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.
Respect where it’s demanded
Update: something went badly wrong with this site, deleting every change between May 5th to now, including all comments during that time. I’m really sorry about that, especially losing all the ‘maths teacher’ comments. I’ll keep looking into it, but from what I can tell, the site did not backup last week but instead reverted to the previous backup, which was May 5th.If any WordPress experts have suggestions, I’d welcome them but I’ve tried all the options suggested by Googling the problem and the site really does seem to have fully lost a week – comments are even missing from the wp_comments database. Ouch. I can only apologise to my brilliant commenters who got deleted. Not my doing!
The nice thing about damage that’s reversible is she gets to do it again.
It was complicated getting the place built, but fortunately she owned the building developer and a friend of hers owned an architect. Oh, and they only discovered after the work was done that they had to apply for planning permission, but the planning officer was given a thorough tour of the facilities over a long weekend, and he was eager to approve after that. So it all got done in the end… although never quite to her satisfaction, it has to be said.
She likes to give them a sporting chance. No more than one chance, mind. And no more sporting than necessary.
She’s trying hard to make this work for both of you, but if it’s not working for her, that’s can’t happen, can it?
That’s the thing about OWK: everyone imagines it’s non stop brutality but it’s more stop-start-stop-start…
Well, if the price is fixed I suppose that’s what you have to pay. But you could try offering more?
6 thoughts on “Respect where it’s demanded”
So sorry Computers sometimes are almost as exasperating as males.
Rosita
I know – and hitting them repeatedly with leather or wooden objects doesn’t even help, although like with males, it might improve the wielder’s mood. Thank you for the sympathetic comment, Rosita!
Ah, thank you shorty, this blog likes males to be self-deprecating (and if they’re not, features plenty of women only too happy to deprecate them).
I’m in the same position. The reason no existing posts disappeared is that I write and schedule them a few weeks in advance, so they were ‘already there’ in a sense in the mysterious week that vanished. But three or four scheduled posts in the weeks to come disappeared, so I’m redoing and redrafting. Will it be better the second time? I doubt it: my SO always says she has to make me do something three or four times at least before I get it even close to right. But she perseveres, and so of course must I.
Somethings in life just disappear. I think you’ll probably find some of them in Sub-Basement 5. Along with a former CFO of a major insurance company, a handsome but naive backpacker from Auckland, a medical suite and an intriguing selection of male body parts in specimen jars.
If I disappear from the comments, you’ll know where to look!
Thank you, PP. Yes, some stuff goes missing – often because it’s just been stashed away somewhere and forgotten. I expect you’re right about Sub-Basement 5. Certainly, Serena and Alice have entire cell-blocks full of things they played with once then forgot all about, but I suppose there’s no real harm done.
People should look after their things better. If some guy wakes up one day with a strangely numb feeling between his legs, an empty syringe on the table beside him and the sound of happy girlish laughter disappearing away outside, is there anyone he can blame but himself if he discovers that something he values has gone missing?
Actually, as a note I’ve put on Friday’s post makes clear, this IT crash turns out to be one of the few things in the world that is not my fault. Fortunately there are still a great many things that are, so the need for elegant ladies to be paid to hit me with slappy things has not gone away.
So sorry Computers sometimes are almost as exasperating as males.
Rosita
I know – and hitting them repeatedly with leather or wooden objects doesn’t even help, although like with males, it might improve the wielder’s mood. Thank you for the sympathetic comment, Rosita!
Best wishes
S
Maybe those of us who lost comments can use this opportunity to post revised, cleverer, more humorous second drafts.
Ah, thank you shorty, this blog likes males to be self-deprecating (and if they’re not, features plenty of women only too happy to deprecate them).
I’m in the same position. The reason no existing posts disappeared is that I write and schedule them a few weeks in advance, so they were ‘already there’ in a sense in the mysterious week that vanished. But three or four scheduled posts in the weeks to come disappeared, so I’m redoing and redrafting. Will it be better the second time? I doubt it: my SO always says she has to make me do something three or four times at least before I get it even close to right. But she perseveres, and so of course must I.
Best wishes
S
Lost Comments
Somethings in life just disappear. I think you’ll probably find some of them in Sub-Basement 5. Along with a former CFO of a major insurance company, a handsome but naive backpacker from Auckland, a medical suite and an intriguing selection of male body parts in specimen jars.
If I disappear from the comments, you’ll know where to look!
PP
Thank you, PP. Yes, some stuff goes missing – often because it’s just been stashed away somewhere and forgotten. I expect you’re right about Sub-Basement 5. Certainly, Serena and Alice have entire cell-blocks full of things they played with once then forgot all about, but I suppose there’s no real harm done.
People should look after their things better. If some guy wakes up one day with a strangely numb feeling between his legs, an empty syringe on the table beside him and the sound of happy girlish laughter disappearing away outside, is there anyone he can blame but himself if he discovers that something he values has gone missing?
Actually, as a note I’ve put on Friday’s post makes clear, this IT crash turns out to be one of the few things in the world that is not my fault. Fortunately there are still a great many things that are, so the need for elegant ladies to be paid to hit me with slappy things has not gone away.
Best wishes
S