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.
Bottom marks for effort
Something I should get for that headline, I suspect. Oh well.
Early on in our marriage, I once tentatively suggested to my SO that she could maybe lend a hand with the housework occasionally. She didn’t react well, although to be fair I was given lighter househod tasks for a few days afterwards, as I recovered. We still commemorate the day every year, actually, like a kind of second anniversary. It’s in a few weeks’ time and I’m already starting to feel that pit of dread in my stomach.
For a one in ten chance it comes up surprisingly infrequently. Oh well, can’t argue with maths – or women.
One of the slaves does understand Czech, but at this point he was trembling too hard to explain to his colleagues what was in store for them.
As AI and other technological marvels come in, I suspect that oral skills are going to be more and more important for young men starting their careers in the business world.
It’s all very well to say I go to bed at 8.30, but frankly Steve can be quite noisy too – as can she – and there are some nights I don’t get a wink of sleep for hours.
6 thoughts on “Bottom marks for effort”
One of the guiding principles of my marriage is ‘certainty’. That means that if I tell my sissy slave husband, Max, that he will be punished for being a naughty boy, then that is what will happen. It is ‘certain’ because I said so.
On occasions he has begged for forgiveness and said he will never do what he did to annoy me, again. That is sweet, but it cannot take away the fact that I said he will be caned. The saying is what makes it ‘certain’.
Now, Max is generally a good boy. That doesn’t mean he will be let off a punishment, that would be wrong.
For the last 6 or 7 months I have been sleeping with Max. Sometimes we have been together and he has not been wearing his chastity cage. This has ensured my pleasure, but it has also put in Max’s mind that he is a ‘real’ man. That he could be my equal partner, even be my friend. This is not possible. This is impossible.
You cannot be equal if you are a sissy slave. This morning after my toilet he licked and cleaned my smelly ass. This he took as a privilege. It was a privilege. It was also an indicator of his status in the world. I must admit he is a sexy companion in bed, he is a good looking guy and I love him very much.
Max, my sissy husband, had been tidying in the garden. He is quite good at mowing and weeding, but he often pulls up perfectly good flowers. I was walking in the sunshine in a summer dress, I was relaxing after a hard week at work.
”Max, these are Plantain Lillies and it looks like you have been thinning them. Why have you done that, they are at their peak. Explain yourself?”
”Oh most high goddess, I thought they looked in need of separating. I am sorry if I am wrong.”
”Go into the house, I will ask my mom to look at them and see if you have ruined them. Make me a coffee, and bring some lemon drizzle cake,”
After Max served my refreshments I got a call from an old friend from uni, Agnes. We chatted for ages and I allowed Max to kiss and worship my stinky feet. Agnes has a new job as a Researcher at Warwick University. She is well qualified for the job and is so excited. When we finished we arranged to meet for a girly chat over coffee. I put my cell down and patted Max’s cheek.
”Good boy. you love my feet, don’t you? You pervert, you love kissing and licking and smelling stinky places. So sweet. Go and get on with some housework, honey. The place looks a mess.”
I met Agnes at a fashionable coffee shop near Zara and Liberty in town. She always looks good, but today she looked really happy in a white shirt with a blue denim mini skirt. Agnes was one of the most clever ones at Uni and so I am not surprised Warwick want her to do some further research into ‘the effects of ozone gases on the growth of trees and shrubs.’
”Hi Zoe, lovely to see you. How are you? Still married to that sissy, Max? Still working for megabucks as a Lawyer in the City? Tell me all, have you got a boyfriend?”
”Let me catch my breath, Agnes darling! Yes still married, yes still a Contracts Lawyer and no, I do not have a boyfriend.”
We talked about our travels and about our heritage as Gynarchy born girls. I told her about my upcoming trip to Bali and how me and Max are having a ‘Owner and Slave’ sex life. He still know his place, but twice a week we share a bed, and ‘no’ he doesn’t have his chastity taken off.
One of the current controversies in the Gynarchy is quarter votes for men. That would mean that the men’s votes would be counted and then divided by four or five. I think it is a very bad idea, and to my relief so does Agnes.
”Thin end of the wedge. Once you have conceded a vote, however it is counted, then men can say they have a ‘vote.” It will never get through, but it is talked about by the intellectuals and left wingers in our Parliament.”
Agnes told me she has a guy who she is going to ask to marry her, in the Gynarchy way of things. He is called Allan and is similar to Max in that he is very good looking, but a submissive sissy who asks her for permission to do anything.
Whilst we were chatting Allan rang Agnes and asked if he could watch a soap which ended after his bedtime. She told him to be in his pj’s at 8.00 pm as the show starts and go to bed as soon as it finishes at 9.00 pm.
Such a sweetie.
It was great to meet up with Agnes and hear all her girlie news.
Certainty is very important to males, Ms Zoe. Sounds like Max has his life all sorted out – by someone else, just as things should be. Everything in its proper place, that’s the main thing: especially husbands.
Best wishes and with many thanks for the comments.
Dear and most revered Mistress.
This humble slave, who has the incredible privilege of living with you and serving you, makes this abject apology for failing to be awake in time to iron the clothes you needed for work today. I am usually ready to carry out my duties when the alarm goes at 5 am so that I can make sure that Mistress, you are able to start your day calmly with a devoted slave to attend you. It is not an excuse, but I might hope that you admired the wooden floor which I waxed three times last night before going to bed after midnight.
Please Mistress accept this apology. The thought of a relentlessly brutal weekend has me quivering with apprehension and I beg you to be, if not lenient, at least merciful.
From your humble slave who just wishes to serve you and (amongst many other joyful duties) make sure that your clothes are immaculately ironed.
