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.
Beach-slapped
Servitor will soon be going on holiday – no more hours of toil chained up in a laundry room in a dark cellar in a town house for me, for the next couple of weeks I’ll be doing my hours of unpaid labour chained up in the laundry room of a luxury holiday villa! As is now traditional, there will be daily posts with captioned images without context, comment, replies to comments or point. But to warm things up, today’s post is holiday-themed.
That’s one of the nice things about being on holiday: the way you sometimes have to find a way without the things you’re used to. Like… one time I booked this villa that didn’t have wi-fi or any kind of Internet access, so my SO and her friends just spent the time beating me savagely for my blunder, instead of going online.
In general you don’t need any preparations different from visiting any other country, but do be aware that certain kinds of injuries are excluded from the health insurance.
Speech rules and frequent use of the gag do tend to result in one’s conversational skills atrophying. But you won’t hear me complain.
In case you’re maybe thinking this is an unfair over-reaction, I should explain that it’s not just Paul’s lacklustre oral sex performance the previous night that’s led them to feed him alive to the snakes. Or the wild dogs, whatever. No: it’s been a few things over the last few days. Not enough gin in Lydia’s cocktail, too much in Suzie’s… that almost-sulky look when instructed to move all of the deckchairs a little to the left, when he had just finished moving them a little to the right… that kind of thing. Plus, his ears stick out a bit making him look funny, as Yvonne rightly pointed out. So really, being torn apart by wild dogs (or having whatever snakes do, done to him) is what he deserves. Anyway, just relax and do the best job you can tonight, OK?
My apologies to any ‘readers’ who’ll have to declare they looked at a forbidden image and face the consequences. if you look really closely, you’ll find you cannot actually see any naughty bits. But then ‘looking really closely’ is forbidden by most sensible females too…
Some men complain once they’ve arrived about the brochure being misleading (quite apart from missing out the whole slavery thing, it does fail to reflect the full age profile of the resident females) but they usually realise the error of their ways quickly enough.
6 thoughts on “Beach-slapped”
Last image.
I was “fixed” sometime ago. I remember the “bad old days” of varios frustrations and things I’d rather forget
Now I’m just a helper to the ladies. I don’t even notice the bikinis. I’m neither a slave nor one of the ladies; just in between.
No thrills and no punishments for lust.
Bliss! Sounds like a zen-like existence, except for all the whipping and stuff like that, which this lifestyle generally entails. But there’s always some downside to everything, isn’t there?
Remember to pack your sun protection cream. We wouldn’t want your skin getting sore or, even worse, burned, now would we?
For what it’s worth, a “beach” theme was always going to be a risk for me, and still I looked…… As she who must be obeyed often points out, I never learn. Apparently it makes me endearing. Sometimes.
Don’t worry, Mr Mouse, I had very effective, Factor 50 sun-cream on, for the few occasions on which I was led out, blinking, into the light. It covered my entire exposed flesh, except for the bits spelling out ‘cum-slut’, obviously, which did get a bit red and sore (but no worse than a really savage whipping or a burn with a red-hot coat-hanger, so not too bad, relatively speaking).
Caption 1: Shit, now she wants to try this at home. I’ll double time it on my obedience. Don’t want to get beat anymore than I have to.
Caption 2: He obviously doesn’t plan on coming back if he isn’t going there with a lady. I mean who is to say the responsible female in question is going to oet him leave anyway? He needs permission to leave you see. And that’s what he isn’t thinking seriously about. He may never see his homeland again.
Last image.
I was “fixed” sometime ago. I remember the “bad old days” of varios frustrations and things I’d rather forget
Now I’m just a helper to the ladies. I don’t even notice the bikinis. I’m neither a slave nor one of the ladies; just in between.
No thrills and no punishments for lust.
Bliss! Sounds like a zen-like existence, except for all the whipping and stuff like that, which this lifestyle generally entails. But there’s always some downside to everything, isn’t there?
Best wishes
S
Have a wonderful holiday Servitor.
Remember to pack your sun protection cream. We wouldn’t want your skin getting sore or, even worse, burned, now would we?
For what it’s worth, a “beach” theme was always going to be a risk for me, and still I looked…… As she who must be obeyed often points out, I never learn. Apparently it makes me endearing. Sometimes.
Have fun.
Mr Mouse
Don’t worry, Mr Mouse, I had very effective, Factor 50 sun-cream on, for the few occasions on which I was led out, blinking, into the light. It covered my entire exposed flesh, except for the bits spelling out ‘cum-slut’, obviously, which did get a bit red and sore (but no worse than a really savage whipping or a burn with a red-hot coat-hanger, so not too bad, relatively speaking).
Best wishes
S
Caption 1: Shit, now she wants to try this at home. I’ll double time it on my obedience. Don’t want to get beat anymore than I have to.
Caption 2: He obviously doesn’t plan on coming back if he isn’t going there with a lady. I mean who is to say the responsible female in question is going to oet him leave anyway? He needs permission to leave you see. And that’s what he isn’t thinking seriously about. He may never see his homeland again.
Wherever she hangs her cane, that’s his home, Squaw.
Woman can do amazing things with just a few wire coathangers, you’ll see.
Best wishes
S