Servitor – Page 141 – Contemplating the divine

Outnumbered

Mens lib is fine in theory, but someone has to lick out the ashtrays, don’t they? So I don’t see how it could ever work in practice.

They don’t aprove of modern fads. Actually, there are lots of things they don’t approve of. As you’ll discover.

Everyone makes little mistakes when they start out. No real harm done.

The parts of the dommes in this little tale were played by two dommes, by an odd coincidence. The extraordinarily wonderful (as I can personally attest) Lady Sophia Black and Ms Morigan Hel, whom I briefly met once before Ms Sophia dragged me away, and is probably equally but differently extraordinarily wonderful.

Don’t worry – he’s not a real schoolboy. And that’s not really his mother. And the person on the left who seems to be an attractive young blonde lady in a doctor’s coat is actually a 57 year-old computer scientist from Gujurat called Deepak. Femdom porn… it’s all fake, really, isn’t it?

Time to explain to them that you’re not into that, I suggest.

A little bit of politics there…

[NB: Brexit-related post not of any interest to readers who is not Bri-ish and of little enough to those who are]

As they say, if voting changed anything, they really shouldn’t let men do it. But it can, and sadly they do, so with some reluctance Servitor posted off his vote to remain in the European Union (which includes the Czech Republic, remember), wistfully hoping for the day when only the superior gender has such a privilege.

Of course, I wouldn’t dream of seeking to advise or influence any female readers of this blog in their important political deliberations. But for the rest of you, burdened with Y-chromosomes… never mind the economics, never mind the discussions about sovereignty vs effective weight in the politics of the world, fundamentally all you need to know about the Brexit referendum is this:

Ooh la la.

Yup. Mistress Eleise lives in Paris. So the fewer border controls the better. Aaand, it’s really none of my business, I don’t know the nationality of all of these ladies for definite, but let me just say, that there are certain advantages in allowing citizens of other EU countries to live and work in Britain.

Nuff said, I’d say.

I was going to try to do the usual five captions, themed
around Brexit, but I got too bored and depressed and they were all kind of samey, so here’s as far as I
got. Normal service resumes on Friday.

How I loved you, How I cried…..

And I still do both, I’m very glad to say.

Of course, you can still try negotiating your way out of this if you ask nicely. I mean, it only took her an hour to get all that ready. She won’t mind.

The lovely Mistress Mina Thorne, of course. You knew that already, right? Course you did – you read Femdom Resource.

And then it’ll be the turn of the next one, and so on for the rest of the evening.

Sounds like she’s looking after him very well.

Men rarely think these things through. Some of us are lucky enough to have plenty of time to think things through, free from any distractions except the sight of the corner of the room and the feeling of a sore bottom.

It’s not the crime; it’s the cover-up. And it’s not the paddle or the strap; it’s the cane.

Her husband; her rules

It’s only fair, right?

She can certainly make you less happy in the days and years to come, should she choose to do so. Thoroughly miserable, in fact. So in that sense, today is indeed the high point.

Sounds exciting! Some sort of wet ‘n’ messy play, I imagine?

Yes, you really must stay to comfort her. It can’t have been easy for her, losing three husbands in a row like that.

I don’t usually link to tumblrs but I will give a shout-out to Strict Widow, as I love the concept and I’m using it quite a lot for material!

Ah – a caption turning on the finer points of English grammar. One for the Editor Domme, there.

While we’re on the subject of tumblrs… Just remember you’re apostrophe’s if you comment on her site, for gods sake, OK?

Dominant males quite often feature in this blog, actually. You can’t always tell the difference between them and the subs, but believe me, when I post a picture of some male under female control, with hands secured and cock firmly locked away or absent, it’s often a male dom formerly known as “Master Roger” or some such.

…and here‘s an extra one, without words.

Changing shifts

Oh hi George, that you?

Hmm? No, I wouldn’t say she’s in a particularly bad mood
today. This is my own fault really –
stacked the towels in the wrong order again.
You know how it is. Eighty minutes, eight strokes, then another eighty
minutes. Could be worse. I had quite a light shift, actually. A few with the strap and a couple of sesssions of kneeling punishment. Quite a relief after last time, I can tell you.

Nothing much to report.
There’s some of her friend Julie’s laundry in, to be ready for
5.30. And she wanted me to do the
kitchen, so the bathroom’s still to do, OK?

Oh by the way, we’re a bit short on washing up liquid, so
try and go easy on it, will you? My
shift starts at 6am tomorrow, so I won’t have a chance to buy any more until
Thursday. Wouldn’t want to earn any more
demerit points, not this close to the end of the month. And you know how she is about the washing up, especially when she’s having a party.

Oh – hasn’t she said? Yes, this Saturday. I expect she’ll tell you today, because we’re both going to be on duty, I think. Trevor’s going to be setting up, then you and
I are doing maid service and clean up. House inspection 9am Sunday, then we get the rest of the day off if it’s all satisfactory. With two of us working overnight that should be all right. It’s the Saturday evening I’m worried about, to tell the truth. I
heard her mention that that vicious little cow Marianne’s going to be
there. You remember? The one who made us all dance with those
weights attached at New Year. So we
might be in for rather a rough time, I’m afraid. Glad it’s not just going to be
me.

Ermm… listen, old boy.
You couldn’t do me a favour and straighten my stocking tops could
you? You’d be saving me four strokes at
least. No need for her to know, eh?

