February 2019 – Contemplating the divine

Once upon a time…

She decided on “Whiney” in the end. It seemed appropriate.

My SO can do that. Just a few swishes of her magic wand and the housework begins – all without her lifting a finger.

Ribbit

Actually, that’s not true. There was a woodman – still is, actually, somewhere. I expect she’s got her reasons for keeping him hidden.

Some day her Prince will come. You’ll be in the cucky cupboard when he does, obviously.

…and they all… well, almost all of them, the ones that mattered anyway… lived happily ever after.

She says…

… now baby just you shut your mouth.

Not complaining. It’s just that I usually make it through the first three minutes without one, that’s all.

Try to be reasonable. She is. She sees good in everyone actually – a rare gift.

Obviously, it’s all perfectly consensual. She asked for her husband to be beaten. And she’s got a safeword – you know, just in case it goes too far.

My SO and I are actually playing what I’m fairly sure is the longest game of tease and denial ever right now. We started on our wedding night and it’s just amazing. I tried calling the Guinness Book of Records people but they said it didn’t count because I am such a sad little loser.

Downton domination. More of these to come.

Fail better

I do that. I’m really good at failing, actually.

A bit of a shame to call in sick – the girls at work recognised you and have something special planned, whenever you’re next in the office.

Marriage is always a learning experience. She’s just determined to make the learning experience a bit more structured, that’s all.

I’ve always tried to use humour to defuse tense situations. On my very first… time with a woman, if you know what I mean, I was very nervous indeed. Fortunately she burst out laughing as soon as I’d taken my clothes off, and she was still giggling when her taxi arrived ten minutes later. I’ve always been able to make women laugh: it’s a gift.

I suppose that must mean she has a basement too – they’re all the same, the houses on that row. I wonder what she keeps down there?

Funnily enough, it turns out Prop 677 wasn’t even necessary. Enough Californians worship Anne as a goddess for her to qualify for the religious exemption, so she didn’t have to pay taxes anyway. Still: it was a nice gesture.

Thigh five

… which is obviously a made-up phrase. Oddly, though, there are many two-word phrases in the English language beginning with the word ‘thigh’ and every single one of them is erotic. Strange but true.

Unlike, say, the words ‘rancid’ or ‘viscous’, unless you’re really weird and we don’t like weirdos on this blog, thank you very much.


You can do anything*, but don’t wank on my black suede boots.

* No you can’t.

You might imagine that this young lady is headed for a stellar career as a professional dominatrix, but as things turned out she actually became the head of Ryanair’s Customer Complaints department. So there you go.

Dave’s need is greater than yours. Well.. his cock certainly is, anyway.

It’s OK as long as I keep my mind off all thoughts sexual

Ocasionally, when I have an idea for a caption, I’ll worry that one of the many, many other femdom caption sites on the Internet will already have done it. This one, not so much.

And I will bare my soul in time

…when I’m kneeling at your feet.

I think we can agree, though, that it’s hardly femdom to expect men to do their share of the ironing. Including – obviously – making up for the backlog of several thousand years when they didn’t.

So we did. I wonder what we’ll decide today.

Good thing there’s a woman in charge to take those tough decisions.

Sissy didn’t actually understand the book anyway. Men should go out to work, take decsions, look after their own lives? Terrifiying.

It’s a bluff. I think it’s a bluff.

Turning, pointing and all that

More turning points! Phew.

Reader: I pegged him

Even more hot chicks in empire-line dresses! One of the earliest CtD posts – probably dating from the 18th century itself, truth be told, but re-posted in 2011, dealt with this highly topical theme.

To quote that early post:

“Well-born males degradingly forced to engage in social intercourse with ladies below their proper station! Wild tea dances!

Remember, you saw it here first! And probably last.”

Little did I know…. eight years on, same old nonsense.

Advertising Spot

Thanks for coming in – listen, we’re really excited about
this campaign and it would be great to have you on board! I don’t know how much you’ve been told? The client’s a major supplier of household
products and they’ve got this premium dog food product, yeah?

