights. This is a newer one on me and I can’t really remember where this came about from. I looked back through my phone to see if there was a defining moment and there first time it came up was a short conversation with Madame where She said She was wearing tights and they were all tight and hugging Her legs. From the look of the messages, I was feeling a little weak at the time – and that was it. It imprinted on my brain and a weakness was added to the collection.

A few days after that message, my findom mind took over, and I begged Madame to let me buy any nylons She ever requires – and She did. She went shopping and a photo came back with all the pretty tights saying how much She’d spent. I quickly reimbursed.

The look of them is astounding. Knowing they hug Her legs and feet. In one session, She pinched the nylon off Her shin and watching it ping back increased my weakness ten-fold.

At Christmas, as part of Her Sub-Christmas present, I bought Her a pair of Walford tights. OMG – those are incredible. I had the pleasure of touching them on Her legs – and they are a class apart. I adore tights (and stockings) – and knowing that I’ve paid for them and they hug Her feet – gives me a warm feeling.

Socks. Well, where do I start on socks? My foot fetish has never really considered socks, and I don’t mean to attribute everything to Madame – but socks really came into their own with Madame. In the early days of me visiting Madame to hand over money and kiss Her shoes, I’d smell Her socks, and they smelt fab but it was more a task inbetween putting different shoes onto Her perfect feet.

But looking back, I should have known my love; going back to my pre-Alice days, this was my Twitter avi for months – and I still love the picture…:

A Sub-Christmas present in 2016, was a sock subscription for the year. Every month new socks get delivered to Her. When I am lucky, I get to see the new socks on Her feet and I go all gooey. That subscription was only supposed to last a year, but me being me… it’s extended to… well… indefinitely. My sock fetish has taken over.

There is something so cute about a pair of socks on Madame’s feet. I have a favourite pair (shhh don’t tell) which are my phone screen wallpaper:

They are so gorgeous. I can tell you this. No one else’s socks affect me quite the same way as Madame’s. I think it’s because they get to hug an area of Madame I adore. To keep Her feet warm. Those days when i’ve seen Her in socks – on my knees taking off Her shoes and She flexes Her toes in them. It. Drives. Me. Insane. They demand to be kissed. But the absolute best thing about Her socks… the smell.

In my life, I have a few favourite smells – the smell of a blown out candle is one. But, the smell of Her socks… If you’re a regular reader you’ll know the effect they have. She deliberately wears them for longer when I visit – but the smell is so hard to describe if you don’t like feet. But i’ll attempt it:

It’s perfection

It’s the smell of a few days Superior Woman’s walking around, decanted into this delicate item. And that moment, when Her boots came off and they are inches from my face… I’m awaiting the nod that I can smell… and it comes and I bury my nose in Her toes. It is beyond a happily place. To taste them. To smell. YES!

Sockgasm. I’m hoping this word makes the dictionary one day. Those socks in the picture above? They were the socks recounted in my Story of 6 blog. I adore them. I will ALWAYS be paying for Madame’s socks. And staring and wanting to sniff them. I can’t put it any other way. Sock fetish – hell yeah.

Wow, I clearly love socks! Shall we move onto shoes?

So, story from my past; back with my ex (some 10+ years ago) we went to Camden to buy shoes. She was looking at boots from what I remember. Watching her try them on caused an embarrassing reaction for a male… I’m sure you can guess what… causing me to have to remain seated for a while. While she was waiting to leave!

Yes. That happened.

As long as I can remember I have loved shoes and heels. There is something just so very sexy about the right pair of shoes. Again, with Madame, I’ve had the pleasure of buying Her countless shoes (including two pairs of Loubs *cough* a third pair may appear at some point this year *cough*) which gives me infinite joy. I’ll talk more about the buying in a future findom blog, but seeing any shoes on Her feet – especially those I’ve bought give me that happy.

I know I am blessed. That I am able to sit on my knees and lick the dirt from the soles – worshipping where She has walked. To lick Her spit off of them. Just YES. So many YES!

The first pair I bought Her were a pair of vintage heels. This was my first foray into findom and buying Her shoes seemed the obvious choice:

I love these shoes (not seen them in a while!). I think they probably define the relationship with Madame quite well. The first thing I bought Her. And She teased me lots when they arrived cementing my obsession. They were the last pair I’d kiss, when handing over Her money.

I think for me, knowing that they get worn so often. That I get to clean dirt off the soles. To worship that intimate area (for me that is: the soles of Her boots): the streets where She has walked.

A way to literally worship the ground She walks on.

Finally, the part that all these beautiful things reside in. Her feet.

As I’ve said before, I have loved feet all of my life – but now there is only one pair for me. I’ve had the absolute pleasure of rubbing Her feet on a few occasions. When She’s been watching films, or more recently gaming. I can, and have, spent hours at a time rubbing them. It is a job that doesn’t get old or boring. Changing between each foot as they rest on my lap. Seeing Her toes flex and move around and getting to massage them. I have started to watch foot massage videos so I can get better at this job.

