I bring him into my Institute of Discipline on all fours, collared, leashed, and already far too confused for a slave who is supposed to obey simple commands.

Sit. Pant. Down. Into your doghouse.

Even that seems to be an intellectual challenge for him, which is why I do not waste time treating him like someone whose opinion matters. I have brought him to serve under my supervision; and my friend’s heels are the first assignment. He is told to clean her elegant pumps properly, while I stand above him in leather, spurs, gloves and sunglasses, deciding exactly how much humiliation his mouth can earn.

Of course, he hesitates. They always do, until the alternative becomes worse.

So I show him the real lesson waiting between my thighs: my massive strap-on. Either his mouth learns devotion at her heels, or it learns discipline around my cock. Preferably both.

What follows is a deliciously degrading training session between two dominant women who have no interest in his comfort. His head is guided, corrected, slapped, pulled and repositioned. He licks heels, sucks straps, gags for our amusement, crawls back into his little doghouse, and is dragged out again whenever we decide his mouth has become useful enough for another task.

We sit above him, smoke, laugh, spit on him, use him as a human ashtray, make him kiss the crop, lick the floor and worship our boots from the exact position where he makes the most sense: below us.

By the end, even that is not enough. I decide the punishment bench should be prepared next ; because his mouth was only the beginning, and a slave trained properly should never assume that one hole is sufficient.

I enter the bathroom and find two slaves doing exactly what they were told to do: cleaning. One is polishing the mirror. The other is kneeling in front of the toilet with a rag in his hand. A charming little domestic scene, if only they were not so embarrassingly bad at even the simplest task.

So I sit down on the edge of the bathtub, light my cigarette, and watch them fail in silence for a while.

Of course, silence only lasts as long as I allow it.

The slave at the toilet needs correction first. I grab him by the neck, inspect his miserable work, spread his legs with my riding boots and remind him that sloppy cleaning has consequences. A few well-placed kicks between his legs make him understand the assignment much better.

Then I turn to the other one at the mirror. Since his rag clearly is not doing enough, I decide his tongue might be more useful. I take his head, guide it along the glass, and make him polish the dirty spots properly with his mouth while my boots correct him from behind.

Every time he slows down, every time he tries to recover, I make it very clear: keep cleaning. Hopp, hopp, hopp.

Soon both slaves are kneeling at the toilet, using their tongues where a proper cleaning tool would usually be expected. They gag, whimper, hesitate and still somehow manage to disappoint me. So I continue correcting them with my boots, my voice, and my complete lack of patience.

By the end, I leave them with one simple instruction: when I come back, this bathroom had better be spotless.

Because if two useless slaves cannot even clean a bathroom properly, then at least they can serve as entertainment while I teach them how low their place really is.

No meu instituto, até mesmo um escravo que está apenas parado é esperado que cumpra uma função. Neste frio e visualmente impactante clipe de punição de 21 minutos, encontro um deles contido na entrada do porão e decido fazer uso adequado dele. Vestida com botas de salto alto pretas de design, calça de couro, luvas, blusa escura, óculos de sol e chapéu, testo diferentes varas em seu corpo indefeso, corrijo sua postura, examino-o de todos os ângulos e transformo sua imobilidade em uma desculpa para mais disciplina.

O que se segue é uma longa e variada sequência de castigos com vara, chutes, uso de cinta, chicotadas, tormento nos mamilos, provocação com fumaça, controle respiratório e pequenas pausas cruéis nas quais me divirto tanto quanto com o sofrimento à minha frente. Repetidamente, digo a ele para relaxar; não porque sou bondosa, mas porque me diverte chamar sua impotência de conforto. Em certo momento, faço até mesmo com que ele me agradeça por ?deixá-lo relaxar?, transformando sua completa falta de escolha em mais uma pequena piada para minha própria diversão.

Mudo de instrumentos sempre que me convém, comento suas reações com desprezo silencioso e deixo claro que ele não tem nenhum papel real no que lhe acontece, além de suportar. Ao final, seu corpo mostra os resultados, e saio da sala com a promessa de que a lição ainda não acabou. Uma cena refinada do instituto, construída sobre contenção, controle, humilhação e o prazer de tomar seu tempo com um escravo que não tem para onde ir e nenhuma chance de qualquer forma.

Em meu instituto, o treinamento de escravos tem como objetivo criar disciplina, obediência e pelo menos alguma utilidade básica. Mas de vez em quando, depara-se com espécimes tão sem esperança que uma educação adequada mal vale o esforço. Em casos como esses, o entretenimento é a opção mais sensata. Então os mantemos onde pertencem; nus, abaixo, e diretamente aos nossos pés, usando suas bocas, suas costas e qualquer pequena função que ainda possa ser extraída deles.

O que se segue é uma rica sequência de lambidas de botas, adoração de meias de náilon, lambidas de pés, uso como cinzeiro, humilhação verbal e mobília humana casual. Um escravo é usado até ficar sujo de terra, cinzas e solas, até estar tão imundo que não pode mais ser confiado perto de seus pés, então mudamos para a boca mais limpa e continuamos exatamente como bem entendemos. Uma cena de estilo institucional construída sobre desprezo, fetiches sobrepostos e a certeza silenciosa de que algumas criaturas são simplesmente demasiado estúpidas para serem educadas e só servem para prestar serviço.