Oh come on, George.
I’d do the same for you, you know I would.

OK, well I understand.
You’re probably right. She does always seem to find these things out,
doesn’t she? We’ll just forget I said anything.

You, ermm… you won’t tell her I asked you, will you? I mean, I know we’re supposed to tell her about any rule infractions, but… you know. Honour among maids and all that. Hmm?

George?

George, are you still there?

What women like

So many books about that topic, discussions on the Internet…

But I’ve learnt a trick about pleasing women which I find works almost every time. The secret is not to put your own sexual needs first, you see. Many women are quite pleasantly surprised if you don’t insist on sex. Just hand over the money in an envelope and leave.

After all, you can always masturbate later, jerking off to pictures on the Internet, alone in your squalid little room. While she gets on with her life.

Frequent flyers get extra benefits, including staying behind for an hour after landing to clean the whole aircraft.

Her birthday’s in eleven days time. She doesn’t like too much fat on her boys, you see, but you should be nice and thin for her by then.

You can actually fry them up still attached for maximum freshness, but many people think that’s going a bit too far.

Looks like someone hasn’t been following Servitor’s rules for making women happy! Remember – always leave straight after paying. Or if you’ve booked with a credit card through an escort service, just tell them it’s OK if she doesn’t turn up. Trust me: she’ll love it.

Plenty more where that came from, so come on – get it down.

PS – as some of you might know, Blogger provides stats on where the traffic is coming from*. Mostly Femdom Resource, Google and my Tumblr site, but it also tells you which searches on Google led people here. Now, normally these are fairly obvious things involving femdom and bootlicking and suchlike wholesome matters**, but this morning we had: “kellogg’s frosted mini wheats original, 24 ounce box” and “Brita water filter replacement cartridge”.

Woah. There are some things that are just too kinky even for me. Take your weird grocery obsessions elsewhere, OK guys? Let’s try to keep it clean here.

* no, stop worrying, it doesn’t tell me anything about who you are. Except you, Tom from the US. Oh – and you too, Mr Collins from the UK.

** and “contemplating the devine” with depressing frequency. Use a dictionary if you‘re not sure, you stupid males! That’s not even a word, OK?

Warning

There’s now conclusive evidence of the harmful effects of looking at porn. These can vary from simple cases of sore knees and light bruising across the face to severe lacerations of the buttocks and intense pain in the genital region. You have been warned…

…but I expect you’re too stupid to do anything about it. I certainly am. On with the show.

She’s going to be brave for both of you, OK?

Why would I want a new pair?

Hmmm.. but is he really sorry?

His n hers.

Convenient too. There’s always a queue for the ladies’ loo at a wedding.

Just a little prick…

… oh, I’m not even going to go there. It’s a very old joke and not very funny.

Let’s have some brand new and not very funny captions instead.

Dommes don’t care about these things, but we subs do. The taste is quite different, for one thing.

It’s good to experiment a bit.

I’m one of her regular clients. First Tuesday of every month, 9.35 to 9.38. It gives meaning to my otherwise pointless existence.

Men do seem to be making some pretty strange democratic choices just now, you’ve got to admit.

um…

I was so upset that I cried

… all the way to the chip shop

(trigger warning: video is unrelated to the subject matter of this blog, although I suppose those with a really really strong cuckoldry and insult fetish might just about find something in it).

And she’ll hold on to that very special key, just to make specially sure.

It’s true, actually. There’s nothing that drives away mild discomfort quite like agony.

A bit foolish, really. She could easily claim pro-domme rates for acting as his slavemistress and then where would he be?

I eventually got round to asking my wife whether my performance in bed was OK or not. I was a bit worried, but actually she was very nice about it. Said it was so long ago she’d completely forgotten after all these years and why would it matter to anyone anyway? I was so relieved.

Silly wasting money on a bus when it’s only eight miles anyway. Think how good you’d feel putting the bus fare into the fur coat fund instead. Every little helps.

4300 kPa

The pressure exerted by a woman walking in high heels. so it seems. That’s a lot of Pascals. 4.3 million Pascals, I suppose. Makes you think, eh? And that’s assuming she’s not actually jumping up and down.

I read that on the Physics Website, which (drawing I suspect on Cutnell, John D., & Kenneth W. Johnson. Physics. 4th ed. New York: Wiley, 1998. 338) explains it this way:

This is approximately 40 atmospheric pressures. Now you realize the full potential
of the high heel.

For comparison’s sake, would you rather your hand be pummeled by a herd of elephants
or a group of angry women wearing high heels?

Sorry, what was that?

Would you rather your hand be pummeled by a herd of elephants
or a group of angry women wearing high heels?

Mmmmm… sounds like you don’t read this blog very often, Mr Physics Website.

Anyway, it all seems very instructive. I won’t link to the website as I don’t think they’d particularly appreciate this source of traffic (yes, dear readers, that’s right: I am ashamed of you). On with what we do on this website, now.

It’s not actually the days wearing the collar that will hurt you, in any case. It’s all the things you said and did during those days when you weren’t wearing it.

Looks like you’re about to get a feel for Russian culture.

Interestingly, a recent survey found that many women with husbands in chastity actually start wearing sexy clothes more often than before. Women, eh? Always missing the point. Bless ’em.

Anyway, he’s got another ear. So it’s not like the time when she – oh, well,, that’s another story.

Kafkaesque, no?