The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting

But some males just won’t subdue that easily, so these ladies did whatever had to be done. Fighting to liberate the world for a utopian vision of a true slave-owning democracy, these heroines understood that only through the extensive application of extreme violence could peace finally reign. More tales from when the war between the sexes finally went hot: World War M.

Inattention seeking

Her book’s much more interesting than you, after all… although now I come to think of it, almost everything is, isn’t it? No, you can just nod quietly: permission to speak is still rescinded.
She offers a very specialised service. Well, I say ‘offers’ – she doesn’t actually give subs the opportunity to refuse.
You probably won’t have many things to talk about anyway, once he realises she doesn’t mind you sucking him off.

You might be surprised they were able when drunk to remember it all to tell the registry people, but of course they could just read it off the tattoo.
Hard at work.
Don’t worry: Madame Sarka will realise immediately what really happened and will know it wasn’t his fault. She won’t care, obviously, but she will know and that should be some comfort at least as she’s beating the crap out of him and screaming abuse at him in Czech.

Unsafe spaces

If you want to experience the thrill of taking risks in public, try disobeying her.
It’s their civic duty, unpleasant though it might be.
Ah… the sadistic new lesbian girlfriend. Always a tricky transition in any sub-male’s life.
Mistresses Hannah and Sarah are unavailable too… odd, that.
The whole N*z* girl thing is actually something of a declining fetish. I understand in America, liberal subs are increasingly requesting dommes to wear red MAGA caps, while conservatives want schoolmarmy types who will force them to state their pronouns. Maybe there’s hope yet, to heal the rift.
Ooh, maybe you’ll get to have sex with her! Or at least, you’ll get to have someone having sex with you, quite near her.
I told my regular domme recently that I’d find it very exciting if she were to spend a romantic evening with another woman, culiminating in lesbian sex, while I was kept in chastity and ignored. Turns out she’d already been doing that for months, if not years! So that’s quite a lot of backdated session fees I owe her.

Hell hath no fury like a woman…

…does.

Men don’t really understand stuff like that, unless it’s slapped into them.
It’s a symbolic denial of heterosexuality, you see. And a rather practical and concrete physical one too, of course.
Actually, of course, lady Vikings didn’t usually go raiding. No: they waited at home, standing there tapping their feet and idly stroking their whips as their apologetic husbands returned with more meagre and unsatisfactory booty. There is a reason Vikings were so fierce, you know.
Of course, it doesn’t take the human element out completely – it can’t whip you, for instance.
Thank goodness for that. She must have been quite distraught.
Even if you’re sure it’s not yours (and let’s face it – in your condition, you can be reasonably confident it isn’t, right?) it’s polite to offer to lick it off.

Implacably romantic

Ah…. the holidays are over. So much laundry to do, so many ‘thank you for the fuck’ postcards to send to her holiday beaux. But it’s good to be back to abnormal.

“Even”? Ohh….
This (tiresomely) repeated theme I run here, of dommes getting bored during foot or shoe worship is thoroughly inaccurate, of course. One of my former dommes used to say she loved extended shoe worship play – it gave her a chance to catch up on all her social media.
Nothing like being fucked up the arse and in the mouth by a gang of big hairy men to cure that irrational fear of gay sex. At the very least, it can turn it into a rational fear and it might even be the start of something beautiful.
Whichever kind Mistress Mina wants, I would suggest. But he might be limited to marques that don’t involve a lot of plosive consonant sounds, given the ball-gag.
Nothing unusual about feeling a bit nervous before getting married. It’s like going to the dentist… as soon as you’re strapped to the chair and you realise the dentist is planning to use a manual drill on your teeth and she’s not giving you anaesthetic, it’s too late so you might as well just lie back and scream so she can enjoy it.
Not illegal. It’s OK to own a cattle prod, as long as you don’t use it on animals, because there are animal cruelty laws preventing that.

In the summertime (10)

Last day of the holidays! I expect my So will be visiting the beach one last time, going back to that special restaurant and having one last all-night fivesome with whichever four local lads most took her fancy. Then back home to normality, and a devoted Servitor, waiting patiently – and quite hungrily – for the familiar tread of those heels on the steps down into the cellar.

I mean, obviously I’m not expecting that unchaining me will be the first thing she does when she arrives home. There’s so many things to sort out… and of course there’s the cat to collect from the cattery. But I’m sure it won’t be more than a day… perhaps two… before I am once again dragged blinking into the light and strapped over the whipping bench to catch up on a week and a half’s-worth of missed marital bliss. It’s nice to get away but there’s no place like home, you know?

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