Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

Slaps and Kisses

This is one of the rituals that we perform in private to ensure our relationship remains unequal. Sure, slapping a submissive across the face is nothing new, but with us, there is a deeper meaning to it.

I don’t need to slap him hard, as it’s not the physical pain that counts, rather it’s the feeling of power and control I get when slapping his face, and the humility it forces upon him. A gentle backhand with only the flick of my wrist is sufficient. If I am wearing my leather gloves, I will remove one and lightly slap him with it.

When I slap him, I am conveying the message “I own you and can do whatever I damn well please to you”, and for a few months, I actually said the words out loud to him each time to drive that meaning into him with repetition. Now when I slap him, I don’t say it anymore, but in his mind, he hears the message loud and clear.

After slapping him, I hold my hand out to him. His part of the ritual is to feel the humiliation from the slap, and submit. To show his submission, he kisses the hand that slapped him conveying the message “ Yes Ma'am, you own me and I surrender to your control”. When I said my part out loud, he answered me out loud.

When I first created this ritual, I would slap him at random a few times a day just to remind both of us our roles and places in this relationship. It worked great and have expanded on it since.

When we first started, he would take my hand in his while kissing it, but now I have him clasp his wrists behind his back and hold them there instead as it’s a much more submissive and vulnerable pose. He must maintain eye contact with me while kissing the hand that beats him.

Every so often, I may feel that I don’t see enough submission in his eyes and slap him again. If I slap him a second time, he has to get down and kiss my bare feet, or lick the patent leather ballet slippers I tend to wear around the house, as they are comfortable and perfect for licking.

I now use it to control his speech as well. If he says something I find offensive, or is just boring me with what he is saying, a quick backhand across the face shuts him up immediately and he kisses my hand and remains silent until I allow him to speak again.

So, in summation, the ritual is quick, efficient, and gets the point across. I feel powerful as he experiences humility which helps to maintain the inequality we both feel is important in our female-led relationship.

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[EXPAND] Writing this caption quickly escalated and it got far too long. Thats why I put the text below. Hope you like this style as well!

I couldn’t help but smile as I was observing my daughter ordering around her slave… only seconds later what must have been the chains between his ankle and wrist cuffs, as well as the chains that connects them both to his collar, began to play an orchestra of distant metallic rattling and clinking. Clearly indicating he immediately arised from his knees to pause his current task of cleaning and worshipping my ankle boots to perfection just to attend to his newest instruction.

It kinda made me proud seeing how eager he must be to show my daughter his complete submission and devotion by obeying her orders without flaw and hesitation.

I always tried to not bring my stepson, her stepbrother, into this situation though, but when I enslaved my now current husband and our patchwork family finally moved in together they already were both adults over 18 and not dumb, so they definetly realized the dynamic that was going on. And while ‘Vermin’ seemed to distance himself at first, my daughter seemed to be eager to take full advantage of a live-in butler that not only treated her with the upmost respect despite her spoiled, patronising and yes, sometimes bitchy antics, but also cleaned her room, washed her clothes, ironed her best tennis skirts and polished those expensive leather footwear that seemed to be in fashion nowadays.

The months went on and someday I recognized some unfamiliar transactions with my credit card, which after some research eventually led back to a manufactor selling the most secure brands of chastity cages, even more secure of what my husbands is wearing. With the same smile I have right now I let that incident slide and from that point onwards I realized the changes around the house.

I observed the same doe-eyed look from “Vermin” that my husband used to make whenever she pranced around the house in her many bikinis, crop tops or floaty skirts. “Vermin” couldn’t even keep his eyes away from me and my expensive Louboutins and I saw him visibly wince every time my elegant, pointy high heels clacked on the hard floor tiles of our home. They didnt fight anymore, like (step)siblings do sometimes, there were orders (her) and meekly compliance (him). They were no longer excessive gaming-sessions from “Vermin” and his buddys but more trips to the mall with his stepsister. The first time we exchanged knwoing glances were when she once came back home from another mall trip waltzing through the door to refresh herself while “Vermin” had difficulties balancing all those numerous bags and packages carefully to her room.

And here we are now. She living in her new flat in downtown, while Vermins metal clankings and rattlings grow louder and more clear as he steps on the balcony, naked in just his pink leather collar, steel chastity cage and a black ball gag stuffed deep into his mouth. However, I wish that she would have seeked my councel before she got that that bold “VERNIM” lettering tattoed right above his cock cage. Even though she always assures me that it was his idea to show his devotion, I can always see the sadness in his eyes whenever she, her boyfriend, her many besties or me, yes it looks ridiculous and I’m not perfect, point to those stupid bold letters and laugh out loud.

It always makes me pity him sometimes though, thinking that this went way too far for poor Vernim. On the other hand it always takes me back thinking about the day we first took a tour for this new flat. We were gloating about the spacious kitchen, the great looking panaroma over the city skyline, the massive master bedroom and its adjacent modern bathroom. And when we found an old room down the hallway, big enough for a decent storage room, but extremly cramped for living purposes it was my beloved daughter that roughly tugged on the leash to make him sit right before the door: “Look loser (that was before the whole "Vernim” name and tattoo thing) we just found a suitable residence for you. It may not be able to contain a bed or other luxuries you might expect, but we could easily fit a bedroll and some boxes with your remaining stuff in here.“

When he turned around and just stupidly looked into her eyes with pure affection before saying: "Yes Princess. Thank you so much, Princess” only to collapse right before her and lap away on her boots with his tongue like a maniac we just lost it. I know it may sound harsh and unfair but we just laughed and laughed until we had tears in our eyes.

Enter gently from the rear

Assertive Young Ladies #101

You're my sissy, and your chastity enhances our intimate connection