A mirror ought to do it.
Don’t worry, she doesn’t object to having your own taste in music, she just won’t allow you to play any of it.
Obviously. Fortunately they have an excellent pain management programme.
Seems a little unfair, as he was paying Supreme Mistress Katharine three times the usual rate already. The lady doing the talking only does vanilla tricks, not femdom, just in case you were thinking of visiting. Says she just doesn’t have the femdom skills, which on the face of it appears to me not to be true, but who am I to argue either with her assertions or her maths?
Don’t let on you’ve never actually done this before. This could be the beginning of a beautiful holiday friendship – or perhaps a rather disgusting but highly practical one, anyway.

Sensual displeasure

My SO called me by the wrong name once… it was a bit difficult: I had to go through all the trouble of changing it legally, so I didn’t have to tell her she was wrong (that can be quite painful), then she remembered and I had to change it back again! Unlike ‘Jerry’ or whatever his name is, I have an entirely unmemorable cock – indeed, women often don’t notice it at all – so that doesn’t help as an aide-memoire. Still, at least I don’t call it ‘sledgehammer’… how embarrassing for him.
Oddly enough, shortly after the Chairman’s ‘business trip’ to the Czech Republic, almost all staff in his company got a pay rise. Women employees did particularly well, taking the female/male pay ratio from 74% to 108%.
Hmm… let’s try. Nope, all good.
Of course, they never forget the Hippocratic oath: first, do no harm, at least not to anyone who doesn’t deserve it or unless you really want to, or it would be funny or something.
There are some very weird fetishes out there. Aren’t you glad you’re normal? I know I am.

Intelligences greater than man’s

minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic...”

It’s a science fiction special.

Actually, he doesn’t even need to access the control software. All the sexbots that can have dominatrix modes enabled come with a safeword on a piece of paper, at the bottom of the box . Unfortunately, the makers imagined their customers reading the instructions leaflet all the way through at the start of the unpacking process, then carefully following the recommended procedure, step by step. Rather than just tearing it open, ignoring the leaflet and powering their new toy up straight away. Forgetting, in short, that their customers were male and unlikely to have a female assisting in the unpacking process of this particular product. Oh well. Think of it as a learning opportunity.

You want to watch out for those dominatrix sex robots…

Girls cosplay Star Trek for the futuristic vision and for the strong character development, boys for the miniskirts and boots.
Galactic law says that a superior species like theirs has to respect the customs of the planet they invade – and that is what they are doing. Just not the human inhabitants’ customs. Spiders live here too… who’s to say we’re right and they’re wrong?
They say that great inventors are rarely appreciated in their own time. Which is not the case here: these two seem to be very appreciative of the technological breakthrough this chap has produced.
As I always say, there’s nothing girls can do that boys can’t, as long as it is explained slowly enough using simple words, and it’s understood that we’ll probably fuck it up.

Incidentally, in the ‘other’ universe Artemis 9 made a flawless re-entry (female pilots…) but there was an unfortunate misunderstanding when the (tragically male) President greeted the returning heroines. In fairness, everyone agreed that he did have a very slappable face.

Delightfully unpleasant

She did initially feel some sympathy… well, pity, anyway, which is practically the same thing.
To be fair, a dentist trying to act as a professional dominatrix for the first time would probably feel a bit unsure of herself too. It’s best to ignore those fearful, nagging voices that say you can’t do it and just have a go.
My SO once made me lick my own feet clean, after a long day’s pony-play. As I’m in my fifties, you might imagine I’m not supple enough easily to get a foot to my mouth, and you’d be right, but fortunately she had a strong bondage harness that could bring disparate parts of my body closer together and with a lot of effort she finally managed to get me buckled into a position where I could reach. The funniest thing was when she released me just a few short hours after I’d finished cleaning my feet: I couldn’t walk and had to lurch around bent double, for a couple of days. How we laughed! Well, one of us did anyway: the one who matters.
She’s quite possessive about stuff; has a controlling personality. She knows about it and tries not to go too far, but mostly she takes the view that people around her just have to learn to accept it.
I think it’s really important that couples should discuss these things. Many ladies new to chastity play might be surprised just how much fun they can have, talking to their partner about the frequency of release or the likelihood of its being imminent.

Unlikely stories

Longtime ‘readers’ will know that this blog takes particular care over the realism of the scenes it depicts. Specifically: nothing here is intended to be even remotely realistic; the blog aims for zero plausibility and I’m proud to say it usually comes pretty close.

Over the years, I’ve presented scenes from a totalitarian female supremacist future, I’ve traced the history of femdom back a few hundred years and I have written sweet lesbian love stories (not in itself unrealistic, but set against a backdrop of thrilling scientific breakthroughs, as well as savage torture scenes usually resulting in the violent death of almost every male character) in the Serena and Alice series.

But I’m confident I have never before put up a post that takes our beloved femdom scene quite as far away from what we normally think of as ‘reality’ than this. Be warned.

