The power from contrast of normal clothes with shame-outfits (Post 2)

This post, like my previous post, is a dose of reality, from detailed example experiences of myself and fellow Dommes, with whom I have had the pleasure of double-domming their uxo. Reality about how real-life Domes in real-life FLRs usually wear no special outfits at all, except outfits that might, with no effort or acknowledgment, subtly create enduring, gnawing, desperate sexual frustration in their chastity-restrained uxo, who knows it will be a very long time, if ever, that that frustration will be eased. Enduring, gnawing, desperate sexual frustration which is often, it seems to him, completely ignored, but the Domme may well smile inside as she observes her uxo notice and suffer the visual source of his frustration that has taken her no effort at all to include in her appearance.

I can confirm that there is no doubt that Dommes dressed in nominally everyday clothes, while the uxo is dressed in a very humiliating and / or, very demeaning outfit humiliates and belittles the uxo far more than if those Dommes have dressed up in any of; uncomfortable, leather, rubber, latex, PVC, thigh high boots, hats, hoods, opera gloves, etc. etc.

I asked in my previous post, if there is a demand for more accounts of moments in my life, (that are not in my journals), relating to the images in the posts, with a theme of clothing contrast. There was such a demand.

This account relates to the image above and one visit I made to the house of a young domme-wife, (and she subsequently made one visit to me). Her journey began when she found her young husband had been spending hours on my blog. She then began having him as her maid and found she was a natural dominant woman, to whom power-rush pitilessness came easily. First enjoying a life in which he had to do all the housework and cooking, then came the increases in meanness. She loved how he was so affected by her humiliating him and sort to maximise that in his maid’s role for her symbiotic pleasure.

Only about nine-months into her FLR, and she sent me a comment asking if I would visit her to seriously humiliate her little maid, and she chose me, as she wanted him to be clear there was no aspect of his secrets she could not control, including how he had spent so many hours reading my blog. She wanted him to be clear that there was nothing he had done she did not know about, and nothing she would not do to deepen her control and have him suffer serious humiliation. I was to be the the first person, other than her, to see him in his sissy-maid outfit, which she thought was totally appropriate and maximum humiliating.

I certainly very much liked her attitude and although looking forward to my visit to her, I was REALLY looking forward to her reciprocal visit to me.

In setting the arrangements, I asked if there was anything in particular I should wear. She responded she would be in jeans and a tight T-shirt and, me also wearing non-fetish clothing, she knew, would maximise his humiliation and continue to drive home that their new roles were no game. His role was chores and suffering humiliation for her amusement, her role was doing whatever the hell she wanted, which included, she had already told him, he would be cuckolded. (I did suggest to her to try a female lover as I liked to do myself. Disappointingly for me, she said another man was what would really float her boat. And that WAS going to happen.)

Their day-to-day life was as follows: He was in a chastity device. He had to work much longer hours than her, and this meant he left for work before she woke in the mornings, and he got home from work after she did. (They now slept in separate bedrooms. Her in the double and him in a single in his room; to be re-decorated, but how, she was torn on. Lots of pastel colours and girly, or, utterly spartan with almost no furniture. When he got home from work he had to go straight to his room and on his bed he would find what she had decided he would be wearing that night. Currently it would be one of three different maid’s outfits. A very cheap, nylon, hospitality industry ‘maid’s’ outfit. A formal black and white affair, and the one he was to be presented to me in, a short pink frilly, sissy maid’s outfit.

He would get in from work, go straight to his room, and dress in the outfit she had chosen for him for that night. When ready, he had to go and present himself to her for inspection and to receive cooking and chores instructions for that night. The arrangements meant he would almost always go the whole 5 working days of the week, only ever being dressed as a maid in front of her. She adored the control of choosing his outfit and setting it out on his bed and she explained, the fact that usually they would go 5 days with him nothing but a maid to her, during her waking hours, really created a mean and superior mindset in her. She would go out with her girlfriends several times each week, leaving him with a list of chores to do, and usually some lines to write too.

It was quite a long drive, so I checked it would be OK if my bitch drove me and then sat and waited in the car. She was fine with that, but suggested he wait in the car in her driveway so she could pop out with me when I was leaving at the end of the visit, to ‘give him something to think about‘ regarding her subsequent visit to our home. A proposal I happily accepted and informed my bitch about at my earliest convenience.

I wore thick, grey, tight, woollen leggings tucked inside black knee-high, high-heeled boots, a white cropped T-shirt, and a red leather, Bolero length jacket. Quite sexy, subtly dominant, but WHOLLY everyday wear any woman might wear out shopping at the mall. No fetish element that he could think might mean it is all a game we were playing.

She answered the door and I entered and there was instant rapport. The house was silent apart from some peaceful classical music playing somewhere in the house. We chatted in the sitting room for about ten minutes and then she suggested the fun should begin. I of course agreed! She rang a little summoning bell. Clearly wishing the earth would open up and swallow him, her husband entered in an outfit almost exactly as shown in the image. He curtseyed and his eyes never left the floor. I smiled enjoying his misery and the sense of shared power over this trembling creature. She spoke calmly and mockingly.

“Well, Mary-Jane, this is Mistress Scarlet. It looks like the reality of being in her presence is rather different to fantasy isn’t it, you little ex-wanker.” His blushing got deeper and his discomfort radiated from him. It was delightful. I knew what was expected of me so I stood and approached him and began an inspection of his outfit with a running commentary, designed to humiliate him to the maximum, for his wife’s pleasure; and mine too of course.

“Don’t you look ridiculous in your little pink and white maid’s dress with all the frills and bows. Utterly ridiculous. Aren’t you lucky to have a wife buying you such pretty things?” He remained silent and staring at the floor. His wife spoke in a tone of harshness even I did not expect.

“Answer Mistress Scarlet girl! And look into her eyes as you do so!” He raised his chin and his eyes met mine. How he hated eye contact; seeing my condescending amusement and pitilessness. His voice was at a highish pitch, obviously part of his training. “Yes Mistress Scarlet I do look ridiculous.” His gaze returned quickly to the floor, I chuckled. His wife ordered him to bring in two cups of tea and he couldn’t leave the room quickly enough, after a departing curtsey which was obviously a default rule.

When he was back in the room and his wife and I were sipping tea, she told me in front of him about setting out the chosen uniform on his bed every evening after work for him to put on before presenting himself to her, and that sometimes he had hours of chores, but sometimes she would put him to bed for an early night, sometimes as early as 7:00pm. The putting bed routine always ended for him a diaper and being strapped down. And every night once strapped down, after his chastity cage was removed, his penis would be washed and cleaned, before being locked back on and the diaper added, and even though it was always with hot water and a harsh bristled brush, and despite knowing there would be punishment, he would always become erect. And that would mean dickie-disciple time! Dickie-disciple time with a coating of Ralgex, which always ended with him in tears, but never an orgasm. She would undo the straps when she was ready to go to bed in her bedroom, and he was not allowed to get out of bed or remove the diaper until the morning. He squirmed as he had to listen to this explanation to me. His wife was really enjoying herself, as was I.

The three hours passed by very quickly and included she and I both almost bringing her uxo to tears with strokes of an agitation whip to his butt, and me inspecting his chastity device while she and I discussed the sort of man she would be cuckolding her maid with and how much bigger her new lover’s cock would be. All wonderful cruelty!

I thought, as I so often do in these scenarios, how, if a new Domme has never taken particular pleasure in their uxo’s vanilla company, on finding out he is an uxo, things spiral very, very quickly, to a very extreme 24/7/365 lifestyle.

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.