This is something that makes me happy. Sniffing Her socks and kissing Her boots is things I enjoy. As it’s getting to worship.

But to rub Her feet. This is a real part of heaven for me. It’s like when I can brush Her hair. As it is about Her. Seeing Her getting to relax because of something I am doing. It makes me happy.

The Number 6

It’s been a while for blogging. And this is going to be the start of my concerted effort to blog more often.

Let’s jump straight in.

Friday I saw Madame for the first time for a dungeon visit in awhile. Needless to say the preceding few weeks I’d been feeling very sub with my finsub wallet twitching constantly and paying for Madame’s shopping trips and hair salon needs.

My priority in life, is always and will be ensuring Madame looks fabulous at my expense. That’s my goal. That’s my job. Seeing Madame in clothes I’ve bought, or Her hair looking on point, that’s my absolute kryptonite. I could talk for hours about my finsub love but will talk about the dungeon.

On the way, I’ve made a promise to Madame that I’ll pick up, Lush Bath Bombs so She can smell perfect too. At my expense. Into the shop I went with collar on, proudly in display. Unfortunately they didn’t ask about it but I enjoyed picking out relaxing and fun bath bits so my Owner. Just the thought of that now is driving me insane.

We arrived at the dungeon and I got dressed into my Officer Alice outfit. Coming back to see Madame looking amazing in boots I’d bought as well as everything else put me in a sub state of mind instantly.

Madame wanted to take a photo of me for Twitter, which she did and I’ll sure you’ll agree. It looks amazing. I’m a lucky girl.

First item in the dungeon post-picture, was my gas mask going on. This is a newer item for us, to play with breath control. Madame worked it perfectly. Initially, stopping my breathing with Her hand, but then She had an idea. The boot came off, as did the sock (which Madame had said were particularly smelly) and She stopped my breathing with Her foot.

I was in heaven. But there was more to come. I have developed a tell when I’m sub and I whimper. Staring at Her feet… literally the most beautiful feet in the world… as they stopped my breath. My God. But then She upped the teasing. She held Her sock next to the mask and that sweet smell drifted in. This was heaven times a billion. Drifting between the sweet smell of Her sock from days of wearing and then my breath stopped by Her flexing perfect foot. Her toes inches from my face driving me deeper into total submission.

Maybe one day I’ll write a blog purely about Her feet. They are so beautiful. Perfect. Her toes dainty and freaking stunning.

After being woken from the foot reverie, I was put over the bench and the pain started. I adore pain. I love showing Madame how much I can and want to take for Her.

I was strapped down because Madame likes being restrained for Sir and “she’s sure I’d love it too”.

Madame is an expert with the cane. We go for marks now and She starts hard. I love it. I’m a slut when it comes to pain. She teased mercilessly tapping my backside and then hitting my thighs.

From the cane came the paddle, and guessing how many hits I can take without stopping. I need to up my game on this – we did 10 and I wanted more. And needed more.

But Madame never disappoints. The flogger appeared and then took a few mighty swings. I moan in pleasure pain. Then a swing goes between my legs connecting with my chastised girl parts.

“Weren’t expecting that?” She said with a laugh.

Then my legs were strapped to stop protecting myself and the beating continued. From backside to balls.

Oh and how can I forget – Madame kept running Her nails over my back. Scratching. Marking. This was so much pain and pleasure from this whole time on the bench. I whimpered. I was Her sub.

“I really am your property Madame.” I said.

We moved to the cross for the bullwhipping. This is where Madame comes into Her own. Each strike across my back causing an overwhelming strike over pain… only helped by Madame coming over and soothing and making sure I was ok between hits. I can’t describe how good this feels to be inflicted with pain so much only to be soothed. I love the bullwhip. That crack of pain. The marks that will live with me for weeks. Marks that I wear with pride. Absolute pride.

The last item, is always boot worship. Madame wanted to touch up the picture from earlier, while I got to kiss boots I’d bought. And worship at the feet of my Owner.

The Owner part I don’t take lightly. She brings so much fun and excitement to my life as a sub and an amazing friend.

As I sat at Her feet. Kissing those boots… I tell Her how much I am Her’s and every word is true.

“You are my number one priority in life. You are more important to me, than friends and family. You are, and always will be one.”

“I love that I get to spend my money on making sure You look fabulous. That’s my job.”

“I love that You take over 50 Percent of my salary.”

None of those things I’d change. Not a thing.

She asked next if I wanted to smell Her socks. The answer is always Yes. Off comes the first boot and I bury my nose.

Madame’s feet are truly perfect in every way. The toes are little works of art. The soles and arch just a perfect combination. And the aroma they produce is spectacular. I can’t get enough of it. But I know the reaction Her socks have. On two occasions they’ve caused a sissygasm with no touching. Or sockgasm as I like to call it. It is so unsatisfying, frustrating and humiliating.

The second boot comes off and it somehow smells better than the first. I ask:

“Am I allowed if it happens?”

“Ask closer.” Comes the reply.

