I’d make a superb Domme if I was into female supremacy and not just male chastity.

This isn’t an idle boast, and since Joe’s com­ment the other day, I’ve given it a lot of thought and chewed it over with John.

Why?

Well, not because I have any inten­tion or desire to incor­po­rate it into my life and rela­tion­ship with John, so you frisky subs out there might as well just get your hands out of your pants before you start dribbling.

And there are two over­whelm­ing rea­sons for my not want­ing to pur­sue a female-led D&S rela­tion­ship with John:

• First, as I’ve said before, I find sub­mis­sive men unat­trac­tive. This isn’t to say I dis­like them as indi­vid­u­als. What it means is I wouldn’t con­sider them as suit­able sex­ual or life part­ners. Slice and dice this any way you want, but it’s just as much a per­sonal pref­er­ence as men who like blondes with big tits and women who like fat wallets.
• Sec­ondly, John sim­ply isn’t sub­mis­sive. He might like orgasm denial and the dynam­ics of male chastity, but female supremacy is an idea he finds hilar­i­ous. I mean, come on… women are “supe­rior” only in what they’re best at; and men are “supe­rior” in what they are best at. To hold them both up and claim one is wholly and intrin­si­cally “supe­rior” to the other is plainly silly, and only plainly silly peo­ple really believe it.

But none of this means I wouldn’t make a superb Domme for some­one.

It’d just have to be some­one I wasn’t hav­ing any kind of sex­ual rela­tion­ship with. So that imme­di­ately, from where I’m look­ing at it, means as far as I’m con­cerned, he’d be in per­ma­nent orgasm denial as well as per­ma­nent male chastity.

Be Care­ful What You Wish For — Ulti­mate Guide to Male Chastity

Just to back up a bit: I’m some­thing of a per­fec­tion­ist. This isn’t to say I claim the ulti­mate objec­tive truth about female supremacy or any­thing else; rather, it means I’d have my own idea or model of what it meant to be a Domme, and then I’d do what­ever was nec­es­sary to ensure any­one play­ing the game with me met my stan­dards exactly, with no room for dis­cus­sion, com­pro­mise or flexibility.

This does not con­tra­dict what I’ve said pre­vi­ously about flex­i­bil­ity, because I’m not talk­ing about being in a rela­tion­ship with a sub male. He would be in my pres­ence only to obey and I would have scant regard for his feel­ings or desires.

My rules, and he doesn’t have to play if he doesn’t want to.

So, my mean­der­ing thoughts down this path were I’d have to be a pro­fes­sional Domme, since I have no inter­est in hav­ing a sub­mis­sive man in my life or engag­ing in female supremacy for plea­sure. I don’t want “serv­ing” and when I want sex­ual plea­sure, I have a real man, John, to please me, his male chastity notwithstanding.

My typ­i­cal client, then, would have to be a par­tic­u­lar kind of man. His vision of see­ing a Domme would sim­ply have to be he has no right or expec­ta­tion of receiv­ing any par­tic­u­lar treat­ment, good or bad.

The only thing he would be sure of is there would be no chance what­so­ever of his orgasm (with one or two excep­tions, as I’ll describe in a moment). I might engage in tease and denial, but then again I might not. Male chastity would be a given, and female supremacy an unde­ni­able and incon­tro­vert­ible fact within our microcosm.

He’d also have to be afflu­ent or at least com­mit­ted to pay­ing for qual­ity. See, I’ve looked at local (and not so local) Dommes and they’re all the same: you pay by the hour. Now, John, as a mar­ket­ing whizz, saw the flaw in this imme­di­ately. If you can give peo­ple what they desire, what they have that insane crav­ing for, they’ll pay you any­thing you ask.

So instead of hour-long ses­sions, I’d host entire week­ends. My clients would pay £5,000 for a week­end of the most strictly enforced iron-discipline they could imag­ine, and then some.

