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.
Celebrating indifference
Try not to cry into the food as you’re preparing it; she’s trying to keep her salt intake down.
Oh, that’s kind of her.
As you can tell, she’s in a kind mood. Normally she’d make them fight, instead of the kangaroo-jumping thing.
Nothing like it to wake you up in the morning.
Some might say that all sexism offences are serious, but there needs to be some clemency and forgiveness in the system, so for the first ‘blonde joke’ offence, for example, the law mandates only a six-month term in a re-education camp with hard labour. The survival rate is pretty high, although obviously lower in facilities with more blonde guards.
Of course, the big number that brings everyone clapping to their feet is Time to cut you, my dear! towards the end of the second act.
4 thoughts on “Celebrating indifference”
Hello Servitor,
I wish to send you, my best regards for this ne… No, my best wishes to your SO and for you, well nothing as Servitor doesn’t need anything but more service, more submission, more humiliations and more pain for 2025 from your SO, who must have a real fondness for pets to keep you around her for so long…
PS- ‘the lyrics’ for your last pic, are just awesome!
I was chatting to my mother over coffee, the day after New Year.
”Max, was such a good boy over Christmas, wasn’t he?”
”He was, mum, he really was. It is the third year I hired a chef from a local restaurant to cook dinner for three days, along with three waitresses. It meant he could concentrate on tidying, the whole house, vacuuming, washing, ironing and looking after our family.
He was on hand for foot and pussy worship, it worked well, I think.”
”All the food was excellent, Marcos, the chef did so well. Did Max have any nice meals, or was it leftovers as usual?”
”Max had a turkey dinner in the kitchen, I think it had added ingredients, like a sprinkle of water from the loo, some spit from the twin girls and spat out sprouts, delicious.”
”I didn’t see him when we all settled for TV in the evening, did he go to bed early?”
”He is not allowed TV, mum, you know that. I sent him to bed
at 8.00 pm each evening, after he had tidied up and finished his late chores.”
”Late chores?”
”Yes, he took all the wrapping to the outside bin and made sure everyone’s bedroom was tidy and the beds were made. He was a good sissy, so sweet.”
”I liked his lilac dress with a silver headband, very sparkly.”
Max came in and took our used teacups and plates away as we chatted. He was in his usual black skirt ad white blouse combo, we ignored him as he fluttered around. As he went I noticed him look at my mothers’ s long, tanned bare legs, he does love my mum so much.
He saw that I noticed and I smiled at him.
We will speak of this when mother goes home tomorrow.
Happy New Year to you, dear Servitor, 2025 has got to be better than the awful year we have had.
Max and I married in 2000, so we have been together for 25 years, we have three daughters and a life of hard work and stress, albeit in a luxurious setting.
I don’t speak of our daughters, they are all doing well at school and the oldest has just started at University, studying, Gynarchy Economics and Household Management.
The youngest is starting her GCSE’s and the middle one is
starting her second year of A Levels in the UK.
The Winter Festival at school is so fun! Us girls get to wear casual clothes and lessons are short and there are no tests. For a whole week we play sports and can use teachers as foot slaves and general ‘go-fetch-ers”.
One teacher, Mr Fumble, tried to explain about how he was a free man and shouldn’t be expected to worship us.
Can you imagine? How dare he say something so hurtful. After we explained he is now the most eager to kiss and worship our feet or pussies or bottoms or armpits. He is a quick learner and he now accepts his place at our feet.
I like Mr Fumble, I really do! He always meets me at the school gate and takes my bags and follows me until the first lesson. He then goes to his class to teach, Gynarchy History 101. At break he finds me for instructions, I might want him to go to the library to get a book, or fetch me a coffee, or go in and tidy the toilets before I go in.
However, often I dismiss him because I don’t need him, except for carrying my bags and books to the next class. I don’t believe in having teachers just hanging around, they get in the way.
I go in to the canteen for my pasta dinner and see two male teachers sitting at the tables me and my friends usually use. I call on a canteen supervisor and tell her we need that table, we ask if she can move the men. She does this, and to my surprise one of the men comes over to apologise.
Hello Servitor,
I wish to send you, my best regards for this ne… No, my best wishes to your SO and for you, well nothing as Servitor doesn’t need anything but more service, more submission, more humiliations and more pain for 2025 from your SO, who must have a real fondness for pets to keep you around her for so long…
PS- ‘the lyrics’ for your last pic, are just awesome!
And there was I thinking she would probably prefer a long black one.
You never can tell.
Nonny
I was chatting to my mother over coffee, the day after New Year.
”Max, was such a good boy over Christmas, wasn’t he?”
”He was, mum, he really was. It is the third year I hired a chef from a local restaurant to cook dinner for three days, along with three waitresses. It meant he could concentrate on tidying, the whole house, vacuuming, washing, ironing and looking after our family.
He was on hand for foot and pussy worship, it worked well, I think.”
”All the food was excellent, Marcos, the chef did so well. Did Max have any nice meals, or was it leftovers as usual?”
”Max had a turkey dinner in the kitchen, I think it had added ingredients, like a sprinkle of water from the loo, some spit from the twin girls and spat out sprouts, delicious.”
”I didn’t see him when we all settled for TV in the evening, did he go to bed early?”
”He is not allowed TV, mum, you know that. I sent him to bed
at 8.00 pm each evening, after he had tidied up and finished his late chores.”
”Late chores?”
”Yes, he took all the wrapping to the outside bin and made sure everyone’s bedroom was tidy and the beds were made. He was a good sissy, so sweet.”
”I liked his lilac dress with a silver headband, very sparkly.”
Max came in and took our used teacups and plates away as we chatted. He was in his usual black skirt ad white blouse combo, we ignored him as he fluttered around. As he went I noticed him look at my mothers’ s long, tanned bare legs, he does love my mum so much.
He saw that I noticed and I smiled at him.
We will speak of this when mother goes home tomorrow.
Happy New Year to you, dear Servitor, 2025 has got to be better than the awful year we have had.
Max and I married in 2000, so we have been together for 25 years, we have three daughters and a life of hard work and stress, albeit in a luxurious setting.
I don’t speak of our daughters, they are all doing well at school and the oldest has just started at University, studying, Gynarchy Economics and Household Management.
The youngest is starting her GCSE’s and the middle one is
starting her second year of A Levels in the UK.
Zoe
High School
The Winter Festival at school is so fun! Us girls get to wear casual clothes and lessons are short and there are no tests. For a whole week we play sports and can use teachers as foot slaves and general ‘go-fetch-ers”.
One teacher, Mr Fumble, tried to explain about how he was a free man and shouldn’t be expected to worship us.
Can you imagine? How dare he say something so hurtful. After we explained he is now the most eager to kiss and worship our feet or pussies or bottoms or armpits. He is a quick learner and he now accepts his place at our feet.
I like Mr Fumble, I really do! He always meets me at the school gate and takes my bags and follows me until the first lesson. He then goes to his class to teach, Gynarchy History 101. At break he finds me for instructions, I might want him to go to the library to get a book, or fetch me a coffee, or go in and tidy the toilets before I go in.
However, often I dismiss him because I don’t need him, except for carrying my bags and books to the next class. I don’t believe in having teachers just hanging around, they get in the way.
I go in to the canteen for my pasta dinner and see two male teachers sitting at the tables me and my friends usually use. I call on a canteen supervisor and tell her we need that table, we ask if she can move the men. She does this, and to my surprise one of the men comes over to apologise.
How sweet is that?
Happy New Year from the High School.
Zoe