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.
A poetry special! Well, I can’t let PP have all the glory. Plus, I expect some of you are masochists, so you should enjoy these. I’ve been told my poetry is great upon the ears… or something that sounded very like that, anyway.
Two wonderful dommes with whom Servitor has had the painful pleasure…
…and an extra one, which I wrote in a particularly worshipful mood.
… although actually that’s not true (like many things on this blog), because obviously in session you can get away with calling her ‘Mistress’. Which was just as well for me, as I’d always assumed it was some variant of ‘El-ee-ssa’. I was granted the extraordinary privilege of visiting Mistress Eleise three or four times about ten years ago and I never did realise I was saying her name wrong in my head until I heard her say it in a video, quite recently. Fortunately, I never committed the unforgiveable sin of mispronouncing her name out loud, to her very feet (oh, those feet…). Not that it got me out of the slappings (and the mocking… oh, that mocking!) I so thoroughly deserved.
A silly little thing (I know I am but what are you? Oh no, hang on…). Anyway, just a poem, not worth taking up a whole posting slot, so up it goes as an extra.
“I don’t know how you cope”
Said the gimp to the simp
“With her constant demands for more cash.
Don’t you long when you meet her, to kiss shoes to greet her
Or serve as a tray for her ash?”
“It’s my kink and that’s that.”
Said the simp to the gimp
“But your lifestyle is hardly ideal.
Caged or chained all alone, with no life of your own
Till you’re summoned to crawl at her heel.”
“I’m her pet and I’m proud!”
Said the gimp to the simp
And he showed off his monogrammed collar.
“You’re just moneyslave 9; when you’re typing online
All she sees is the sign of the dollar.”
“At least I can type”
Said the simp to the gimp
Showing fingers splayed out, with a grin.
“I can move my hands freely and stand on my feet – see?
My meals don’t come out of a tin.”
“Right!” – started the gimp
But his voice was soon stopped
By a ball gag, inserted at speed.
“Your mouth’s not to bicker, you boot and floor-licker!”
And the gimp was dragged off on a lead.
“Well that finished fast”
The simp chortled in glee
Then with shock he caught sight of his phone.
“Too slow to reply – that’s three times now, so bye!”
And he sat there, all sad and alone.
Don’t dawdle.
With grovelling apologies to anyone with even the slightest taste, it’s a special OWK poetry day! You see, I – no, come back! Really, it’s not that bad, and anyway at least there are pictures of –
Hello?
Anyone still here?
Oh well, just you and me, then. OWK poetry, anyway, all based on the kind of traditional British canon I learnt (but perhaps suprisingly given my interests did not actually have beaten into me) at school. More difficult than it looks, even done this badly, especially as there is essentially no one-word rhyme in English for ‘kingdom’, or for that matter ‘Owk’.
Just in case any of you are interested, puzzled or just entirely short of better things to do sitting there, as you are, in front of a computer with your trousers down around your ankles, the actual poems these are mangled from are, in order:
Some nursery rhymes to help you relax and go to sleep. Everything will be fine.
Oh, you didn’t realise that I wrote poetry?
(Oh yes – it is!).
Not – you’ll be relieved to hear – the full British panto experience rendered in femdom. I only go to see the principal boy strutting around in tights for the topical humour anyway. But there’s usually a fairy speaking in bad rhyming couplets and this is what we have.
I’m Tinkerbell, by magic bound
To grant three wishes, when I’m found
So wish away, don’t take your time
And I’ll reply, in magic rhyme!
You wish for wealth beyond compare?
Check on your app – the money’s there!
Twelve zeroes end your balance sum
Be sure to spend it wisely, chum!
Your second wish – more altruistic?
That’s my hope, if unrealistic.
The choice is yours, good human, make a
Wish for peace, don’t be a ‘taker’!
You want a bigger cock – that’s all?
Not peace on earth, nor food for all?
All right, I’ll grant what you’re proposing
One large penis: quite imposing.
Now your third wish, say it quickly
Tinkerbell is feeling sickly
Something selfish, I don’t doubt it
State your wish – and quick about it!
A woman sexy, always young?
Who’ll love and worship with her – eugh! – tongue?
Fear not, my magic’s pretty good!
A girl who’ll treat you as she should!
A woman conjured from afar
Who’ll love you just for what you are!
A selfish beast, a greedy fool
With cash galore and massive tool.
Now who could love a pig like that?
Of course! A findomme! Savage brat
She’ll drain your savings, keep you frantic
Lock away that cock gigantic!
Yes: a findomme, brutal, bitchy
Now my magic’s getting witchy!
Casting spells for evil wishers
Here’s your findomme – blonde and vicious!
Princess Spoilt – I’m Tinkerbell.
I brought you here and wish you well.
This human’s yours; do as you please
But make him suffer – on his knees.
He’s rich and well-endowed, I’d say
So what a shame I made you gay!
But when you’re bored with mere temptation
Feel free to move on to –
Hmm. What rhymes with temptation? I’m usually so good with rhymes. Well, my dear Princess Spoilt, I’ll leave you to fill in that last one, OK?
And so I’ll say goodbye, Princess
Although your lips, I’ll here confess
Are tempting, full and ruby red…
Oh fuck it, let’s just go to bed.
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| Of course, as Governess Harding herself likes to emphasise (and she really can be remarkably emphatic), the support she provides for married couples can’t replace the work the couples themselves need to do, to put her principles into practice in their day to day lives. But she can provide a solid foundation of terror, on which a lasting relationship can be built. |
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| Many teenage boys just think they can masturbate as often as they like and it doesn’t matter – but really, they’re just storing up problems for themselves, if they ever get into a properly-managed romantic relationship. |
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| If he finds it any consolation, the things they will be doing to him will indeed bring sexual pleasure to both of them at the same time. |
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| The number’s important, because obviously the ‘U’ will change to a ‘C’ at some point and any staff member can access the records and alter the ‘R’ to an ‘E’ should she feel it appropriate to do so. |
I use names, though, including the awesome and glorious name Eleise de Lacy.* It’s an honour to do so.
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| Original here. I’ve heard that Doktor Soos is considered politically incorrect these days. I hope this goes some way to redressing the balance. This too. |
* Even though I am not quite sure how to pronounce it. Eleeza or El-eye-ssa?