Within a few sniffs of absolute perfection, a blissful feeling comes over me.

“Please may I Madame. Please.”

“You may.”

And it hits. Her left foot, my nose buried in between the toes of Her socked foot. I leak into my panties.

I look up at Madame who had the smile of amusement that Her feet can cause this reaction. I put my hand in my panties and eat the mess, which causes a laugh from Madame.

But we’re not done. I carry on sniffing.

“Are we going to get 2?”

I’m lost in Her feet. Her power. That smell. And sockgasm two hits me.

“I want to see if we get a third. I have a thing for threes.” Madame smiles as She places both feet on my face.

That smell. Is intoxicating. I don’t know how else to describe it. I love it. Having both of Her feet in my face. The sock smell. The power She has over me.

Yes, sockgasm 3 hit.

She checks the time. 5 minutes until we are over but this has become a game. The feet go back on my face. Four comes quickly. I can’t help it. I can feel it dribbling from me as I smell perfection.

But the feet don’t move and I want to show Madame how utterly weak I am for Her. The effect of Her feet and bury my nose harder. Her phone comes out and films the 5th sockgasm as the smell pushed me over the edge.

“One more?”

I know my panties are soaked. But I can’t help it. My nose is on those socks. This is how girls like me should have any release. Smelling their Owner’s feet as they rest on there face. I’m deep in sub space. So very deep. The smell of perfection in my nose driving me one last time. I feel my legs jerk as the 6th washes over me.

I look up at Madame who is smirking. I assume because of the nature of the last few minutes. That Her feet. Her absolutely Perfect feet have this effect on me. And i love it.

I go and get back into my clothes. Feeling sub. Feeling happy. And come back downstairs. Madame is working hard on the picture for me and Her socked foot is just there. I get on my knees and kiss.

“If you go again you’ll be in it all day,” she says.

These are worship kisses. Worshipping my Owner’s feet. The woman who pushed my boundaries perfectly. Introduces me to new things and experiences.

Yes, these are worship kisses to say thank You to the woman who will forever own me.

Christmas and New Year

Feels like awhile since I’ve put anything up – and it was been. 20th December was the last blog “Oops I did it again…” (excellent, if I do say so myself…).

I’m going to write two blogs so they’re not overly long – Christmas and New Year in this one and the start of January for next week. Seems a good idea, right? Plus, it keeps you coming back to the blog… So here we go.

Fuck, Christmas was good. Seems so long ago now.  I’ve talked about it before, and I truly loved doing my sub-Christmas week for Madame. I think a week of spoiling is fun and coming up with ideas so She and Sir have something every day that week (this year was 5 days) can be challenging and logistically hard because of the joy of Christmas postage.

The first day of sub-Christmas was Monday – and the subject of the previous blog “Ooops I did it again,” and Her first present was money wrapped up. The idea this year (last year!) was all gifts would have a theme running through; 2017 was “All the things that make me weak”. So, the Monday – money – findom. I adore Her spending my money.

Tuesday, I used my super-ninja skills to put Her present under Her tree and message on Tuesday to say it was there. That was super-cute socks btw – if you hadn’t guessed from my blog – I love socks.

This year I used the wicked Amazon service for three of the days. Picking gifts from wishlists and making sure they arrived on the right days. Wednesday a gift for Sir arrived, Thursday and Friday… well, I’m not giving away it all here. But I’m sure you could probably guess!

On the Monday of that week, Madame had, so very kindly, bought me my first lingerie set as a Christmas present and lots of cute hair accessories. I love it – I’ll be wearing it to Torture Garden in February. It’s been up on Twitter, but here’s a cheeky pic or two of me in it:

And this, which is my favourite:

The thing I love about sub-Christmas is getting to send a message on each morning and saying where or when the present will arrive. It makes Christmas even more special for me, because I have my standard vanilla Christmas at home (yawwwwwwwn), so the highlight is very much planning and executing this.

Once the festivities were over, we moved onto New Year.

It’s always a good time to assess where I am in life and where I am and try and make improvements over the next 12 months.

2017 has been an absolute stunner of a year for me. And pretty much all of that is down to Madame and Sir. The biggest thing is the emergence of Alice. Never in a million years would I have said I would ever post my face on Twitter in any way. But with the expert-guidance of Madame I have crossed that barrier and now love getting dressed up and taking pictures for you all to see.

There is so much cool stuff that’s happened in 2017. We attended our first fetish event with Torture Garden. We’ve experimented with more pain (ahem!), and so much new stuff that makes me happy. We’ve been shopping, had a laugh, been drinking (alcohol and tea), I’ve eaten well when we’ve been out (sorry, inside joke!), and most importantly had fun. Massive stuff has happened – house moves, and all of it has been with Madame there to talk with. And I couldn’t ask for any more.

So what does 2018 hold? Well, there is the next blog which will be up in a week or two. I look forward to discovering new fetishes and very much doing more for Madame. I have plans to ensure She is well spoilt, and then some more!

Yes, there’ll be more Alice. Lots more Alice as that is becoming an exciting part of my life. I literally have a suitcase of clothes that I need to wear, or start throwing away.