Unreasonable demands

Kitten can be awfully careless, with things that aren’t expensive designer items. She can be quite forgetful too, often letting things she said she’d do drift for months at a time. Months and months. But you have to forgive her.
Dommes are goddesses and should just spend their days in leisurely pursuits such as lounging around wearing uncomfortable rubber and leather gear, having the dirt on their boots pointlessly smeared around by a devoted slave’s tongue.
I will proudly bear the marks of any Mistress who chooses to beat me, as long as she doesn’t object to all the snivelling and frantic pleading for mercy that inevitably ensues once I realise that it’s much less fun in reality.
Try to make the most of it: after all, you’ll almost certainly never be as happy again as you are right now, on honeymoon with your beloved.
Schoolgirls hunt in packs – teachers should always remember that. By the way, in case you are worried, they didn’t like, kill, Mr Hargreaves or anything. I’ve been assured he’s still alive, although obviously the location they keep him in is a closely-guarded secret.

Bending to her will

Let’s hope Julie’s not still upset about that bad performance review.  Sometimes feedback can be unpleasant and hard to take – but it just has to be accepted. I hope she understands that.
Remember you’re an individual: you’re not defined entirely by what’s written on your collar.
Ah, teenage masturbation!  Goodness, that seems so long ago now.  How lucky I am that my SO has put all that well and truly behind me.
The boots are a lot tastier than the airline food.
The female orgasm can be a mysterious – and very painful – thing.

Femdom Chat session

Oh hi, Mr Folkes. Yeah, I’ve drafted that report like you asked me.  Sorry it took so long. I’ve tried to make it read like you wrote it yourself, like you asked.

Actually… well, if you’re interested, I thought I’d try something a bit hi tech, since no one else seemed to want to give the intern work.  See, I realised there’s probably quite a lot of stuff out there that you’ve written, so one of these AI thingies ought to be able to write in your own style. Right? So I gave that ChatGPT thing a prompt about the report topic and ‘in the style of Mr Adrian Folkes’ and so on.  But it came up with the weirdest stuff!

Look: here’s the bit about the new marketing initiative in Scotland:

Douglas fidgeted nervously as he stood in regulation shorts and cap outside Mrs Harcastle’s oak door.  The quarterly sales figures were down by over 15%. Something would undoubtedly be said about that, he knew, and something would be done too.  His heart sank as he contemplated that prospect. It was going to be hard, there was no point in pretending otherwise.

Come!” he heard, and he tried to control the butterflies in his stomach as he turned the door handle.  Mrs Hardcastle was standing there, the dreaded three-tailed tawse in one hand, his report in the other.

“So it seems middle-class ladies from Lothian in their fifties are particularly displeased with your performance, boy!” she sniffed, disapprovingly.  “That most certainly includes me and I do not propose to leave the matter unremedied.  Clearly, my previous efforts have not been sufficient and a more… vigorous approach is called for. Trousers down and bend over my desk.”

See what I mean?  It’s… kind of about the Scottish marketing initiative but… weird.

Here’s another about the new office in Prague:

Madame Loreen leaned back, allowing the heels of her boots to scrape the pallid back of the quaking slave kneeling before her.  The furniture in the new facility was barely adequate, she reflected, noting that the criss-crossed whip marks on her footstool’s buttocks suggested that her colleagues thought the same.  Furthermore, the artwork that was supposed to decorate the walls had not yet arrived, so the Ladies had tried to brighten the place up by dangling slaves from steel manacles across most of the walls. At least the electricity was working, she thought, watching the slave on the wall before her jerk frantically, mewing into his gag, as the electrodes clamped to his nipples delivered random jolts of electricity.

Clearly, the contractor had failed in the tasks assigned to him. A special meeting had been arranged, at which all the Ladies would have a chance to express their displeasure with him. Her fingers curled reflexively around the handle of her bullwhip as she thought about that.

Yeah.  It just produced something like that every time. Every item I tried: the GPT wrote up your monthly finance analysis as something about a princess and her ‘pay piggies’ for instance and it suggested replacing the contract cleaners with senior male managers dressed as little maids and spanking them until they met their targets. Oh, and the stuff about performance management was just brutal.

It’s weird isn’t it?  Do you suppose there must be another Adrian Folkes out there, writing stuff like that?  Only, I gave it your address and everything, so…

Anyway, looks like the technology has a long way to go, I ended up just writing the report myself.  Old fashioned style. I’ll email it to you, shall I?

I hope you like it. I really made an effort… worked all night on it… I’ve got my internship review coming up, after all Mr Folkes.  I’d love to work for this company… get a foot in the door of such a promising new business. I hope you’re going to make a submission to the review board.

I actually took the liberty of drafting one for you, using the GPT thing again. Funny: speaking of foot in the door, it’s mostly about feet, actually. My feet. And about you. Anyway, I don’t think it would be very suitable, but it might give you some ideas, if you’d like a copy?

Savage beauties

She thinks that there are always other credit cards.  And she’s right, of course, there are. They don’t all belong to the same male but that doesn’t matter.
Many married couples never discuss money, but in the best-run marriages it’s discussed once and that’s that.
Kafka-trapping, eh?  Curiously enough, George has always fantasised about this. I hope he enjoys the real thing just as much.
If she dreads it that much, why not just decide not to make him wear the No. 5s?  Women are hard to understand sometimes.
Almost all the guys she fucks are insensitive brutes, so she needs someone in her life who cares about her feelings.  Let’s hope he learns a bit of empathy.

As the world turns

turning points!  That’s all.

NB: I have just realised that the default comments policy on the blog required a name and email. I have switched this off, so you can comment as anonymously as you like (but please give yourself a name, at least in the body of the comment, so you’re not all just ‘Anonymous’. Unless of course, your name is actually ‘Anonymous’ which would be a cruel burden to bear).

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