Lambs to the Slaughter


Normally, a review would be written by a sub attending a dungeon, post-session. However, because I make the rules, I’m writing my own review of the Fetish Emporium’s Strap on and Fisting Party on 7th June 2017, and rather generously sharing a snapshot of the day’s events. Picture, if you will, the scene.

 13 men.

 Lambs to the slaughter? Perhaps. Definitely wide-eyed with a combination of anticipation, excitement and nerves. Some of them are seasoned pros, frequent visitors to mistresses and their dungeons; used to the feel of total domination that comes from a comprehensive fisting. The novices, unsure of the protocol, stand edgily in clusters for comfort.

 They have been ordered to remove their clothes, which have been bagged and secured in another room.

 Waiting, they exchange looks with each other, not daring to speak, fearful of enraging one of the Mistresses. They keep their heads below the parapet.

 They have handed over their bodies, and more specifically their arses, to the incredible Mistresses of The Fetish Emporium, and are waiting to have enemas, in preparation for their anal annihilation. For those of you who have managed to lead lives unfettered by enemas prior to anal play, the process involves the flushing out of the lower bowel with water to remove any ‘detritus’. It is essential for a good strap on or fisting session. I do not do scat, and I certainly do not want shit all over my Louboutin’s. A good clear out also makes the experience more effective for the ‘fistee’.

 Once the subs have been prepped, they are split up and taken into separate rooms in the dungeon. Some are collared. Some have hoods or blindfolds put on them. Others are made to simply kneel in a corner. One is placed on all fours in the medical room annexe, his skinny white arse exposed. A hand-held electrical fucking machine or ‘fuck-saw’ is on the floor next to him. None of the subs are allowed to stand or talk, unless commanded to do so.

 Whilst allowing my slave to worship my feet, seated in a throne, I observe the unfolding scene. One of the subs is forced to eat a banana out of another’s ass. Another sub, who has never attended one of the Fetish Emporium’s parties before, is made to suck a slave’s cock, whilst one of the Mistresses fucks him hard with a large dildo.  

 Other vignettes taking place include a sub on all fours with a mouth dildo, being made to fuck the arse of another. A further sub is suspended in a swing, at arse-fucking height of course, and is used by several Mistresses at once. He noisily ‘complains’, but is mocked for doing so.

 An experienced sub has requested that all the Mistresses fist him in turn. Everyone obliges of course. Whilst I fist him, we discuss the differences in technique, knuckle width, and finger reach. He is a seasoned fistee, and his arse accepts all the fists greedily.  

 After the last subs have left (after being instructed to clean the dungeon and all equipment until it is spotless), it is time for all the Mistresses to relax. If you have never spent a day wearing a latex catsuit, the relief of peeling it off – your body wet with sweat, patches of sticky lube all over your thighs – is delightful. I am sure you’d like me to go into detail about 8 Mistresses, naked, relaxing post-party wouldn’t you? I will leave that to your fevered imagination….

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