Girls are Evil

It is true, we are all a little blood thirsty; or a lot blood thirsty.

Certainly it is possible to curb misandry with logical thoughts of particular versus general fault, but where is the pleasurable gain in that? Not all girls relish in vivid fantasy of hitting guys where it hurts, but most do, and some love to indulge.

I am not addicted to ball busting, I simply demand it because I am a Princess.

Emasculating by blunt force is the tuning fork for My inner serenity and bliss. Catering to My madness requires dedication, and a resilient pair of balls. Know your place beneath My heel and accept every punch, kick, and whack with honorable subordination to your cause for your superior. 

Flamboyant masculinity sickens Me, and I will seek to correct it with a firm hand, and a committed foot, directly where it stems, at the odious well of libido between a mans legs. 

Surrender your unworthy dangly parts for My wicked indulgence. The screams of your torment are the elixir I seek for the vice which burns deep withing Me.

Denver Dominatrix Isobel Devi punishing a man
These things are broken or something. Maybe a couple of whacks will fix them.
Denver Mistress Isobel Devi punishing a man over her lap.
Regular spankings are not working on you, maybe spanking your balls will work best.

Swing

The swing-set is my favorite playground item. It is the feeling of weightlessness at the ends of each swing that spins My mind into a serene kind of frenzy. As I gained air and momentum, My white dress flared up to catch the wind. I stretched My pale little feet out as far as I could shooting up and then back. 

From way up high at the beginning of another exciting swing I spotted a man-boy approaching with his hands held wide as if to receive Me for a big embrace. He was statured like a man, but had the look of a boy; lightly freckled skin, perfect blue eyes. He was very near now, almost beneath Me, perhaps looking up My dress which  had taken to streaming behind Me like a long angelic tail. 

I saw his beautiful face arranged perfectly for kissing, and as My gondola of joy brought Me down to My cortier I dismissed it all for what appeared to be a target, right between his legs. It beseeched Me and I obliged, landing My tiny slippered foot right on the target. I felt the dull impact, like stepping on an expired wafer, against the body of My little foot. The squishy flesh beneath his crunchy gentleman pants gave way, almost enveloping its attacker. Simultaneously the impact sent him to his toes, his eyes widening to accept the gesture with stoic gratitude. 

My seat swung back sharply, pulling Me back on course against all physical reason. From the pinnacle I saw him again below Me, waiting, and I came down for another bull’s eye, laughing with maniacal pleasure as I descended. This time he became air borne, his face of masochistic bliss even more distorted, smiling at Me.

I kicked the man in the genitals again, and again until his head grew large with pressure like a balloon and finally burst, propagating a colorful shower of marshmallow candy bits. Each little sugar morsel melted into a gooey frosting as it rained down upon Me and the playground. 

A drowning sensation woke Me from My dream. Have you had any kinky dreams lately? Share them in the comments or if you are shy in a private conversation with me.

Torture…

When dealing with a sadist, torture can be quite inevitable. But why attempt such robbery to one’s self? Behind the complex fabric of our existence, delicate math erects the foundation of all that was, is, and will be. There are equalities and inequalities, and each is addressed respectively to derive the optimal result.

If you wish to make a sadist happy, because Her laugh is sweeter than any other poison to cross your lips, you will simply have to endure the torture which fills her black heart with glee. There are formulas for this, but My suggestion will be blind trust, for optimal benefit. I know you want to hurt for Me, as much I want to elicit the torment from your voice in chilling howls and desperate pleas. 

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