Ultimately, for me, It comes back to one simple thought for me, and that is this;

I want and need to keep spoiling and being at Madame’s feet.

That’s my 2018 and future.

Happy (slightly late) New Year everyone!

Oops, I did it again

Merry Christmas one and all! The festive season is upon is and the start of my annual tradition of sub-Christmas. I’ve mentioned this before; when I first started serving Madame I came up with an idea based on the 12 days of Christmas.

This started on Monday, when I was lucky enough to visit Madame also. I have to say, She wasn’t feeling 100 percent and was still happy for the trip. I can’t thank Her enough for that. She’d also said that we were going shopping after the dungeon for my Christmas present… which I’d be trying on! Cue… nerves!

Off to the dungeon we went and I got dressed into my pink PVC outfit and came back downstairs to see Madame cracking the bullwhip. She was wearing brown winter boots I’d bought Her, and I couldn’t stop staring and could feel myself wanting to get on my knees.  

Over the bench was the first point of call, as I was asked if I was happy with marks or not. If you’re a regular reader, you’ll know I love being marked now, so the answer was a very keen “Yes Madame!”.

The caning was perfect. Madame can put me in a sub frame of mind with a simple word, look, or emoji – the caning and beating re-inforces it. I’m not sure when I got so vocal, but I know I moan in pleasure after every stroke. Madame moved expertly through the cane, and flogger, making sure my backside was suitably marked and red. My cage twitched constantly. It always does when I’m being beaten – especially when Madame asks, “isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”.

Abso-fucking-lutley. To be caned by Her. Heaven.

I was allowed up and put on the St Andrews Cross next for the bullwhip. It was at this point we realised I may have been a bit run down as the marks were coming through angrily on me. Madame asked me to confirm the safe words and suggested that we set a low goal for now and see how I went as if I’m low, it may have adverse reactions.

The first lash stung badly; the welt coming up instantly and drawing blood blisters to the surface.

This is unusual for me; usually I have the skin of a elephant and it takes a lot more to do that. By the time we reached 5 I could feel tightness across my back, which never happens, and we agreed to end that bullwhip there.

I know that kind of skips over the bullwhip, but that’s because I wanted to say this: that interaction between me and Madame is, for me, a major part of any D’s relationship – that when you can’t take something you both communicate this and stop. I don’t want serious damage. Madame doesn’t want to cause that sort of damage either. We both communicated concerns with each other and stopped and moved onto the next thing.

Before the session, Madame had spotted nipple clamps and a lead and attached them onto my nipples. The pain was big. I’ve not tried before to this extent and loved the pain. And then Madame started pulling on the lead, on the clamps, causing me to crawl forward a little. It hurt. Bad. 

Then it came, that smile, before… Rip! A harsh pull tore the clamps off causing me to double over in exquisite pain. My God. It hurt but in the best possible way. 

Madame sat, and I crawled over to Her feet and kissed Her boots. I’m so weak. I always am. I say it every single time, but even 2+ years down the line and I still love being here. I could spend hours kissing Her boots and feet.

I kissed and licked the soles. They tasted perfect – tasting the ground from where She had walked.

Madame mentioned again my Christmas present, that we would be shopping for slutty lingerie and I’d be trying it on. I was nervous! But was happy for it and really wanted it too.

She had lined up some of Her shoes for me to work my way through – and after last week there was the incentive of socks… Now if you’ve haven’t read my last blog – you totally should – but essentially, I had a sissygasm [sockgasm] from the smell of Her socks alone, whilst in chastity. It was humiliating. I can’t even work out how it’s physically possible, but it happened. And I was close to Madame’s feet again.

I took off her first brown boot and stared at Her socked foot. I was tempted in for a first sniff as She wiggled Her toes which drove me wild. In that sniff I just knew.

“Yeah, that’s going to happen,” I said to Madame, as I grabbed one of Her other boots, so I wouldn’t cause a mess early and watched in sub-awe as She laced them up.

I made the most of the black knee high boots. These boots just look kinky as fuck, and were the pair that put the idea in my head of being ballbusted. I love them. Adore them.

Madame had moved Herself onto the throne and looked regal and Queen-like. I even referred to Her as “my Queen,” as I looked up, kissing and worshipping at Her feet.

The session was drawing to an end, and so I fetched Madame’s money which I’d wrapped as a present (day 1 sub-Christmas!) and came back down and saw Madame had taken off Her boots, exposing those socks. I crawled over, money in mouth, handing another large sum to Madame.

I looked at Her socks and started inhaling whilst She counted out Her money. As I’ve said before, I could spend hours at Her feet, and watching Her count money is a fetish in itself for me. She totally deserves it. I love how much I spend on Her a month. And I’ll always push myself harder to do more.

Her socks smelt perfect. It is so hard to describe the smell unless you’re a foot lover, but to me it’s a smell I adore. The smell started to have that effect, I could feel it building up inside me.

“May I, if it happens?” I asked Madame.