So: the spot opens in the… well, the ‘dungeon’, I guess, of
a dominatrix. And she’s got a slave on
the floor in front of her –that’s you! – and we see her grab a can of generic
dog-food and pour it into a bowl in front of him. Really nasty stuff – you know? Slops into the bowl and glistens
unappealingly. Slave takes a sniff and retches, refuses, so she pushes his head
into the bowl with her boot and starts whipping him – and she whips him harder
and harder, until he’s eaten the whole thing.
We see him taking mouthfuls and swallowing with disgust – that’s important.
Then we see him dressed, thanking her for the session and he goes outside and
is violently sick on the street. With me so far?

OK, then we see him arrive for his next session, and he’s
casting nervous glances at the shelf where she keeps her dog food as he hands
over the tribute, see? But this time
when he’s naked at her feet, she grabs a can of the Product, and tips it into
his bowl. Lovely chunks this time, with translucent jelly just catching the
coloured dungeon lights – mmm. Slave
sniffs nervously, looks surprised, starts eating it and then begins wolfing it
down, you know? Can’t get enough! And we
finish with him in doggy-begging mode below the shelf, barking excitedly up at
another can of the Product, as his mistress stares at the empty bowl in puzzled
disappointment.

We were originally going to use actors and beef stew, but it
wouldn’t be legal to show someone eating stuff that isn’t actually the Product, you know? That would be false advertising.

So… we asked around if anyone knew
anyone and Lucy in accounts – she’s in accounts but she really wants to join the creative team – Lucy said she knows a findomme with piggie slaves who’ll do
anything she tells them and… well, here you are!

There’s be quite a lot of money in it. The client sells in
over 30 countries, and the packaging is different in most of them so we’ll have
to re-shoot. You have to eat it again each time, too – pesky advertising laws,
I’m afraid. And the nasty competitor
product. We were a bit worried about the whip marks, but Sophie thought we
could just completely cover your back with them to begin with – like you’d
already had a good thrashing, yeah? – so there wouldn’t be continuity problems
with that. Of course, we won’t make you do more than seven or eight spots in
any one day. But you get paid for each
you see – well, or rather your findomme does, I suppose.

So – you up for it? Obviously, you can only sign the
contract of your own free will, but if you need a day or two for someone to
force you to agree, we don’t have to sign today?

THE END

Epilogue

Actually, this was just the start. Lucky old Spot (yeah, the slave’s called Spot…bit of a coincidence, I know) went on to star in a wildly popular campaign for a well-known brand of toilet cleaner. Again, a frustrated domme finds that when she’s used the Product, her toilet no longer tastes foul, so she ends up having to take him out to lick a public urinal clean. Last I heard, he was getting so many offers his findomme had decided he should resign from his day job and do it full time – pretty great, huh?

Uncharacteristic boasting

Incidentally, if you’re ‘reading’ this far (and you shouldn’t, it’s unhealthy to edge for too long – go on, get it out. There. That’s right. Phew – isn’t that better?), you might want to know that January 2019 was the most popular month in this blog’s history. More than seventeen pageviews from at least four separate people… no, actually, I’m pretty sure it was more than seventeen… ah yes, that’s right, over 100,000, that’s it. The pageview count went over 100,000 in the month for the first time ever. It’s almost exactly eight years since the blog started: 7.5 million page-views, over 1000 comments. Goodness me, if this keeps up, how ever will I be able to maintain my self-image as a worthless loser?

Thank you all – keep on coming.*

OK, so some of it is probably people not using Tumblr so much. Still…

* Yes, I know. Sorry. But after all those page-views you are used to it by now, right?

Fear and loving

They go together so well. More common than you might think.

In the – very unlikely – event that it does start giving you punishment-level shocks, there’s a helpline you can call that’s open every single day between 10 and 4, and usually only has a very short waiting time. So… nothing to worry about.

That’s the thing about a good thrashing with a cane: it’s so straightforward. You know where you stand (corner, usually).

And there’s some lubricant in case any chafing symptoms emerge, for whatever reason.

Don’t worry: she’s planning to consummate the marriage. Just not with you.

I’ve always thought the mens lib movement would be much more effective if they just recognised reality and put a woman in charge. But they like to try to do things by themselves, bless them.