Yeah, I think the author of that humble message – while obviously his sentiments and priorities are right – might just want to check his attitude. Has a single non-selfish and above all practical reason for being lenient rather than brutal been given? And why should she care if it has? Are these male’s feelings and terror of pain more important than her ironing? Does his ‘joy’ enter into it one way or the other? Not for me to say, but I think I can anticipate her response.
One of the guiding principles of my marriage is ‘certainty’. That means that if I tell my sissy slave husband, Max, that he will be punished for being a naughty boy, then that is what will happen. It is ‘certain’ because I said so.
On occasions he has begged for forgiveness and said he will never do what he did to annoy me, again. That is sweet, but it cannot take away the fact that I said he will be caned. The saying is what makes it ‘certain’.
Now, Max is generally a good boy. That doesn’t mean he will be let off a punishment, that would be wrong.
For the last 6 or 7 months I have been sleeping with Max. Sometimes we have been together and he has not been wearing his chastity cage. This has ensured my pleasure, but it has also put in Max’s mind that he is a ‘real’ man. That he could be my equal partner, even be my friend. This is not possible. This is impossible.
You cannot be equal if you are a sissy slave. This morning after my toilet he licked and cleaned my smelly ass. This he took as a privilege. It was a privilege. It was also an indicator of his status in the world. I must admit he is a sexy companion in bed, he is a good looking guy and I love him very much.
Zoe
”Max, come here quickly, please.”
Max, my sissy husband, had been tidying in the garden. He is quite good at mowing and weeding, but he often pulls up perfectly good flowers. I was walking in the sunshine in a summer dress, I was relaxing after a hard week at work.
”Max, these are Plantain Lillies and it looks like you have been thinning them. Why have you done that, they are at their peak. Explain yourself?”
”Oh most high goddess, I thought they looked in need of separating. I am sorry if I am wrong.”
”Go into the house, I will ask my mom to look at them and see if you have ruined them. Make me a coffee, and bring some lemon drizzle cake,”
After Max served my refreshments I got a call from an old friend from uni, Agnes. We chatted for ages and I allowed Max to kiss and worship my stinky feet. Agnes has a new job as a Researcher at Warwick University. She is well qualified for the job and is so excited. When we finished we arranged to meet for a girly chat over coffee. I put my cell down and patted Max’s cheek.
”Good boy. you love my feet, don’t you? You pervert, you love kissing and licking and smelling stinky places. So sweet. Go and get on with some housework, honey. The place looks a mess.”
”Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
Zoe
I met Agnes at a fashionable coffee shop near Zara and Liberty in town. She always looks good, but today she looked really happy in a white shirt with a blue denim mini skirt. Agnes was one of the most clever ones at Uni and so I am not surprised Warwick want her to do some further research into ‘the effects of ozone gases on the growth of trees and shrubs.’
”Hi Zoe, lovely to see you. How are you? Still married to that sissy, Max? Still working for megabucks as a Lawyer in the City? Tell me all, have you got a boyfriend?”
”Let me catch my breath, Agnes darling! Yes still married, yes still a Contracts Lawyer and no, I do not have a boyfriend.”
We talked about our travels and about our heritage as Gynarchy born girls. I told her about my upcoming trip to Bali and how me and Max are having a ‘Owner and Slave’ sex life. He still know his place, but twice a week we share a bed, and ‘no’ he doesn’t have his chastity taken off.
One of the current controversies in the Gynarchy is quarter votes for men. That would mean that the men’s votes would be counted and then divided by four or five. I think it is a very bad idea, and to my relief so does Agnes.
”Thin end of the wedge. Once you have conceded a vote, however it is counted, then men can say they have a ‘vote.” It will never get through, but it is talked about by the intellectuals and left wingers in our Parliament.”
Agnes told me she has a guy who she is going to ask to marry her, in the Gynarchy way of things. He is called Allan and is similar to Max in that he is very good looking, but a submissive sissy who asks her for permission to do anything.
Whilst we were chatting Allan rang Agnes and asked if he could watch a soap which ended after his bedtime. She told him to be in his pj’s at 8.00 pm as the show starts and go to bed as soon as it finishes at 9.00 pm.
Such a sweetie.
It was great to meet up with Agnes and hear all her girlie news.
Zoe
Certainty is very important to males, Ms Zoe. Sounds like Max has his life all sorted out – by someone else, just as things should be. Everything in its proper place, that’s the main thing: especially husbands.
Best wishes and with many thanks for the comments.
S
Dear and most revered Mistress.
This humble slave, who has the incredible privilege of living with you and serving you, makes this abject apology for failing to be awake in time to iron the clothes you needed for work today. I am usually ready to carry out my duties when the alarm goes at 5 am so that I can make sure that Mistress, you are able to start your day calmly with a devoted slave to attend you. It is not an excuse, but I might hope that you admired the wooden floor which I waxed three times last night before going to bed after midnight.
Please Mistress accept this apology. The thought of a relentlessly brutal weekend has me quivering with apprehension and I beg you to be, if not lenient, at least merciful.
From your humble slave who just wishes to serve you and (amongst many other joyful duties) make sure that your clothes are immaculately ironed.
Yeah, I think the author of that humble message – while obviously his sentiments and priorities are right – might just want to check his attitude. Has a single non-selfish and above all practical reason for being lenient rather than brutal been given? And why should she care if it has? Are these male’s feelings and terror of pain more important than her ironing? Does his ‘joy’ enter into it one way or the other? Not for me to say, but I think I can anticipate her response.
But he could try it and see how it goes.
Many thanks for your comments, across the posts.
Best wishes
S