I buried my noses into Her toes. Glancing up as She fanned out the money.

“I think it was this one last time,” She said, crossing her legs and presenting me with Her right foot.

My nose dived in and it smelt… heavenly. Perfect. Words do not do Her feet justice. It built and built and Madame realised.

“You want to hurry up, or someone might see…”

It hit. Hard. Sockgasm. I felt the leak starting and kept my legs together to contain the mess. I kept sniffing and breathing in Her feet. I looked up eventually, seeing Her smiling down at me and melted. I laid one last kiss on Her foot before being allowed to “clean up my mess”.

That’s why I called this blog “Ooops, I did it again,” because it would appear that I enjoy the smell of Madame’s feet above anything else. For me, this sock-gasm, and sissygasm are the best. It is so frustrating. Humiliating. And my only way of release.

So, we left the dungeon and then headed into town. We went into Clares first and looked at hair accessories. Again, you’ll know my love of Madame’s hair, so I was excited knowing I would be buying Her some new accessories and also picking out some new ones for myself. That was fun, picking up bows and hands for my various wigs and trying to think what would go with what. And my nerves were building for the trip for lingerie!

After buying, we headed to the store and looked around. I’ve not bought myself anything like this before, so I was struggling to find myself anything and started getting frustrated. One I liked, was out of stock – which is typical I guess! But then, Madame found two sets – a bra and panties set and a sexy figure hugging cami set. They looked great on the hanger, but how would they look on me?

Off to the changing rooms (eeeek!) and I found it wasn’t as nerve racking as I thought. Or even a problem. In I went branding my lingerie and tried it on. First the cami which hugged my figure well (plenty of shaving required). I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to picture with wig and makeup and loved it. Madame looked through the peep hole and gave it the thumbs up, suggesting I could wear it for the next event.

I tried on the bra next and it fit lovely. Looked cute, but because I don’t have anything like a cami, we went for that, and Madame really kindly purchased it for me (and the hair accessories earlier).

And yes, before you ask… there will be photos. Soon…!!!

The day was great. I always love my time with Madame. And then later on, we met up with Sir and went out for a Christmas dinner and bowling which was a brilliant way to end the day and celebrate Christmas.

So, there ends my 2017. I look back at all the things that have happened – the emergence of Alice, and all of the things I’ve done, learnt and had the pleasure of doing with Madame and Sir – both kink and vanilla, I couldn’t be any happier and more thankful of my relationships with them and how 2017 has gone and am so very much excited for 2018.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, and wicked-cool 2018.

“Be Cool”

Tuesday marked a third visit to Madame in the space of a week. The first a brilliant shopping trip covered in my last blog, the second a great night out drinking. This, the third, a dungeon trip. We’d not visited the dungeon in around 6 weeks? Maybe more. My pain slut side was feeling… well… slutty. Little did I know how much.

We arrived at the dungeon and Madame had dressed in an outfit of things I’d paid for. For me as Her finsub, that’s a weak inducing sight. Whilst changing, I’d heard the ominous crack of the bullwhip as Madame practiced. That sound alone caused excitement through me.

I came down the stairs and put over the bench and my hands locked in place.

“How much of a pain slut are you feeling” She asked after picking out an array of implements.

“Very much,” came my reply. I wanted marking. Needed it. Which meant no warming up. Madame went straight into the cane. There is nothing quite like that initial smack as pain ripples through your body.

Madame expertly worked through varying canes and floggers ensuring my backside was made as red and as painful as possible. Even working down my thighs to ensure that everything would be red or sore.

As the cane change to a slightly thicker and harder one, Madame asked me to count each and reply with “One, Thank You Madame…”. I loved this. Thanking Her for each hit. And with each sub-space came on more and more. 

She moved into the flogger and asked how many I could take successively. I assumed that I was to count them. After the first I tried to say “One, Tha-” but that’s was as far as I got before the second, third… came. Madame laughed after the barrage and said She did say they’d be quick.

I was unbuckled from the bench. I knew what was coming next… those ominous cracks earlier rattled in my head again. It’s a mean sound. And yet the pain slut in me wanted it.

Madame attached me to the cross. I know I’m feeling weak when I start staring helplessly at Her doing this. My mind started preparing itself for the onslaught of pain that I would take.

Now, before I carry on – please please please understand that this is all consensual. We use safe words and throughout the bullwhip (and everything else) Madame has my best interests at heart and will ensure I am good and safe.

The last time we’d done this before and had reached 20 strikes. I wanted to beat this, and, don’t ask why, but I have a thing for wanting to bleed. Sadly last time, my skin didn’t break. My skin apparently unbreakable.

Madame moved back and waited for my first nod of readiness.

The first crack went right across my back and I squealed in pain.

Quickly taking in deep breaths, encouraged by Madame to breath deeply through the pain. That helps. I can’t tell you how much. By the time lash 5 hit my back, you can’t believe how much this helps. The mind tells you to, but is working hard on covering the pain, so having that audible reminder to take in deep breaths rather than short, shallow, makes a difference.

