Below is the last paragraph of my previous post.

When I left she followed me out and when I got into my car, I told my bitch to lower his window, which he did. She put her face close to his, looked into his eyes and spoke with a coolness and clear malevolent resolve. “I’m so looking forward to visiting you in a few weeks. I know all about the extended thrashings you receive that reduce you to tears, and I really look forward to making you cry your eyes out bitch; more than just once.” She then looked across at me with a happy smile of camaraderie, and spoke in a bright tone. “We’ll set a date Scarlet, not too far away. So looking forward to visiting you. Have a safe journey.” She walked back to her house and closed the front door…………

Back to this post……. Several followers have asked for an account of her reciprocal visit to me, as it is not in any of my journals. So here it is.

I exchanged a number of emails with her. I will refer to her as she chose to be referred to by her slave-cuckold-husband: Ms. Sybarite. I adored the name she gave herself, making clear to her husband, (and to my bitch and any other uxo she might be involved with), that, (to quote the dictionary), : She is a person devoted to luxury, pleasure, and self-indulgent comforts.

So clever. No embarrassed pretence over her behaviours, so excusing them as relating to feminism, or revenge for wrongdoing on her husband’s part. No. She was in an FLR for the luxury, pleasure, and self-indulgent comforts. Obviously the pleasure not only included sensuous and sensual, but also the bitchy-power-rush from being pitilessly cruel just for the sexual arousal, the feeling of decadence and the sense of exceptionality that being pitilessly cruel brings one.

In one of my email exchanges I asked for her preference for how my bitch should be dressed and I provided several options. I expected she would be seeking something very embarrassing. She actually wanted an option I had not offered: Simply; collar, and chained ankle and wrist cuffs and chastity cage, and she alerted me that her preference for her visit was a serious experience of having him tied down and receiving thrashings, (plural) with each of the types of implements I had, some of which she had not used. She was most interested in discovering if there were alternative thrashing implements she should be purchasing for herself.

She commented that he could rest and recover a bit and then another thrashing, and so on. My cunt actually moistened at the prospect of this pitilessly sadistic and decadent use of my bitch. This was to be about nothing other than her inflicting pain for the sadistic pleasure of it, and testing new implements of pain. I could not wait to advise my bitch of this and have him seriously fretting.

It is quite a power-rush, firstly, securing your bitch into a helplessness while he whimpers at the prospect of what has been explained will happen next. A decadent feeling because you feel no guilt or pity, at this exhilarating scenario. Then that feeling is magnified when the thrashing starts, and especially when the muffled, desperate pleading, (through his gag) begins.

I had experienced before, standing back and watching another woman thrashing, for her sadistic pleasure and amusement, the bitch-thing you own. Like generously lending a friend a precious object you own that she can enjoy to the full. His muffled pleading aimed at her, and then aimed at oneself.

“It’s no good directing your pleas at me you silly little bitch. It’s Ms. Sybarite who is thrashing you not me. And she is running her experiments on each implement for how much she enjoys using it. So showing mercy would clearly interfere with the scientific efficacy of the experiments. Therefore, she is totally free to apply as many strokes a she she wishes as hard as she wishes.” He lost all composure and I could see Ms. Sybarite enjoyed how things had suddenly got ‘serious’ as much as I had. I was very aroused now.

But he is an uxo, and I saw how close he was to dropping into sub-space when he was presented to her, as he trembled and looked so vulnerable naked but for collar and cuffs and chains and chastity cage, in front of two women in everyday, (although quite sexy) outfits. Now only moments after he lost his composure completely, he did drop into sub-space. That weird phenomenon when physical pain, or humiliation pain, is magically reduced. He was certainly getting his uxo box ticked big-time today, truly feeling; helplessly in the power of not one, but two dominant women, each with a definite mean streak.

When the thrashings were finally over, he had to serve tea and coffee, still in his same level of nakedness, but now sporting the markings of a severe thrashing. His outfit and thrashing marks contrasted powerfully with our everyday clothing. I sent him to face the corner while she and I chatted.

My mind did flit to how, when he saw his thrashing marks in the mirror later when she had departed, he would feel so much uxo contentment, and when he helped me achieve a large number of, (very overdue), orgasms, in his chastity restrained role as Mistress’s Little Helper, attending to my naked body in several ways, both severe sexual frustration and total uxo contentment would wash over him simultaneously. (Uxos are such irrational creatures!)

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