Girlish brutality

Speaking of which, I thought I’d just share with a little thing that happened to me yesterday – in real life, I mean, not ‘Servitor’ life.

So I was leaving Starbucks (in Paris) and there was this young woman coming in, so I held the door open for her and vaguely smiled as she went past, as you do.  And you know, she didn’t acknowledge me?  Not even a nod, just strode through, head held high, ignoring me as if I were merely part of the furniture.

I mean, can you believe some people?

I thought about that all day.  Wonderful!  What bliss it is to be alive, and all that.

Anyway, true story.  Now on with the stuff that isn’t.


Subsequently twice married to a billionaire, this one. Not bad, is it? The same billionaire twice, I mean, not two billionaires.  I don’t suppose he got the hockey stick treatment… but you never know, he might have done.




Don’t forget to include a little gift (or, better, a large one) in your thank-you email, so she’ll know you mean it.




Mistress is cleverer than you.  Do try to remember that, OK sweetie?  I know it’s not easy, remembering stuff.


 

 

He still screams of course – in fact, these days he often starts screaming before they even start, as he knows what’s coming.  But it’s lost that element of surprise, that’s all she’s saying. Time for a bit of a change.




The very idea!  He’s got a lot to learn.



Blonde ambition

In trying to come up with that title, I was thinking of ‘Blonde justice’ and had a sneaking suspicion I’d used it before, so I searched and found… oh dear, four posts all called ‘Blonde justice’. Is the blog really so forgettable, even for me?  Maybe been going too long… but I’ve still got another 2772 captioned images unposted and I write more all the time, so I’m afraid we’re just going to have to carry on.

Anyway, blonde post.  Yes, of course Mistress Eleise is in it.  Did you really need to ask?

Obviously, it’s going to be very painful – it often is when a relationship ends – but don’t worry: one day she’ll look back on it and laugh.  Possibly even next Thursday, when you come home with that funny bruised face.



Why should he mind?  Why should she care if he does?




She’ll freely admit she’s a trophy wife.  First prize in the ‘deluded and regretful old fool’ category.


I hate hypothetical questions.  Strap me to the gurney and let me see the scalpels, then it will feel more like a real choice, that’s what I say.  Assuming I’m still allowed to choose.


If you keep it up long enough, even an obese 220-pound man can easily lose as much as…well, 220 pounds, eventually.  By weight, I mean. A lot more pounds sterling, obviously but who’s counting?


Told you.  She’s magnificent.  What an extraordinary honour and pleasure (and pain) it was for me to session with her a few times, in Paris some years ago.

 

 

In fact… shall we have another Mistress Eleise image?  I say we should and it is my blog, after all.

 

She’s laughing inside.


 

Travesties of injustice

It’s not the masturbating in public I mind, it’s the way she makes me put a collection box out in front for the passers-by, reading “Please Help”.  Mind you, I can make anything up to 60p per session, and that’s almost 1000th of her fee, so it does mean I get to visit her more frequently.

 

 

 

Hmm?  Oh, the extra caption under the photo? Yeah, definitely got one of those around here somewhere.  Hang on…

 

 

Sorry – this was intended for my other blog, dedicated to courier services.  Nothing femdom in this one. I must have copied it into the wrong folder.



 

Health and safety gone mad, if you ask me.

 

The lovely Mistress Sidonia, a staple of the femdom scene.




Good the boys get something to drink too.  Many dominant wives wouldn’t think of that.



 

If it’s Tuesday this must be femdom

Fortunately their arguments are usually quite short.  She’s very sensitive, poor thing – hates it when there’s disagreement in her marriage.

 

 

Her husband’s very sensitive too, which is just the way she likes it.

 

 

“This slave is so privileged to have the honour of directing your divine footsteps, Mistress, and ventures most humbly to suggest that Mistress’s perfect feet should first take a left (by which is meant her left, needless to say, not the left from the perspective of this worthless insect), then…” etc etc.

 

 

Apparently one of his favourite maledom fantasies concerns ‘caning to real tears’.  So he’s in for a real treat today because that’s definitely on the agenda.

 

 

 

Just to be clear: she’s fairly unlikely to hold with that sort on nonsense after the wedding day, either. And there are other words for which you’d be wise not to dispute her definition: ‘husband’, for instance.

