Paris

Last weekend I visited again a dungeon in Paris with a French Friend of Me. Actually She had introduced Me into this great dungeon.  I was very eager to visit it again since they offer non limit slaves. Like last year, I could not miss the opportunity of whipping slaves without restrictions!  I must say We made good use of that!

We added numbrous permanent scars to their already seriously scarred backs and not only with Our whips. At the end at least three of them bore the marks of Our boots as well!

Apart from that, Laurence also had brought two slaves of her own. After all We also needed “services” outside the dungeon as well.  Who else would serve Us to Our standards when back in the hotel? Or carry our bags after shopping?

Anyway, We mainly used her slaves to serve Us while enjoying ourselves whipping and kicking the other slaves.

The day after We went shopping for a whole day, Our slaves carrying the bags permanently stayed about twenty meters behind Us, waiting at the entrance of the shops We entered (these beautiful shops are no place for a slave! So like dogs, they wait at the entrance). Later that night We visited a Friend of Laurence in Paris and had diner with her while Laurence’s slaves remained cuffed and chained in Ingrid’s (Laurence’s Friend) house.

Nice view... isn't it?

On Sunday morning, We rested in the hotel, enjoyed the sunny view before We left back home. But before We left, Laurence’s slaves were ordered to tongue-clean the soles of Our boots. This was not that simple since We both wore kind of high hiking boots with deep lug soles for easy walking (shopping can be real exhausting and requires good footwear!) and some small stones had stuck in them. Her slaves had to remove them with their tongue since they were not allowed to use their hands for that. On top of that, they had to swallow them!

When We decided that our soles where sufficiently clean (We checked each other’s), We finally checked out and said goodbye, inviting Laurence to come over to My place for some ponyboy-rides, a topic We had discussed the night before in the restaurant. And since She also is a fanatic rider (of real horses), She immediately liked the idea and accepted the offer.

Something to look forward to!

Lady Contessa Pat

Entertaining Guests

Last weekend, Two of My German Domme Friends came over to My place since I actually have three slaves at My disposal.

Since the three of Us are all skilled horseback riders, a few good ponyraces were mandatory, expecially since the three slaves are actually well trained as ponyslaves. That is why I had asked My friends to bring their riding gear and adviced them to bring their most viciously looking spurs since I know that slaves are always scared to death for them (at least My slaves are). So indeed both Charlotte and Petra arrived in riding attire and had brought not only one but several pairs of spurs! I was delighted and after about half an hour of chitchatting and complimenting each other, I went changing My outfit as well and We mounted our slaves for a short tour to get acquainted to My garden (which is rather large).

The spurs for Our “ponygames” 

(with thanks to Lady Petra for the picture) 

Like that Charlotte rode My slave marc, Petra was on jan, and Me Myself had taken dirk (a Friend’s slave who used to be Mine and was well trained by Me at the time). Of course for the racing games We switched slaves each time. Otherwise it would not be fair. But, as an introduction I took My friends along My garden to get acquainted to riding a human. Afterall, none of Us ride human ponies very often (although I used to do that daily until a few years ago). But, apart from a few days before (trial with dirk), Me Myself had not been riding a ponyboy for months.  So, some “warming up” was no unnecessary luxury. After that, I suggested to have a first “speedrace” over a short distance. Like that, We rode three time, each time changing “horses”. The three of Us won one leg each (riding on Myriam’s slave dirk), but that meant that to My disappointment, jan and marc lost each time!!! (it is the rider who wins, but the pony that looses) Therefore, I had them whipped twenty times with a long whip (for embarrassing Me, their owner). Next, We had a special lunging-race.

In this funny game, two Ladies stand back tot back, our slaves at the taut lunge-cord. At the start they are at opposite sites and during the game they have to run to try to catch each other. Of course We are there to “encourage” our slave with a whip of our choice (I always prefer a classical lunge whip). Since nor Charlotte and Petra had done this before, I had them start with My slaves jan and marc and have a try-out first. (I had done this already a few times with My friend Myriam). It was sooooo funny and amusing that after the initially planned races, both Petra and Charlotte wanted to play the game two times all over again! Due to this I even had to shorten the long haul race (I had made reservations in a restaurant). A pity, because I always like such a longer ride and I had raffled jan and he is very good in this kind of endurance races. But to My delight I won the race tens of meters ahead although it was significantly shorter than originally planned!

We hurried to change outfits before I put the slaves in their cages and We left for the restaurant.

Of course when We came back later on that night, We got them out of the cages for personal “services” and since Charlotte was rather drunk, marc who was appointed her sexslave for the night had a rough time. Especially the fact that She insisted wearing Her Mexican spurs at Her heels had caused him trouble. I think he will still wear these marks for weeks if not months!

I had Myriam’s slave dirk and kicked him out of the bed after he had brought Me two times to orgasm. One with a facial dildo and a second one with a big vibrator.

On Sunday, We went for real horses in the manege and had a nice trip along the countryside. Before Charlotte and Petra left, I had My slaves tongue-cleaning their dirty riding boots while We had a last glass of champaign.

Lady Contessa Pat