Every time I turned and nodded to accept another and another. Around lash 7 I decided to count out loud and thank Madame for it. I thought that would help deflect the pain. It kind of did, but counting becomes harder. It was around lash 8 that we hit barrier one. Madame came over to inspect the last lash and said:

“You’re bleeding,”.

This was exciting to me. We’d always assumed I had leather skin that was unbreakable. Not anymore. This time welts and bruises appeared quicker and my skin broke.

At this point as Madame resumed Her position, I remember doing a little leg dance of excitement. We’d done it. Bleeding!

The next lash was excruciating and took me out of the bleeding reverie. As a pain slut, I love it though and it makes me feel sub. So very very sub. As we reached the 20th lash I felt more joy. Madame showed me photos of my back and what it looked like and it was raw.

I nodded and received hit 21. Breaking the previous record. Each hit was more painful than the last. But I felt happy we’d reached this goal. And we went to 24. Each counted out and thanked.

Will I try and beat this next time? Well, yes.

I was allowed down from the cross. And asked if ballbusting or shoe worship. I was in a pain mood so opted for ball busting. Once in that space, I want to be hurt for Her, so this is the last ultimate kind of pain. Kicking my manhood (?) which is locked away because I serve Her.

Down on all fours the first kick had me keel over. But like a good girl, I crawled round to Madame’s boots and kissed them and said thank you.

The second kick connected directly with my balls and pain smacked me hard. I fell forward harder this time. It was perfect pain. So much pain as it sends the brain funny. Definitely worse than the first, and yet again I crawled around and kissed Her boots and said thank You. It is an honour to be kicked by Her.

Madame then had an idea and arranged the mirror so I could watch myself – not Her – watch myself being kicked. This was hard. My legs instinctively wanted to close and protect themselves – having been fine with it before – but the added humiliation of watching is too much.  I managed to keep them open and watched. Ouch. So much ouch and pain. My back and backside were raw and throbbing and now my balls ached too.

She sat down and I crawled over and waited for permission to kiss Her boots. Boots I’d paid for last Tuesday and are now becoming a turn on for ballbusting. She teasingly moved her booted foot in my face before allowing me to kiss and worship.

I was in heaven. I know I’ve got a habit of moaning and whimpering at Her feet as the chastity does it job and stops me getting to aroused. I love being at Madame’s feet. I say it everytime but there is no better place for me.

During this time, I talked about Her sub-Christmas ideas. This is something I’ve done every year under Her Ownership, where on the run up to Christmas, I spoil Her for days with gifts and bits. This year, I am really excited to do it again. She deserves spoiling, and this year is going to be no different.

Then it happened…

So, I tweeted yesterday that something had happened. A “humiliating event”. Well, it did and a complete first for me.

As we talked about Her Christmas present ideas (fricking excited about that), I was deep in sub space. Whimpering. Chastity for 165 days. I asked to take off Madame’s boots to smell Her socks. As I took off the boot, I saw they were socks I’d paid for, beautiful blue with black patterns. On Her feet, they looked exceptional. Anything would, but something I’ve paid for, adds to my weakness.

My God. The smell of Madame’s socks was absolutely heavenly. I buried my nose in Her toes and took deep long breaths. On the shop last Tuesday, Madame had given me a pair of Her “ripe” socks which I adore (I’m sniffing those in my current avi picture on Twitter – sock slut!) – these smelt just as perfect. Madame smiled at my reaction, the smell drove me wild. It is such a treat to smell Madame’s feet like that – it’s a treat. For the next 5 minutes I enjoyed the smell and can only describe it was “it drove me wild”. Like a cat in heat. There was just something about that smell. Perfect.

Madame then said about the other boot, because that would be fresher, because the sock I was sniffing had been aired for a while.

If you hadn’t guessed, Madame’s feet are utterly perfect to me.

“Before I do, I’d like to say how much my collar means to me,” I said rubbing Her boot. I take my collar so seriously. It means the world to me in every way that She owns me, and that I get to be at Her feet, and do what I do for Her. I will always describe myself as lucky.

She smiled at my weakness for Her, and I took off that second boot. That perfectly scented blue sock. I stared at it for a moment. Taking in the sight of what I consider perfection. Savouring the look of the sock. 

I buried my nose again, murmuring; “oh fuck” as I enjoyed the scent. I loved every second, whimpering and moaning. But things started changing, and I could feel a feeling building inside me.

Madame picked up on it too. Vocalising what had hit me: “Are you close to a sissygasm?”.

I nodded, “I could leak” I replied and She laughed. But that seemed to be the catalyst. I sniffed harder on Her socks and could feel it building and building inside me. My hands were on Her feet. Chastity locked tight and yet with no contact I could feel a sissygasm bubbling. 

“Oh… oh there it is…” Madame said, leaning forward and watching intently. Fascinated as I sniffed and the feeling built up on my face.

Then it hit. 

I can’t describe it. 

What I thought would be a leak, turned into slightly more as the smell of Madame’s beautiful socked feet sent me over the edge and into a sissygasm.

