alpha females – Page 3 – Contemplating the divine

Where no woman has gone before

Boldly going to post another sci-fi special today.

Wicked, flagitious, tyrannical acts

If you’re worried about whether you’ll be able to please her sexually – don’t be. You have plenty of pain receptors and a full set of vocal chords, and that’s all you’ll need.

Obviously, I visit sex workers, although I have to confess I’ve never really understood why the ladies I visit call themselves by that title.

Looks to me like they’re considering him quite seriously already. I think he’s got a good chance of getting through to the next stage: in-depth assessment.

She’s just looking for the right man. I’m sure when she does find him, she’ll keep him.

I expect he’ll be taking those opportunities; it would be so ungrateful not to.

Spare the rod and spoil the marriage

Don’t worry: these ladies won’t.

Some wives are actually quite liberal in extending ‘permission to ask’ – one of my SO’s friends lets her boys beg whenever they like, says she rather enjoys it.

Especially when you’re wearing the pink one.

Of course, if you don’t enjoy it, you can always just wait until she orders you to argue or complain, then you can tell her all about how you feel.

For non-British readers; if a domme ever accuses you of ‘taking the piss’, she’s not referring to your impressive swallowing technique during toilet-play, she’s probably quite cross with you (‘pissed-off’ even).

If she holds her hand in the right place, they won’t see the leash, either.

One of my SO’s former girlfriends was an ears, nose and throat specialist. It was quite a relief when I discovered she specialised in removing tonsils, not ‘tonsils’.

… and as an extra, here’s a sweet little femdom video if you like that sort of thing.

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.

Benevolent brutality

She’ll work around it. A relationship is founded on how the partners feel about one another; things like whips and canes and tawses are just the physical expressions of that.

He’s not actually naturally balding; she just prefers him that way as she says it tickles less when she’s watching TV.

Wow – sounds like you might have an important assignment on your very first day!

He doesn’t need to check his privilege because she’s checking it thoroughly on his behalf.

Classic Cruella, of course, featuring the stunning Lady Sonia and the lovely Lynda Leigh. And some bloke, probably with an ugly moustache, but who cares, eh?

You might as well blame yourself. After all, *she*‘s going to be blaming you and it’s not as if anyone else cares.

I think we know what’ll happen to Rob if he doesn’t make more of an effort. Rob doesn’t, but he’s more brawn than brains.

Slavish loyalty

…it’s the best sort.

While they’re gone, the areas on your back they left free of suncream should get nicely sunburnt, so you can pass the time trying to work out what word they wrote.

Kevin’s going to stand up and be a man. For once.

I admire high-powered career women like her. She manages to hold time a full time job and still take care of inspecting all the housework, as well as putting a lot of time and effort into the relationship itself.

Fortunately, shrieking hysterically when subjected to even moderate CP is something I’m really good at, as every domme I have ever sessioned with can attest.

You’re special, never forget that. She won’t.

A long time in politics

A week is a long time in politics, they say, which makes it a lot like predicament bondage.

I should apologise for any medical problems induced by the high prevalance of heart-stopping beauty in this post. But I won’t, because anyone collapsing in front of his screen, trousers around his ankles, probably deserved it, nasty little pervert.

These days with such a fragmented media landscape it’s very hard to determine what’s true and what isn’t. Quick pro-tip: if it’s on this blog, it probably isn’t. So don’t worry about that female supremacist conspiracy, OK? Just a femdomination sex fantasy thing, nothing to see.

There were several defining moments of her campaign, many of which went viral and some of which became among the highest-ever viewed clips on femdom porn sites, oddly enough. Still, all publicity is good publicity, right? It’s like spanking, in that respect.

Yada yada slavery, yada yada shock collars. That’s the tired old politics… time to move on, surely? And if those men’s rights activists can’t understand that for themselves maybe they just need a little help to see the bigger picture? Shouldn’t the government step in – or stride, in high-heeled boots – to provide that? Hey – I’m just asking questions here.

The First Gentleman should be a role model for all boys, so it’s important to check his behaviour whenever he falls short of that high standard – and her higher ones. So, really, it’s her duty. The interns… OK, that’s just a stress relief thing.

She won’t say branding’s painless because it isn’t. See how refreshing it is when political leaders don’t, like, lie all the time?

Thanks be to women

Aw… he’s going to be all bashful and get confused as he tries to stutter out his question, now. But she won’t mind: she’s nice.

My own employer set up a taskforce to evaluate some external dominatrix service providers – we trialled five of them, which was a bit exhausting for me, as the only male on the team. In the end, though, the choice was easy as the cheapest option surprisingly also turned out to be the most painful. It pays to shop around.

So, ermmm, what are you both up to these days? Apart from this, obviously.

A pair of wonderful French dominatrices there: on the right, the talented and beautiful Maîtresse Blanche who has had the dubioius pleasure of inserting various medical things into Servitor and peeing on me, while on the left I believe is la talentueuse et belle Maîtresse Euryale, who probably has much better facilities into which to relieve herself… but I hope some day may yet find a stinking load of raw, untreated Servitor piled up on her doorstep needing humane disposal.