Stories and pictures themed around female domination and male subjugation and servitude. Unsuitable for children, for alpha males, for hard-core practitioners with an interest in the politics of bdsm and the mechanics of complicated rope work. Of interest to perverts like me, basically.
Today’s special celebrates that most elegant of female footwear (and ankle, calf and, excitingly, occasionally thighwear): the boot. As well as looking and tasting lovely, boots are highly practical and can be used for all kinds of kicking, crushing and treading underfoot. Plus, they’re so easy to get clean and the wearer can even be paid while waiting for the process to be completed to her satisfaction. Boots boots boots boots…*
Both wearing boots in this image. But she’s doing all the work… in so many ways.
She’s blended in quite well with village life: she rides a lot, takes part in the hunt and has even paid to have the quaint old stocks in ther market square repaired and brought back into use.
The delightful Princess Neive, whom I deeply regret never having had the chance to meet when she was working. There are videos of her around… listen to her lovely giggle.
More country pursuits. He provides all the gear they need as well, although some of the whips and sets of spurs are hardly suitable to be used on poor, defenseless horses.
Coincidentally, after his session, her client admitted to being the managing director of one of the largest cold-calling centres in the country. He later regretted telling her that, but she didn’t: she found it motivated her to greater creativity.
Everything my SO says to me is in the imperative, regardless of the precise grammatical form she uses.
I think dommes should tell dumb sub jokes to even the score. “Why did the sub stare for hours at the carton of orange juice?” Because his Mistress fucking told him to.
Occasionally I put found femdom down here. Now this isn’t found femdom. It’s just a funny little video imagining vikings with modern Scandinavian accents and attitudes. But if you watch to the end, the last second or so is just a little bit Contemplating the Divine. Just a little. But it’s not worth skipping to the end, just watch the video if you think the ‘modern viking’ thing sounds amusing and treat the last moment as a bonus.
There’s nothing wrong, of course, with finding humour in femdom. It doesn’t all have to be brutal whippings, torture and opppression inflicted by hard-faced unsmiling females. Brutal whipping, torture and oppression inflicted by happy, giggling females is just as good.
Last session she wanted it done anti-clockwise, I understand. But that was then, now is now.
The nice thing about submissive clients (there has to be something, right?) for the working girls is they can fit their sessions around normal customers. If a guy comes in and asks for Yulia, she can just pop boot-worshipper there into a cupboard in mid-lick, give the normal guy whatever he needs, then let the worm back out for a little used condom play before resuming the fucked-up boot thing. If she remembers he’s there, that is.
How many blondes does it take to change a sexist’s entire outlook on life? Just one, as long as she’s got a whip and he’s got an indefinite sentence. But actually, there are over 10,000 blonde officers in the Male Rehabilitation Service, and more than enough whips to go round, so it doesn’t really work like that in practice.
It’ll probably be easier just to rip the whole thing out and install a completely new unit, which at least gives them an opportunity to find a more attractive male.
Funny how that works. For her. Every time.
By the way, obviously there’s a huge amount of slop out there, so I hesitate to recommend anything AI but there are some occasional interesting bits and pieces. This guy’s little videos are quite fun and nicely done, I think, worth a look.
Another year dawns, full of hope and denial. Wishing all my male readers a humiliating and unpleasant year, in which your desires, dreams and fingertips are all crushed beneath an elegant boot.
No doubt, many of you printed off and proudly hung up last year’s CtD calendar, featuring the moist and pungent girls of our sister publication, Armpit Fetishist Monthly. Slightly pointlessly, because it didn’t actually have any dates on it, but no one ever said males were smart, right?
This year’s calendar is equally pointless, to match your pointless lives. It’s a chastity calendar, or chastendar as no one likes to say, in which the absence of any dates allows you all to avoid the misery of noticing that she has not circled one single day in red. Maybe one day she will? Anyway: another year… 365 days… more than thirty-one million seconds, I understand. Enjoy watching them tick by…
Then he can stop being brave and, indeed, stop being a boy, at least on some definitions.
He might have added a gentle little pat, at times, and they’ll be giving him their own version of that too.
Disobedience is a hard limit for her.
He’s got another uniform just as smart as the one you can see in the picture, but with more lace trimming.
Although if you’ve got an existing organ donor card, apparently that already covers it – you’re considered to have donated any organs that seem unlikely to be put to productive use, so they’re free for the taking. Some men have been a bit surprised to discover that, on waking up from a minor unrelated operation, but it’s right there in the small print.
Oh well, I suppose you can be grateful she’s not getting one of those cow milking devices with four tubes, for doing Robert, you and a couple of others all at the same time. For now.
It’s the latest in an occasional series celebrating the thrill and beauty of non-consensual femdom. Do I need to explain that this is intended to be tongue-in-cheek? I probably do, because most of you are male and thus a bit dim, even when you’re not wanking. In reality, consent is obviously of utmost importance in our weird little corner of the Internet. Any male speaking, acting or holding back money without his domme’s active and conscious permission to do so, is doing femdom wrong.
