Servitor – Page 139 – Contemplating the divine

And if she goes away, I’m like someone who’s left out in the rain.

Cos you can’t beat a bit of E.L.O.

Some days you just can’t seem to get up.

I wonder if they do ‘extras’?

Damn. She’s catching on.

OK.

Well, a halfsome anyway.

Love hurts

…in all sorts of unexpected ways. But today is the day for celebrating love, harking all the way back to St Valentine himself who found love while incarcerated behind the bars of a prison cell, before being tortured to death. He remains an inspiration to us all.

You can’t run away from love.

She’s working hard for this marriage. Maxim and Sven are probably going to be giving it their all too. So what about you?

Just once.

Love can also express itself through pain, terror, panic – especially when instruments of torture are involved. It’s just part of how it feels, when it’s real, you know?

I had a friend who wanted to give his SO the ultimate gift, and secretly commissioned a designer leather firm to sort it out. Sadly, there was a mix-up and he ended up as about a fifth of a matching armchair and sofa set that was sold to some billionaire in Qatar with more money than taste. But she would have been quite touched by the gesture, had she ever known about it.

Six of the best

A good caning never hurt anyone, right?

Oh, hang on…

I think I’m pretty strongly oriented towards serving Mistress Eleise already.

What to do… what to do.

Ermm… oh, you know. Nothing really. Just one of those things. Forget I said anything. Please?

You should stand up for your rights. When you’ve finished bending over for the cane, obviously.

I hope she doesn’t mind frantic tugging at the bonds, and pitiful pleading, mixed in with the screaming.

She’ll probably be able to empathise more with your pain, now. Probably

Masculinity is a treatable medical condition.

Look, I do understand the hypocrisy involved in my advancing political opinions, but can I just comment on this view going around that Trump’s election is in some way a consequence of ‘political correctness’?

Trump was elected merely because of a ridiculous quirk in the US electoral system, that might have made sense in the eighteenth century but has no relevance to the modern world: namely, that men are allowed to vote. The country basically voted 54% to 42% for Clinton, before all those male votes were taken into account and it’s absurd this should have been allowed to distort the result. Sure, it’s nice to let men feel they can take part, but to actually let them cast ballots unsupervised is just political correctness gone mad, and now we have to live with the consequences.

I mean, honestly, you wouldn’t let a man make decisions about the family finances, or how best to iron your blouse or what time he goes to bed, would you? So why on earth would you let him have a say in choosing the President?

Doesn’t make sense to me. But then, I am ‘chromosomally challenged‘* so what do I know?

(* and yes, I am using that politically correct phrase ironically. What’s wrong with just saying ‘a stupid boy‘ for goodness sake? When did we stop calling things what they are?)

Thank goodness things round here are still sane and matriarchal.

She seems to be controlling his masculinity problem nicely.

She loves her work. You will too.

I think she’s recognising that his behaviour has been causing pain in their marriage – but not quite enough pain.

I wonder how the consultant goes about measuring her?

Secondary sexual characteristics – they’re even more annoying than the primary ones, sometimes. Fortunately, a simple surgical procedure can deal with both at the same time.

Let’s do the time-warp again

Those of you who have been reading this blog from the very begining in 2011 ~~are very, very bad and perverted people who deserve to be forcibly~~ may well recall that one of the very first posts was of the front pages of some magazines that had fallen through a erm… worm hole time dimensional vortex thingummy and landed on my desk.

Oh yes, you do remember. Of course you do. Stop lying – has no one ever told you it’s very naughty to lie, boy? Hmm? Look – just go here if you’re one of those johnny-come-latelies who’ve only started reading this in the last five years, OK?

The title was a little odd. I think back then I was occasionally trolling the followers of a rather devout Christian who had a blog of the same name, so there were a lot of religiously titled posts. He’s now publishing religious blog posts in the form of piss-takes of femdom porn too, oddly enough, so it all seems entirely fair.

Anyway: three magazines had arrived from the far future… 2014*, 2017 and 2019. I must have missed my copy of Subbie Hubbie Monthly back in 2014, but I have already reserved my copy of Dominant Lady Quarterly (at the special male price of just £2500 per copy), so I am looking forward to April.

Anyway (again): it happened a second time! Would you believe it? Three magazines, no doubt from the faaaaar far distant future. These ones don’t actually have dates on them, oddly enough. So.. yeah, here they are.

* Well I didn’t know this blog was going to be going on so long, did I? I thought I’d have something better to do with my time by now. Oh well.

Women seem wicked when you’re unwanted

…and isn’t that great? Warning: safe for work video after the link.

But what if he never gets to like it? Hmm. Not sure she’s thought this one through.

Don’t even ask what the chicken mask is for. A magician never gives up her secrets.

Well, he wasn’t treated exactly like that, obviously. Dommes tend to keep their places heated quite well, for one thing, in my experience.

It’s actually much harder playing ‘guess the object that’s been shoved up the slave’s anus’ in a single-domme session. Because then you have to do the guessing and ‘hmmm… it’s definitely something that really hurts’ doesn’t narrow it down much.

Perhaps he should discuss it with his wife. Or perhaps she should, directly.

Repressed sexuality

It’s the best kind, as long as the right person is doing the repressing

I can’t remember – but it was ‘maggot’ very soon after, that’s for sure.

The magnificent Gigi Allens, of course. She’s been featured here before.

I’ve been working through feelings of self-loathing with my therapist. She says I’m getting quite good at them… but I know I could do a lot better if only I weren’t so lazy.

Cute, isn’t she? And the girl’s nice too. Ba-boom!

Oh well. No harm done. And probably quite a lot of good, really.

Everyone’s different. Some of us are more diferent than others, though.

A sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry.

Sometimes I link to 80s British music at the start of these posts, and it’s only just struck me that never once so far have I featured the greatest band to come out of the UK in the last – oh, fifty years at least. So here’s something from the Tap. Oh – and the content? Just for once, it is actually related to the general theme of this blog.

OK, so her kink is not your kink. But would it kill you to do something that turns her on for a change?

Democracy’s wonderful, as long as not too many men vote. This set-up looks OK.

She’ll want to be tight up there for the bridge shot. But stick around, as she’ll probably change down to something a bit looser to finish the break.

Hmm. You’ll appreciate that as a sub male I don’t at all approve of threats or allusions of CP towards women? But what I approve or otherwise is unimportant.

I’ve heard he’s been in some space movies too. But the only space movie I’ve ever enjoyed was Interstellar, so I wouldn’t know about that.

Abjective reality

He could try offering her all his money. Oh hang on – he did that already.

Gender sensitivity training. I’ve tried and I am very sensitive indeed to women’s concerns. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t benefit from further instruction, obviously.

Medical research has shown that male impotence can arise from many quite sepaarte causes. Failure to leave out the bins on rubbish day, addressing your wife in an impertinent manner – even ironing a blouse badly can lead to weeks or even months of being completely unable to sustain an erection.

My domme uses my real name in session these days, but only after she made me change it legally to “Maggotdick”.

The lady pictured here contemplating Colin’s immediate future is of course the Divine Mistress Heather. Have I ever mentioned that that she once – oh, did I? OK, then I won’t mention it again this time.

No… no problem at all. I’ll just get my coat…

Male order brides

Another themed post! Mainly so that I can deliver the excruciatingly weak pun in the title. But nonetheless… brides, we gottem. Or, more accurately, they gottus.