Why should it matter to us

if they don’t approve?


Why not both?

Thinking about her being clammy makes me clammy…

If you’re finding it difficult to relax, try explaining to her that you’d just rather she got a second opinion from a male dentist before drilling.  I’m sure she won’t mind.

Obviously.  Although it looks like it’s already got a lot of toppings, so maybe no need?

My SO sometimes forgets why she’s doing things even after starting.  The other day, we were about ten minutes into a judicial caning when she paused and confessed shamefacedly that she’d forgotten entirely what I was being beaten for!  How we laughed.  Later that day she remembered, fortunately, and she took the trouble to sort it out properly.

Losing touch with reality



OK, Mr Jones, so you’re saying that rather than seeing me – a
middle-aged medical professional – you’re seeing a young lady dressed like a
strippagram nurse, wearing red thigh-high boots? And instead of being about to
lie down on my couch for a series of ocular function tests, you’re going to be
tightly strapped down to a hospital bed and masturbated to a series of forced


How about now, if I stand up and move away from the couch –
can you see me now?  Dark blue suit,
short grey hair…?  What do you see?


ReallyOh dear.  Well, I might have looked a little like that
thirty years ago… but only a  little.  And I don’t think I’ve ever worn a latex dress.

Things are worse than I thought, I’m afraid.  This is perhaps the most sustained and
coherent set of hallucinations I’ve ever encountered from someone in your
condition.  I’m sorry to have to tell you that without
effective treatment, this is only going to get worse.  I’ll be completely honest with you:
you could end up losing touch with reality completely… these hallucinations
would become your world.  You’d obviously
have to stay in a care facility… you’d be well fed and perfectly comfortable,
but you’d have no interactions with the real world at all; everything you see
and experience would be translated into these bizarre, fetishistic BDSM

Let’s delay the ocular tests for now – I want to tell you
about an experimental treatment we can try. 
It hasn’t completed all of its clinical trials yet, but initial
indications are promising so it is available for use, if the patient requests
it.  I’m not saying you should or that
you shouldn’t.  But unless you want to
spend the rest of your life like this, I think it’s the only option.  If it works, these hallucinations will end at
once – for good.  That has to be worth a
try, I’d have thought.  But it’ll be your

Tell you what: I’m going to refer you to one of my
colleagues, Dr Stevens. She is the specialist on this and she can give you some
literature about it and answer any questions you might have.

Oh – here she is now, actually.  Dr Stevens?


Poor chap.  I do hope they can cure him.

Formal disciplinary procedures

 I was once threatened with ‘formal disciplinary procedures’ by the Head of Human Resources at a company I was working for.  Needless to say, I initially misinterpreted her offer!  So it nearly got quite embarrassing but as soon as she explained that she wasn’t speaking about HR matters in a work context, but just wanted to put me across her lap and spank my naughty bottom, we both relaxed and ended up having rather a fun evening.


worry, it doesn’t stay that impersonal.  She has pet names for each of
her favourite interns – and for those she most dislikes, too, oddly

She likes to give direct feedback on her employees’ performance, so she’ll probably end up asking if she can borrow the remote.

Expensive things.  That’s why they call them ‘expenses’ after all.

Guys who sexualise and objectify women in a work context are the worst, aren’t they?  I’m glad I published this post, so I can make my views on that clear.

What a very understanding work environment.  Basically, they are creating an unsafe space just for you.  I hope you’ll be suitably grateful.

Keep smiling through

Fans (there aren’t many) of the Downton Domination series here probably, like me, feel a subtle frisson when contemplating the nannies, chaste husbands and simply frightfully modern lesbians who feature in those tales.  How can we simply enjoy tales of thrashings, chastity and forced homosexuality among this carefree inter-war generation, knowing the global catastrophe that was to overtake them in a few short years?  I don’t know about you, but I for one cannot enjoy a good wank to femdom porn, in the presence of uncertainty about how it relates to the rise of global fascism and the collapse of the false hope of international order founded on the League of Nations.

So today we run the reel of history forward, so to speak, to see the heroism of ordinary women and men – mainly women, obviously – from the darkest days of the Blitz through to the triumph of democracy.

NB: before anyone points it out, yes I realise the same lovely lady appears in several different roles in these images. She is not simultaneously a British secret agent, a headmistress of a rather superior girls’ school and a gallant Frenchwoman risking all to shelter a downed British airman.  She is an actress.

Sexually implicit


She must have read my mind.





Someone once said that marriage is a negotiation – but I find that turns out mostly to be pleading too.




It’s not a protest song.  She’s just fine with things as they are.





You’re probably wondering what sort of tiles Chloe and she are looking for.  I’ll make sure to ask, if I see her, OK?



…and the session will be held in an under-heated prefab with a leaky roof.

Location location location

Some weeks ago, Paltego posted a picture of the lovely Miss Chambers, from a Cruella photoshoot, pictured against a rather bleak post-industrial Northern British landscape.  Something like this:




There being little point in debating the unquestionable beauty of Miss Chambers (especially her lovely nose) the comments rather degenerated into an exchange about femdom shoots in bleak, unromantic spots.

Never one to miss an opportunity to do something derivative and run with it until it is no longer remotely funny or sexy, I decided to look through my extensive photo collection, with a view to identifying the bleakest background I could find.  After realising that Cruella would win any such contest hands-down, I limited Mr Rogue-Hagen’s entries to give others a chance.  

Obviously, interior shots of prison-like or dungeon-like backgrounds don’t count as those are supposed to look like that, and in some cases have probably been quite expensively fitted out to look grim.*  Nor do I feature arty and moody black and white shots against ruins – the criterion today is that the lady has to be trying to look alluring against a thoroughly unhelpful background.