Yes, it’s Boxing Day. A day I have come to realise is culturally specific to the UK and a few other places that are a bit like the UK, but not as damp and with fewer bat-tunnels. It’s one of those phrases that non-British people often fail to understand, like ‘having a fag in the back alley’ (you can also be a fag, for an older boy at boarding school, of course); or making sure ‘your child always has a rubber in his schoolbag’, as the teachers don’t provide them, or ‘letting some woman piss in your ring-gagged mouth’, which is just an idiomatic way of saying you’ll take her advice (“Oh, I don’t know which movie to go and see, darling: just ring-gag my jaw wide open and you can piss in my mouth, OK?”)*
Anyway, traditionally a day for tidying up after the excesses of the day before, although some people are more active: many hunts go out on Boxing Day, for example, with whips cracking and horns blaring as they pursure their terrified quarry across the fields, and some hardy souls even have a tradition of jumping naked into the sea, here in Britain on one of the coldest days of the year. My SO has very thoughtfully signed me up for all three of these festive activities, so I’ve no time for a themed post, just the usual dross.
Forget Kurt. Well… don’t forget him, obviously: he still needs his laundy done and his appartment cleaned. But the important thing is that your chastity regime should be right for you and that’s what she’s focused on.
Wow, tough situation! Thank goodness she’s there for him.
Looks like babe brought a pineapple, though, and I’m sure there are some bits of that that could be put to good use.
She was a little disappointed that Dr Taylor insisted on anesthetising you for the procedure, but there’ll be plenty of time later, when you’ll have the feeling restored in all of the bits of your body that remain attached.
I booked a ‘mean date’ session with a sex worker and she didn’t even show up! Wonderful. It’s so rare for someone just to ‘get me’ like that.
Some men find it hard to adapt to a female supremacist work environment, but it’s actually very straightforward as long as you just follow a few simple rules – or a lot of complicated rules, if that’s what she prefers.
* All right, I made that last one up. I make a lot of stuff up, here. But you should try it, I mean you never know, right? And there are never any good movies around, just after Christmas, so it’s good to find alternative ways of entertaining yourselves.
It’s the eve of Christmas Eve and it’s all beginning to look a lot like Christmas. In my SO’s household, today’s wrapping day, so she’s busying herself with tape and sparkly ribbon, and soon I’ll be hog-tied under the tree, garlanded with holly and… well, just holly, really, lots of it, all ready to be mocked and abused by her and her guests on the big day. I just hope that if they play ‘pin the tail on the loser’ again, they do it before they’ve had quite so much to drink this year, as last time many of the pins ended up in completely the wrong place! It gave everyone a good laugh, though, and I suppose that’s the main thing. There’s a lot of laughter in the house on Christmas Day and occasionally some tears too… it’s a very special time.
How silly of her not to realise that the solution to her problems is right there in the room with her, even as she speaks. In the chest of drawers, there: third drawer down at the back. You could even plug it in for her, so it has plenty of battery.
He likes to give himself a bit of Christmas cheer by imagining that it’s a stable he’s shivering in and that tin bath in which he’ll be plunging a few days later is a manger. No gold, frankincense or myrrh but she did once put a goat in with him.
She’s generous with her gifts: it’s not just the quantity but she also has a knack for choosing something that is just what he least wanted.
Let’s hope she’;s not disappointed. She’s suffered a lot of disappointment in her marriage, poor thing.
That wooden doll on the table is actually a large nutcracker. One of my SO’s girlfriends got her one just like it, one year, and she spent most of the day playing with it obsessively. One of our more memorable Christmasses.
Try to look pleased, even though it’s what she gets you every Christmas or birthday. She’s not thoughtless or anything, mind you: she does think quite a lot about what present you might like. She just doesn’t care.
I’ll take this opportunity to wish all my male readers a miserable, frustrating and humiliating Christmas. I hope you all get what you deserve.
Turning points! The 45th installment in a series of… oh, I don’t know. How hard and for how long can a dead horse be flogged? And why would anyone want to, when there are live males who are still, laughably, legally considered ‘humans’ to be flogged instead?
Modern best practice in dentistry holds that pain isn’t something to be avoided at all costs, rather something to be managed and they’re experts at that.
Make sure you get the special soap she bought for the purpose; it’s a lot more astringent than anything she’d ever wash with.
A meaningful job supporting others is its own reward.
The lovely Victoria from Cruella, of course, with the obligatory reminder that you can download magazines featuring her, other beautiful ladies and a lot of males with thinning lanky hair and dodgy 1980s moustaches – including this (magazine, not moustache), the cover photo of which is from a simply magnificent set.
Come on now: have you ever heard Janice’s husband complain? About anything? Or any of the other males in Janice’s household, for that matter? Well, then.
She welcomes feedback from male participants too, of course: on their knees and using their tongues, ideally.
In other respects, the two are very similar – the tubes are almost exactly the same size, for instance. Also, my SO likes to grab hold of what’s below the bottom of the tube and twist sharply.
Genital burns can be quite tricky to deal with. I actually help out, by volunteering (OK, ‘Someone’ volunteers me) once a month to let our local female first responders practice treating nasty burns to my penis and balls. I like to feel I’m (OK, She’s) giving something back.
He certainly doesn’t – it was touch and go last time. But that’s his thing, so he keeps making the bookings.
I always think thanks are reward enough. Or mockery and contempt, as I enjoy those too.
You might imagine it’s hard to survive seven gunshots, but with careful aim you should survive long enough to make it worthwhile for her.
It’s not a rhetorical question, as so many questions in the captions here are. The delightfully unsmiling Ms Venten does genuinely want to know what you think, so she can decide whether your opinions as well as your behaviour need to be sorted out.
