Well as a result of my new found daily freedom, poor bitch-boy has, among other things (lots of nettle use on his clitty, T&D, sensory deprivation bondage, etc.), found himself colouring-in with his dolly for many, many hours. While I read, undertake a craft past time, watch TV, talk on the phone, etc.

I realised that I have never provided an update on the two minute timer, so I do now.

51pxrwldqml sl1000 copyIt is a huge success! A reminder of the use of the timer can be found in the link above. bitch-boy learned early that failing to ask dolly if he should keep using the same colour before the sand runs out was a mistake! Governess Lexi and I were on the sofa chatting and bitch-boy was on the floor in the centre of the room, (no hiding place from the keen monitoring or the shame), and Lexi noticed the sand run out. He immediately found himself bound, face down over the dining table receiving a serious caning from Lexi and then me.

So back to now. I sit and relax and every two minutes at a minimum I am amused by the very quiet sound of bitch asking his dolly, ‘Shall I keep using thith colour for the butterflyth wingth Thuthette Thimperkinth?’ – ‘Yeth Belindakinth, keep using that colour for the butterflyth wingth.’ Then in my peripheral vision I see the timer being turned over and the sand again begins to fall. Of course, it may not be butterflies wings. It may be the leaves on the tree, or the fairies shoes, or whatever. I do get quite a power rush – utterly relaxed and content in the ambience of his unremitting miserable humiliation and tedium. My massager has to be used every half hour or so! (I am having so many orgasms every full day of domination! 9 to 12 as a norm.)

My published journals detailing my life.

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Source: Ms Scarlet

A shaming exchange at least every two minutes