Neste frio e visualmente impactante clipe de dupla dominação, minha colega e eu aplicamos disciplina em meu instituto; um severo porão onde a obediência é esperada e a resistência é corrigida. A cena inicial mostra dois escravos curvados sobre uma mesa, recebendo a chibatada lado a lado, antes de os deixarmos para trás e retornarmos mais tarde para testar, um por um, o arrependimento deles.

A segunda cena foca em um escravo teimoso que ainda não consegue manter a cabeça onde deveria: no chão, sob nossas botas. Enquanto uma de nós mantém sua cabeça firmemente pressionada no lugar com a sola da bota, a outra continua sua correção com o chicote. Trocamos de posição, mantemos a pressão constante, exigimos submissão adequada e deixamos claro que criaturas tão inferiores já deveriam estar tentando fundir-se ao chão sob seus pés.

Uma sequência forte e estilosa de dupla dominação, chibatadas, controle com botas, pressão na cabeça, humilhação e autoridade severa; finalizada com um encerramento em câmera lenta e a satisfação silenciosa de duas mulheres plenamente no comando.

Being a mistress is great! I am sitting comfortably in my sulky and get pulled towards my throne. I take place there and get my boots cleaned - of course, by a slaves tongue. After that, I get pulled away. Yes, I could not imagine any other life, than mine.

Hinweis: Es gibt einige wenige Momente der Unschärfe (High End Equipment trifft trotteligen Kamerasklaven)

Für mich ist nur díe Zungenlänge bei einem Haustier von Interesse. Wenn diese meinen Ansprüchen genügt, bekommt das Tierchen ein Halsband und eine Leine, mehr steht ihm nicht zu. Und mehr brauche ich auch nicht, um ihm Gehorsam beizubringen.

Meine Lackstiefel sollen schön glänzen. Dafür bedarf es langer, gleichmäßiger Zungenstriche. Natürlich versteht dieser hirnlose Schwanzträger nicht, was ich von ihm verlange. Harte Worte, Ohrfeigen und díe strickte Führung per Kette machen es ihm nach mehreren Anläufen verständlich. Doch muss ich wiederholt feststellen, dass nicht nur seine Zunge meine noblen Stiefel berührt, sondern unzulässigerweise auch seine haarigen Wangen. Nach entsprechenden "Anreizen", funktioniert er wieder richtig und ich gewähre ihm meine Stiefelsohlen zu lecken. Und er darf sogar meine Absätze lutschen. Er sabbert dabei wie ein blödes Schwein. Also trockne ich meine Sohlen auf ihm, nutze seinen wertlosen Körper als Handtuch für meine edlen Sohlen. Danach darf er für díe Nacht auf meinen Balkon.

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Note: There are a few moments of blur (high end equipment meets clumsy camera slave)

For me only the length of the tongue in a pet is of interest. If this meets my requirements, the little anímal gets a collar and a leash, that's all it's entitled to. And that's all I need to teach him obedience.

My patent leather boots should shine beautifully. This requires long, even tongue strokes. Of course, this brainless cock-bearer doesn't understand what I'm asking of him. Harsh words, slaps in the face and being guided by a chain made him understand after several attempts. But I repeatedly have to state that not only his tongue touches my noble boots but inadmissibly also his hairy cheeks. After appropriate "stimuli", he functions properly again and I allow him to lick the soles of my boots. And he can even suck my heels. He drools like a stupid pig. So I dry my soles on him, use his worthless body as a towel for my precious soles. After that, he's allowed on my balcony for the night.

Hinweis: Es gibt einige wenige Momente der Unschärfe (High End Equipment trifft trotteligen Kamerasklaven)

Für mich ist nur díe Zungenlänge bei einem Haustier von Interesse. Wenn diese meinen Ansprüchen genügt, bekommt das Tierchen ein Halsband und eine Leine, mehr steht ihm nicht zu. Und mehr brauche ich auch nicht, um ihm Gehorsam beizubringen.

Meine Lackstiefel sollen schön glänzen. Dafür bedarf es langer, gleichmäßiger Zungenstriche. Natürlich versteht dieser hirnlose Schwanzträger nicht, was ich von ihm verlange. Harte Worte, Ohrfeigen und díe strickte Führung per Kette machen es ihm nach mehreren Anläufen verständlich. Doch muss ich wiederholt feststellen, dass nicht nur seine Zunge meine noblen Stiefel berührt, sondern unzulässigerweise auch seine haarigen Wangen. Nach entsprechenden "Anreizen", funktioniert er wieder richtig und ich gewähre ihm meine Stiefelsohlen zu lecken. Und er darf sogar meine Absätze lutschen. Er sabbert dabei wie ein blödes Schwein. Also trockne ich meine Sohlen auf ihm, nutze seinen wertlosen Körper als Handtuch für meine edlen Sohlen. Danach darf er für díe Nacht auf meinen Balkon.

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Note: There are a few moments of blur (high end equipment meets clumsy camera slave)

For me only the length of the tongue in a pet is of interest. If this meets my requirements, the little anímal gets a collar and a leash, that's all it's entitled to. And that's all I need to teach him obedience.

My patent leather boots should shine beautifully. This requires long, even tongue strokes. Of course, this brainless cock-bearer doesn't understand what I'm asking of him. Harsh words, slaps in the face and being guided by a chain made him understand after several attempts. But I repeatedly have to state that not only his tongue touches my noble boots but inadmissibly also his hairy cheeks. After appropriate "stimuli", he functions properly again and I allow him to lick the soles of my boots. And he can even suck my heels. He drools like a stupid pig. So I dry my soles on him, use his worthless body as a towel for my precious soles. After that, he's allowed on my balcony for the night.