I’d qual­ify them before­hand, and any­one not will­ing to accept my terms, I’d sim­ply turn away. My terms are sim­ple: uncom­pro­mis­ing male chastity, utter female supremacy, and com­plete obe­di­ence. That’s it.

The only pos­si­ble excep­tion to their orgasm denial might be if I hired a local whore, or per­haps a rent boy to give them an orgasm against their will. I mean, if they are going to get release, I’d want them to have it in a way that makes them as self-loathing as pos­si­ble, yes?

They can stop at any time they like by using the safe-word, but once it’s used that’s it. They leave imme­di­ately and there’s no refund. Now, you might be read­ing this and think­ing, “fuck, I’d not pay that much!” or “I’d never be able to put up with that”, but that just means you’d not be in my tar­get mar­ket. You wouldn’t embrace the depth of female supremacy I’d demand.

Any­way, where were we? Ah yes… the weekend.

If you’ve seen the old Other World King­dom, you’ll per­haps know one com­mon com­plaint from guests was it was too easy. The men wanted harsh treat­ment, and didn’t get it.

Remem­ber, I’m going way beyond just male chastity here.

So their first night would be spent kneel­ing, locked in a pos­ture bar with their hands behind their backs. They’d be in my bed­room and they would be treated to an exhi­bi­tion of how I fuck a real man. John, of course. This is where I might tease and deny them, too. Would I let John come? I don’t know. It might be fun to enforce his male chastity, and let him sam­ple the ben­e­fits of female supremacy, too.

Some­thing else I might do, for espe­cially dis­cern­ing men whose wives are in on the secret, so to speak, is arrange for them to watch their wives being fucked all night by a hunky male escort, kneel­ing in a pos­ture bar, as I said before. Just musing.

Pun­ish­ment?

Oh yes. I’d promise – nay, guar­an­tee them a can­ing the likes of which they never dared dream of. There’s no point in play­ing at this. I’d have them restrained, gagged and thrashed like fuck until they were gen­uinely weep­ing and beg­ging for me to stop.

But over­rid­ing all of this would be the psy­cho­log­i­cal aspect. And here’s what really would make me an excep­tional Domme, and eas­ily worth that £5,000 for a week­end of exquis­ite suf­fer­ing: my imag­i­na­tion. This is what makes a man sexy to me; this is what makes me sexy to men.

Because, bluntly, I’d fuck with their heads, non stop.

Never mind male chastity, never mind female supremacy, they would leave my cas­tle after their week­end com­pletely psy­cho­log­i­cally bro­ken to slav­ery, bro­ken to the cane. See, in the true style of good busi­ness, they wouldn’t be just get­ting a week­end. I would deliver more than they paid for. It would never stop.

They wouldn’t be able to get me out of their heads.

Per­haps I’d throw in a bespoke chastity belt with the fee, or have it as an optional extra, with the agree­ment being once it fits and once they’re accli­ma­tised to it, the key is mine. I would be their key­holder (or per­haps their wives would be… so many options, no?).

But this would be male chastity and female supremacy because the under­stand­ing would be that as soon as it becomes pos­si­ble, per­ma­nent male orgasm becomes a way of life for them.

Again, this wouldn’t suit every­one, perhaps.

But it would suit enough. And, frankly, once I had them before me, I’d twist their subby lit­tle minds so they would be beg­ging me to cut their balls off and put them in a jar just so they can’t ever orgasm and lose this mad and insane crav­ing for release.

They’d come to me know­ing they would leave bro­ken, enslaved and owned men. They’d pay me for it, and pay me hand­somely. Male chastity would become their reli­gion, female supremacy their scrip­ture, and I their fuck­ing Goddess.

They’d go back to the pathetic ruins of their lives des­per­ately look­ing for­ward to the next time they could afford to come and spend another week­end in Hell with me.

I would destroy them, and they would thank me for it.

Of course, none of this is real and will never happen.

Because I don’t want it to. It’s that sim­ple. I just don’t want to be a Domme.

You might just want to be thank­ful of that.

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