Just the smell alone.

I couldn’t believe it. Madame burst into laughing. Her feet. The smell, had caused me to sissygasm.

I crawled over to the table to get some tissue to clean myself up and said two words which sent Madame into even more fits of laughter.

“Be cool.”

I got back down on my knees. I apologised. I knew Madame wasn’t mad at me, but more at the completely unexpected reaction. I kissed Her foot and buried my nose again. After a few minutes, I fetched Her money and carried on sniffing. Madame asked “What happened there?” and I couldn’t explain it. The absolute mixture of perfect feelings; the pain, the pleasure at being at Madame’s feet and that sock smell – fresh from Her boots – had just sent me over the edge.

It was humiliating. Truly. I never knew that could happen. But at the same time, and with hindsight, it makes me happy and proud. That Madame has that much control and a hold on me, that the smell of Her feet now can cause such a reaction. I’m sure it could happen again, that smell… I dream about it now. 

And so the session ended. Perfect pain, pleasure and humiliation.

I always end my blogs with something very positive to say about my time with Madame, and this will be no different. With Madame, I have a truly exceptional and special Owner and friend. We have a laugh and can have days like this where a new experience will happen and be so very perfect.

A Shopping Adventure

It’s been awhile since I’ve blogged. And yesterday’s meeting with Madame seems a good place to pick up where I left off. A shopping trip and catch up. Perfect.

We’d been looking forward to this. I knew I was feeling weak and the need to be on my knees and kiss Her feet and hand over money was strong for days leading up to this. Madame put on Twitter this photo before I arrived, and my move was set.

Check her website out:

The middle finger. Dressed in clothes I’ve paid for. Weak is a term I use a lot, but it never seems quite right. I was beyond that.

For the next few hours we heading into town and shopped.  I wore my collar and I’m sure it was quite visible in public. Did I care? No.

The thing I really love about the relationship I have with Madame, is that it can switch from friends chatting and shopping, into domme/sub and back to friends again so easily and naturally. Days like this, are exactly like that.

We both love Christmas, so shopping for decorations was a great place to start. It felt lovely getting my card out for the first time, inserting it in the card reader and paying.

I of course, carried the bags, and we headed onto the first clothes shop. On the way I said: “I love spending my money on you,” to which I receive a tickle under my chin and smile. How to I describe this? I melted. Sub-space washed over me.

There is something very special about following Madame around the shops. Next was to buy Her a new coat. I gladly held Her coat and watched Her pull the beautiful coat on. I knew as soon as it was over Her shoulders, She wanted it. Out came the card, inserted into the card reader and the bag passed to me to carry.

Clothes shop, followed by clothes shop; including Madame going into some changing rooms and coming out to show me potential outfits She’d wear on nights out with Sir. Seeing that, made the chastity strain just as much as inserting my card into the machine does.

After buying dresses, lingerie and tops – we headed to buy shoes. I’d asked if She needed a new pair of winter boots. Of course, She said yes. This place was my heaven. Staring at boots, knowing that any pair could end up on Her feet. Those perfect feet…

She picked a pair out, and She asked if I wanted to help put them on Her. I got down and eased the boot onto Her foot, staring longingly at Her feet before it went into the boot. They looked stunning on Her. I might be biased, but they did. Out came the card. Insert. Pay. Carry the bags.

Madame did ask half way around if I was OK carrying all of the bags, and I said yes. Even when the sales assistant passed Her the bag, I asked to carry it. I love spending my money on Her, and so carrying the bags as She shops, is just perfect.

And so the shopping came to an end. My card was battered, but was ready for one more use. As She stood smoking outside, She mentioned that She had been wearing the same socks for days now for me – socks I’ve paid for – and in Her words they were smelling quite “ripe”. I melted again. Nothing on Madame could or would smell bad, and I looked forward to getting close to Her feet to worship them and smell Her divine feet.

We walked to the cash machine, and I put in my card. And kept turning to look at Madame whilst I decided what to withdraw. I know I whimpered. Before I put in an amount and put the cash in my wallet for later.

We headed back and then put out the decorations. It is truly magical watching Madame all excited about Christmas, putting out new bits. At this point, I went to get changed into my Alice outfit whilst Madame tried on Her clothes. I ran around the vacuum and straightened up the living room, and got on my knees and then She appeared.

Holy wow! Madame was a vision – wearing things I’d bought, including down to a pair of Loubs. In her hands, those socks.

She sat down and Her foot went into my face. Hanging that Loub inches from me, teasing me. Weak, sub – whatever word you want to use, I was there. I was allowed to kiss, and kiss I did. I kissed those shoes with more passion than I kiss my wife. I whimpered, pretty much entirely for the next 20 minutes as I kissed away. I’d been desperate for this. The amount being at Madame’s feet means to me and how much I love it, all flowing out of me as I worshipped at my Owner’s feet. Weak and needy. Desperate to please Her more.