All from Europe, as far as I can tell, if you include Russia, which has its share of bleak post-industrial landscapes.  In the US, according to my photographic evidence, dommes don’t go out much but on the basis of the few photos I have of them outside, most of the surface area of the USA is covered with swimming pools.  I guess there just aren’t any bleak urban or postindustrial landscapes in America, huh?  What a nice place it must be.

Let’s start with some classic Cruella.  Cow-shed.

Or this – this I think is from the photoshoot ‘Cement Plant Cruelty’ or possibly ‘Enslaved and forced to quarry limestone’.

Lest anyone think I am taking the piss out of Cruella, I… well, I am, obviously, but affectionately I hope.  I love Cruella; it was almost the first ‘proper’ femdom material I encountered and my heart used to hit 150 beats per minute when I saw any of these pictures.  The material and stories were and are wonderful, and I encourage you to visit Mr Rogue-Hagen’s site, where he has just reposted one of the most viciously delightful stories his magazines ever featured, the tale of the lovely Melody, a girl as sweet as the pears she loves so much.

The Germans can do it too, although their photoshoots often have more stuff in them, as befits an economy specialising in exports of light manufactures. Here’s Planet Femdom, where they like their dommes tall.  And then put them in super-high heels, just to make sure. (But it doesn’t seem to exist any more…. am I getting old?)

Not sure of the location, but a bonus point for this next one, for the plastic sheeting providing a temporary roof.  I want to know if they put that in specially for the photoshoot: to make it nice.

Further afield, there’s ‘bleak’ and then there’s ‘Russian bleak’…

Still in Russia, I have no particular reason to think this is an unpleasant location, but the lady on the left seems to be huddled in a shawl, wishing the photoshoot to be over so she can go and have a nice hot chocolate and get warm again.  And her shoes are falling off, the poor thing.  So I just feel for her and the photo gets an honourable mention for that.  There’s a naked slave too, but he probably deserves to be cold, the little creep.

PS – I only just noticed they’re sharing the shawl.  Did you notice that?  See, they’re not so heartless.

Moving slightly further west, Mistress Maya Sin does fabulously creative photo-shoots.  She started in Gdansk, which obviously gives her an advantage in this contest as what is Gdansk famous for?  Yes, apart from being the place WW2 started?  That’s right: the shipyard.  So where else is a girl from Gdansk (or a domme from Danzig) to go?  Here’s Maya Sin in the birthplace of Solidarnosc.  Probably.

This next one could be an easy contender for the prize, in that wily Miss Sin has managed to take the photo inside some giant piece of industrial machinery!  But then she ruins the whole thing by not actually being in the shot, which is always a drawback in any photoshoot of a beautiful domme and strictly against the rules of this competition.

Since taking these pictures, Mistress Maya has abandoned all hope of winning this competition, by moving to Paris (stop press: or maybe Dubai?) where she has herself photographed walking around in latex against some of the most elegant scenery in Europe (and managing herself to look more elegant still).  So this may be the last Gdansk femdom photoshoot you’ll ever see.



The railway tracks would not in themselves be enough to qualify, but just look at those girders!  No, I said look at those – oh, never mind.






More heavy metal.  Unlike the Russian ladies earlier, this lovely nymph is in more danger of encountering too much heat than too little.  See the way she is carefully not allowing her latex leggings to come into contact with the sunlit metal?  That’s professionalism.


OK, now this is not a bleak post-industrial landscape as far as we can see.  But it might be a kebab van.  I reckon a kebab van qualifies.  Especially a kebab van missing wheels and headlights.

The next is not actually a femdom photoshoot, just a grab from the perviest thing ever to appear on a family TV programme at teatime: The worm that turned, in the 1970/80s comedy show The Two Ronnies.  My eternal thanks – on behalf of my 12 year-old self – to whatever BBC producer decided there was nothing at all wrong with this, as it was obviously just a lighthearted romp through a future female-supremacist England, featuring gestapo girls clad in military caps, tight latex tops and shorts and boots… oh, and men forced to cross-dress and ordered around or sexually molested by women.**  Y’know: for the kids!  Certainly for this kid, anyway.

But it features an electricity sub-station, so it’s in.

And finally… I think we have a winner.  It’s not anything in particular, it’s just… someone strapped naked to a concrete pole in a rather run-down post industrial town.  Who finds that sexy?  I do, actually, very – but who else, I mean?

Oh goodness me, I think that’s enough bleak landscapes, don’t you?  Shall we just stop all this nonsense and refresh the palate with a lovely picture of the lovely Miss Chambers, against a perfectly normal background?  Yes, I think we shall.

Did you enjoy that?  I did.  In fact, I enjoyed it so much I think I’ll have another.

There.  Such a pretty nose. That’s all for today.  Off you go now.

* And in others clearly haven’t, as the ‘forbidding grey stone blocks’ of the dungeon wall are obviously cheap cladding or even just wallpaper.  Maybe one day I’ll run a ‘least convincing dungeon’ post.

** No really. This isn’t one of those TV comedies where there’s, like, three seconds of a lady in boots snarling at the camera and that’s all the femdom.  Week after week, this comedy adventure serial in the middle of one of the country’s most popular prime-time family shows featured the squad of latex lovelies shown there marching around and oppressing males.  OK, they were usually outwitted by the male heroes in their frumpy dresses, but this was simply amazing.  Still is.


Actually, the silver brushes are worse – just ask your future father-in-law while you’re doing chores.




It’s not fair to expect her to whip you every time something needs doing, now, is it?

It’s good they’re talking about money, though: many couples don’t and it can lead to a lot of pain in their relationships.

He thought that a biology-class themed session would be all about sex, but instead he’s learning lots of useful facts.

I find that having a pair of electrodes nestling lovingly against my skin helps keep me closely in touch with her feelings.  I wouldn’t have it any other way, even if I could.




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