 

 

 

Feminine ferocity

It’s important to think about her needs, not just your own selfish desire not to be in agony.


To be fair, many femdom activities seem unlikely to be compatible with evolutionary success.  Chastity, for one.


 

 

Oh good.  I wonder what it is.

 

 

She has testimonials from several hundred eternally unsatisfied clients to prove it.

 

 

 

I’ll go to the end of the line, then.

 

 

 

 

Forbidding ladies

Don’t worry.  One day you’ll no longer be a valuable asset.


 

 

You can still walk away.  For that to happen, you’ll need a degree of conscious control over your limbs, so you might need to wait a few moments.

 

 

 

Some might find it bizarre that he’s the one paying her, really, but we don’t, do we?

 

The extraordinarily wonderful Lady Sophia Black.  But no link to her web site, as she’s retired.  Like Paltego said a couple of weeks ago, you mustn’t  leave it too late – see what you miss out on?

I’m beginning to think she might be taking in laundry from her friends, to earn a little money on the side, the sly old thing.



 

Sorry, readers, I couldn’t resist.  Well… I could have.  But I didn’t.

 

 

Rather tediously, just a quick word about anonymity.  I’m getting more and more comments on the blog, which is absolutely brilliant, and I do try to reply to them all. Blogger provides an option for whether to allow anonymous comments and with some trepidation I switched it on some years back and I have not regretted it.  Almost all comments are fun and kind, I have very, very few trolls and the occasional marketing blurb that escapes the spam filters can easily be deleted (or left up if I think it funny).

So, all good.  But it’s getting harder to reply to all of the anonymous comments as specifically as I’d like.  You are of course welcome to be as anonymous as you want.  Our society is at present sadly unappreciative of males who need to be dressed in little maid outfits and have their naughty bottoms smacked until they squeal (actually, most if not all males need that, but the majority don’t know it yet).  However, if you could try to be just a little less anonymous, that would make the comments section more fun, I think.  Two options.  One: you can set up a Google account in a fake name.  I mean, I myself am not actually called ‘Servitor’ in real life, startlingly enough.  I have a completely separate Windows log-in for naughty stuff and that’s where Servitor lives, when he’s not chained up in the doghouse outside.  Two, if you’re uncomfortable with that you can still be officially ‘Anonymous’ but put some name at the bottom of your comments.  Misses Zoe and Holly do that, so do many others.  Even femsup can manage it, and he’s a worthless, incompetent worm, as I think he’d be the first to admit.  No offence, ‘sup.  

Or don’t.  Up to you.  I won’t delete purely anonymous comments and I’ll keep trying to reply to them.  So there are neither rewards nor consequences for good behaviour in this regard, as this blog is not under proper female supervision.  Just a suggestion.

Goodness, that was a lot of words with no wanking material involved. And there you are, sitting all ready with your trousers down around your ankles. Go on, then, have an extra captioned image of a lovely lady, as a reward for getting this far.

 

 

Quite right.  Back to those chores.


 

Her whip, her rules

 It’s basically self-enforcing.

 

Males who spend their lives being obedient to a dominant female partner and carrying out her every command live longer, you know.  Fact.  They get beaten less often too.

 

Don’t worry, the first performance is just in front of a few special friends.

 

Hands out of your trousers first, OK?  Don’t want to embarrass yourself.


Actually, you can have plans if you like.  She really doesn’t mind one way or the other.

 

To misquote the immortal Bing Hitler (3.15 in): ‘A domme won’t sting ye, as long as ye don’t annoy her… but how dae I know what annoys a domme?!”



United and flexible resolve

The ladies of my ever-unpopular Downton Domination series may appear to live lives of idle luxury.  But it would be a grave error to mistake requiescence for acquiescence, as I’m sure you’ll agree as soon as you’ve looked up what it means.  When Hitler and his gang of thugs made that mistake in 1939, these lionesses answered their country’s call.  Spunk, not funk, was the order of the day.  They did their bit and this blog is proud to remember Downton Domination’s finest hours.

 

 

Not forgetting our gallant and indefatigable allies, of course.  What?  No, not the bloody yanks you damn fool!

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