In the last few weeks, from an innocuous conversation with Madame, it appears I’ve developed a bit of a tights fetish. Knowing this, Madame said She had put them on especially. I moaned in pleasure and frustration as the cage strained again. 

“Your legs look so perfect in tights Madame.”

She moved Her skirt up slightly and I melted again. The finsub in me spoke up, re-affirming a promise I’d made to Madame before.

“Please let me buy You new tights whenever you need a new pair. Like your hair. I want to pay for it all. Just send me the bill.”

“Good girl.” Melted.

She asked if I wanted to put Her new boots on Her. I took off Her Loubs reverently, and stared at those feet in tights and couldn’t resist a kiss before putting Her new boots on. Which, look stunning. Watching Her strut in the shop in them was amazing, but this, face level, I wanted them so badly and kissed and worshipped.

“How do you think the new boots would be ballbusting you?” She asked.

I looked up, sub-space taking over me, and assumed the position. This time, no hesitation or leg trying to protect myself. I wanted this and presented.

The pain is unreal. My love of ballbusting is so unreal at the moment, it is so hard to explain. It’s a hate most men have, but me? I presented every single time. After each of the 4 kicks, Madame sat down and I kissed those boots. Close to tears as the kicking got harder and thanked Her.

I can’t remember if the money came out before or after the ballbusting… but my wallet appeared and those socks did again too. I was allowed to kneel and smell them whilst She counted out money in front of me. Ripe? No! Those socks smelled of absolute perfection.

Weak and needy. Absolutely. My balls racked with pain, my mind in utter pleasure from kissing Her boots and smelling Her socks.. I looked up remembering an item on Her wishlist – hair related – and said I would order it when home.

She leant over and let me smell Her hair driving me even more crazy and sub. Needy. Weak. I can’t even think of the words anymore. It smelled what I guess heaven smells like. A mix of Madame’s hair and Her socks is heaven right? Yes.

Sadly, everything comes to an end. I could stay at Madame’s feet for hours. Days even. One last kiss on Her shin, in those tights and it was done.

I will say this… this meeting with Madame was incredible on every level. I loved walking around catching up with a truly exceptional friend, chatting and joking and love being Her sub. In my humble opinion, She is the best Domme and Owner in the world.

It reiterated how much I love my time with Madame. I am extremely lucky and will continue to be the best person I can be for Her.

Chastity and hair fetish

Today marks 130 days in chastity. As I’ve eluded to in previous blogs, this is the longest period I’ve been locked in chastity. But not yet the longest I’ve been denied a real orgasm, that was over a year and a goal I’d like to beat being locked up. OK, not beat. Smash.

I’m bringing this up, as i’m really quite proud of this length of time. It is completely frustrating. Like, frustrating times a billion – especially when I’m at Madame’s feet or having sub Whatsapp conversations. When in that mood, I do something I describe as air-humping. It’s hard to articulate, but it’s essentially straining within the chastity cage to make it move and rub on the inside of the cage. Because of the lack of meaningful contact with the device, it provides zero satisfaction. It only achieves in frustrating me more and more.

Wearing has become such a normal part of my life now. I sit to go to the toilet. I just carry out my life as normal.

If you’re wondering when I’ll be unlocked… I don’t know. It is an “indefinite” lockup, barring cleaning occasionally. The frustration, the weakness, the happiness, the horniess it provides. It’s indescribable. Tie that in with my other fetishes and it makes for a weak Alice, most of the time.

The second topic is around my hair fetish. This newly developing fetish has seemingly come from nowhere. How has it come about? I’ve been paying for Madame to have occasional hair treatments, colouring and cuts for months and months without really considering how much I liked Her hair.

As I write this, I have gone back to the Whatsapp conversation to see if I could pinpoint the moment this fetish really hit me. There are a few references to her hair, as you’d imagine but on 16 September, Madame sent a picture of her hair after it went back to ginger. My reply to that picture was:

“Oh my, I could have a thing for your hair”.

Since then, there has been a few conversations focussing on my weakness for Her hair, including being mentioned I’m a “slut for Her hair now.”

I want to pay for everything hair related for Madame now. I’ve asked and been granted permission to come anything She needs or wants. A picture of just Madame’s hair can send me into overdrive. I want and need to pay for Her to hair, in the same way I love knowing She is wearing something I’ve bought Her. I love spending my money on Her. It is, after all, Her money really, it just goes into my account first.

This weekend, I had the pleasure of brushing Her hair for the first time. How do I describe this? I have no idea of how long passed whilst I was brushing. I was in sub space. Yes, from brushing hair. I’d gone from normal Jon, to sub Jon within the space of being handed the brush. Madame moved Her head around, leaning back, turning, so I could brush everywhere. My God. Like. Wow. I could have brushed Her hair for hours. It was relaxing, watching that brush running through Her hair. The smell. The feeling of the brush.  I can’t wait to have the opportunity to do it again. It was heavenly. I want to spoil Her hair sooooo bad.

I’m going to leave the blog there for now. Hope you all have a great week, and if you have any questions or want to know about me, please ask 🙂