My Femdom Holiday In Malta
After a long break I’m finally back. Fembruary was a very busy time for me as I’ll be illustrating in some future posts, as you can probably tell keeping your slave boy in a cycle of feminisation and torment for 28 days is some tiring stuff. As such I haven’t had much time or passion for writing on this blog. Don’t get me wrong though, I have quickly come to like this blog. Compared to my Twitter which is mainly fantasy content, here I can talk about my real life and experiences.
And I feel like you as a community are interested to hear more. So I decided to stop waiting for a spark to come back, and to finally force it back. So regardless of how tough it is to be sitting at this computer trying to think about what to type, so tough I’m having my slave boy lick my feet to relax me, I’m going to be telling you today about one of my experiences. You see, up until last Christmas I hadn’t been abroad with my slave boy.
In fact the last time I went on holiday with a sub was 2017, that being with a sub who is long gone now, though that’s a story for another time. Regardless, this year I wanted to go somewhere with my slave boy. Somewhere that was warm even in the winter but not too hot. In the end we, or rather I, decided on going to Malta. I hadn’t gotten to go in years but it had always been on my list: a Mediterranean gem, rich in history, surrounded by dazzling blue waters. What better place to spend a week unwinding?
Of course this time would be somewhat different, I’d be going with someone who was both the love of my life and my devoted slave. That would definitely spice things up. Before anyone asks, no don’t worry, my slave wasn’t able to use the airport as an excuse to get out of chastity. He attempted to make that sort of suggestion, but his steel chastity was quickly replaced by one of a similar shape and size but completely made up of plastic, perfect for ensuring his dick stays just where it belongs.
So naturally on the way there we avoided any sort of issues around his cage. As well as catching some sun and relaxation, I wanted this to be a time to experiment with (albeit very subtle) public play. I think people who express femdom too much in public disregard the clear fact that there are people who did not consent to seeing that and even worse, children. They don’t want to be seeing things in too much detail.
But public play can still take place, in how it can be a dirty little secret between just the two of you. Subtle things it would take a lot of focusing for a person to clock it. I had ideas in my mind and packed some kinky stuff accordingly. I brought a butt plug, some panties I thought it would be fun to make him wear during the day, a vibrating butt plug and a few other bits like a paddle. Oh and a LOT of gags.
The resort we were going to looked like a peaceful one, with not a lot of people in it during December. No matter what I did to him, my boy would have to shut the fuck up somehow. But don’t forget my life isn’t just kink. Yes he is my slave, but I also love him. I wouldn’t call him a boyfriend as at 32 I feel I’m a bit past that. Our relationship is both an exchange of power and an exchange of love, so going somewhere so romantic would be magical.
The moment I stepped off the plane, the warm breeze kissed my skin. December in England had been dreary, but Malta welcomed me with open arms and 20-degree sunshine. A short taxi ride later, we arrived at our resort near Valletta, the island’s capital. Our room had a balcony overlooking the sea—exactly the view I needed. It was a long journey but these things don’t phase my sub all that much. He massaged my feet and drew a warm bath that we shared together. Being around my naked body must have been torture for his cock in its cage but I’d outlawed complaining about such things ages ago.
Afterwards I told him to make me cum with his tongue, he never used to be the best as it but now after a year of training he knows just how to make me feel good. By the end of that I was thoroughly relaxed. After that we headed straight out. Valletta was even more charming than I’d imagined—cobbled streets, honey-colored buildings, and colorful balconies. Together, hand in hand, we wandered aimlessly, letting the city reveal itself.
For the sake of not being too boring, I won’t go in depth into every single day, what I will do instead is tell you about some key events that took place.
St. John’s Co-Cathedral took my breath away—the gold, the marble, the sheer grandeur of it all. It was hard to believe such a small island had such a rich past, shaped by the Knights of St. John, the British, and so many others.
I had a lot of fun stuffing a gag into my slave’s mouth and spanking him hard, seeing how quiet he could remain. It was an extra spank for every noise I deemed too loud. Once I was done I slipped a butt plug inside of him and it was so cute seeing him squirm in his seat whilst we head breakfast, cock throbbing and trying not to whimper.
We hopped on a ferry to the Three Cities, where time seemed to slow down. Vittoriosa, with its quiet streets and ancient forts, felt like stepping into another era. We spent the afternoon at a harborside restaurant, sipping a glass of crisp Maltese wine as the boats bobbed in the water.
Of course when out in public our dynamic is slightly more visible, but to most it probably looks like my sub is just an extra chivalrous gentleman, a rare thing nowadays. Stuff like pulling out my chair, tying my shoelaces and carrying everything. Essentially I was his queen, that is how he treated me.
Speaking of chivalry, I had a funny exchange with a wonderful French woman (French being my mother tongue) she commented on my slave carrying all my bags, saying he was a good boy. Don’t get me wrong, she hadn’t clocked he was my slave, and she definitely didn’t mean it in a femdom way. I could tell at the time it was more of a “he’s such a gentleman” way. But my sub didn’t understand any of it and just stood there smiling politely.
Midway through the trip, we took a ferry to Gozo. If Malta was charming, Gozo was pure magic. More rural, more relaxed, and somehow even more beautiful. We rented bikes and cycled through rolling hills, past quaint villages and stunning coastal cliffs. The Azure Window was long gone, but its spirit remained in the dramatic landscape.
We found a quiet spot at Ramla Bay, the island’s famous red sand beach, and let the world fade away. With the sound of waves and the warmth of the sun, I felt lighter than I had in months.
We didn’t even have to be out of the hotel for it to be heavenly. By the balcony I sat writing (what it was I was writing you’ll get to find out eventually), with my sub either working out in the gym downstairs or making sure I had everything I needed. A crisp Coke was poured when I wanted it, or my feet massaged, or a piece of cake brought from the patisserie they had on site. To be completely honest, it was pure heaven.
On the final evening, we made our way to Mdina, the Silent City. As the sun set over the ancient walls, casting a golden glow over the island, I knew I’d found a new favorite place. We sat at a rooftop restaurant, eating fresh seafood and watching the twinkling lights below.
Malta had been everything we’d hoped for—history, adventure, romance, and a chance to breathe. As my slave boy packed my bags the next morning, I promised myself I’d return. Because some places don’t just steal your heart—they make it beat differently.
That was my Christmas holiday in Malta. Once again, I haven’t been able to post on here much but writing this may have just reinvigorated my passion. It’s only been a few months but when you have a life like mine it is very eventful, I have adventures to tell you of here, from my slave boy’s 365 day long chastity sentence, to the antic of Fembruary. Life moves fast and I can’t document every moment, but I enjoy to when I find the time.
Thanks for reading!
