Author: Servitor

Women of consequence

You often hear it said that women don’t really care about cock size and that’s certainly been my experience. Most women I’ve dated have made clear to me that the size of my cock is of no interest or practical significance whatever, as far as they are concerned.
In the modern world, men have to learn to be supportive if they want to remain useful.
Oh, you can stick with being Number 13. You’re already among the luckiest men alive, to be one of her paypigs, so I don’t think you need to worry about anything bad happening.
Men don’t really do irony. Screaming and begging for mercy, that’s what they do.

Tamara Kenworthy there… oh, Tamara Kenworthy.

Who is also the lovely Samantha Alexander, here being delightful and non-dominational in a video introduced by (formerly Strict Miss) Zoe Page. So regrettably vanilla, although so captivating in appearance and voice and the line “We’re not in Chesterfield any more” gets extra points for Britishness. Does anyone know if the other lady, Charlotte Elizabeth, is also a domme? She looks kinda dommey.

Now he has to endure that agonising pause while he awaits her reply. She’s really good at agonising pauses.
How could you not, when she smiles so sweetly?

Pervertiveness training

See? There may be things Sven’s better at doing than you are (her, for instance) but can he do a wiggle-waggle bunny-dance? With all the actions? I think not. That big swinging dick of his would probably knock over a coffee table or something, I’m sure it would be an utter embarassment anyway.
In any event, she didn’t specify which hour of shock collar play she meant… it might be an hour later today, or even in a few months’ time. Women aren’t as literal-minded and linear in their thinking about these things. Anyway, whatever she ends up doing, she is determined it’s going to be mutually agreed with his explicit – enthusiastic, even – consent, so that’s all right.
Remember, though, when she clicks her fingers that other way, it doesn’t mean that. You’ll get the hang of it eventually.
They’re actually missing out: their friend Kayla has been paid for years to come along to these sessions and never does.
AI has a long way to go. It still tends to think human rights apply to males – and equally annoyingly, it still gets the number of fingers wrong way too often.
Her spankee wouldn’t be demeaned either (de-manned, maybe, but that’s different). It would be an honour.

Relentlessly romantic

And it makes her life easier too – she can focus her disciplinary efforts on gratifying her own sexual desires, instead of constantly having to make you scream for mercy over simple household tasks inadequately carried out.
You don’t want to make it her problem, believe me. She employs very effective problem-solving techniques.
Well she could look a bit more interested! I mean, here you are, ready to scream your guts out as you thrash around in agony for everyone else’s pleasure…
I can date to the very day – almost to the very stroke – the moment I reached the same realisation, in my own blissfully happy marriage.
She’ll get the hang of it. You can’t make an omelette without breaking a few kitchen slaves, am I right?
Actually, she’s unfairly disparaging* AFM’s technology section here. Just in the last few issues they’ve reviewed all the latest electronic air fresheners – focusing on how easy it is to change the scent they disperse – they’ve had some fascinating pieces on the microfungus ecologies that thrive and provide such rich aromas from even the cleanest armpits and they have tested out all of the latest AI models with a carefully standardised prompt crafted to induce them to describe a particular activity (can’t remember what it was) in as much detail as possible. Plus reviews of shaving technologies obviously.

*But then, Ms Palvin is very welcome to disparage me unfairly as hard and as often as she wants. I live for the hope that one day she will.

If you don’t like what I’m sayin’ then won’t you slap my face?

Because I’m bad. And because I’ve been bad.

And she’s his everything, so that’s worked out quite well.
Yeah. I mainly look at pervy pictures of women on the Internet for the articles anyway.
Actually, almost anything causes impotence, for a male in a relationship with a sufficiently determined woman. The trick is finding something that temporarily removes it.
Oooh ohh – look at me, I was castrated! Like anyone cares, loser.
Just as well.. her mother’s only topic of conversation seems to be how you don’t deserve her daughter, while when his own ball-gag’s not in, her father only talks about how perfect and wonderful his wife is and how lucky he is to be under her guidance. Family, eh? I’d buckle the ball-gag on myself.
Obviously their fetish play gear isn’t all entirely unsuitable for the more serious purposes they have in mind. Some of the whips are painful enough for real use and you can always stamp on fingers or other bits with a good solid pair of boots. They do also wear latex, although mostly in the form of heavy, long aprons for when things get messy, not the skimpy little numbers so beautifully on display here.

Deliberate acts of obedience

OK, that’s good. Because I imagine you’ve been thinking about it quite a lot too, right?
The three of them discovered they share a common interest.
It’s cleaner than it was… no squashed beetles for a start.
Men often feel uncomfortable dressed in female clothing. She just wants to make sure, that’s all.
According to my SO, it’s a mistake in BDSM to draw a distinction between sexy and painful punishment. Some punishments just have more of both, that’s all – and those are the best, of course, I can’t say she’s wrong about that.
Nothing like being desperately uncomfortable to keep yourself in the moment.

All for her

Women are more sensitive to other people’s pain than are men. It’s an empathy thing.
Nothing quite so off-putting in a shining session as catching sight of your own face. Bleagh!
There are many rules of client meetings but ‘she’s always right’ covers most of them.
Doesn’t seem fair, really, when my own ‘secret sauce’ is all bottled up.
Don’t worry: Mistress Elizabeth offered to repay the time. Let’s see… two minutes and her time’s worth… what, a million times yours? So that’s… let’s see… using all my fingers… carry the one… 3.8 years hard labour. Oh, might as well round it up to four. Let’s hope she’s a kind mistress.
To be fair, no Mistress I’ve ever visited has ever called me by my real name.
Verified by MonsterInsights