Category: boots

Until it hurts

and beyond.

My SO’s not really into roleplay. She says she enjoys our heavy pain play sessions most when I’m being myself.
I once saw a lady buying some of those cruelty-free cosmetics which she then put into one of those fashionable manhide handbags. A bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say? Not that I’m judging her, of course.
A bit embarassing, having to wear a chastity belt over nothing. It felt like I’d got past that stage, you know?
Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the psychological aspects while you’re being flogged.
I’ve never asked. To be honest, I’ve never really been able to think of an emergency which would require me to have an orgasm.
It’s a caring profession. They care a lot.

Castigatrices

If it’s any consolation, it wouldn’t necessarily be about to go any better if you had left her with a choice.
Many ‘funky’ office redesigns just don’t consider the everyday needs of the users.I mean, how’s she supposed to receive oral sex, sitting on that thing, just to take one obvious example?
Try to guess what she’s thinking. Don’t worry: you can have as many goes as you like.
Good thing she’s leaving a note that he doesn’t like ball-busting. The OWK ladies always want to know about such things.
You know… now she comes to mention it…
There’s a thing some of them like to do with the boots, too.

Just the way she likes it

Be aware she might just push your limits a little, OK? Or she might just want to breeze straight past them to get into the fun zone as soon as possible… whatever.
You might wonder whether there is evidence that her method gets results. It does: the boys she thrashes are in pain for days and have a terror of her that lasts the rest of their lives… and that’s exactly the result she’s aiming at.
Don’t worry, you won’t need to break the fantasy by handing over cash to her. She’s come up with a clapping and counting game for you to chant your banking log-in details.
Works for me. Spend long enough in chastity and you develop an ‘everything fetish’ anyway.
It’s unwise to waste your breath on pleading, but don’t worry if you can’t help it: you won’t offend her.
You may not know much information now, but believe me: you’ll have learnt about a lot of new things by the time they’re – or you’re – finished.

The wrongness of men

She shouldn’t have to do all the work in this relationship. Or any, in fact.
Tricky situation. Torture and murder are, let’s face it, ethically questionable activities, at best. On the other hand, they really are very pretty feet. What to do?
Oh no, not again. And they needed a new umpire after Edie disputed that line-call, too.
I don’t think anyone has mentioned any limits – no one female, anyway – so I suppose it’s open house, so to speak.
I think of the time between 5 am and… oh, anything from about 10 onwards, I suppose, as my special time. No disturbances, nothing to do but chores. Bliss.
She could have just unhooked the leash, rather than taking the collar off. That’s a sign of trust in your releationship, you know. Cherish it.

Inattention seeking

Her book’s much more interesting than you, after all… although now I come to think of it, almost everything is, isn’t it? No, you can just nod quietly: permission to speak is still rescinded.
She offers a very specialised service. Well, I say ‘offers’ – she doesn’t actually give subs the opportunity to refuse.
You probably won’t have many things to talk about anyway, once he realises she doesn’t mind you sucking him off.

You might be surprised they were able when drunk to remember it all to tell the registry people, but of course they could just read it off the tattoo.
Hard at work.
Don’t worry: Madame Sarka will realise immediately what really happened and will know it wasn’t his fault. She won’t care, obviously, but she will know and that should be some comfort at least as she’s beating the crap out of him and screaming abuse at him in Czech.

Hell hath no fury like a woman…

…does.

Men don’t really understand stuff like that, unless it’s slapped into them.
It’s a symbolic denial of heterosexuality, you see. And a rather practical and concrete physical one too, of course.
Actually, of course, lady Vikings didn’t usually go raiding. No: they waited at home, standing there tapping their feet and idly stroking their whips as their apologetic husbands returned with more meagre and unsatisfactory booty. There is a reason Vikings were so fierce, you know.
Of course, it doesn’t take the human element out completely – it can’t whip you, for instance.
Thank goodness for that. She must have been quite distraught.
Even if you’re sure it’s not yours (and let’s face it – in your condition, you can be reasonably confident it isn’t, right?) it’s polite to offer to lick it off.

You made the rules and you could not see

…you made a life out of hurting me.

Males always have disgusting things in mind. It’s not their fault (but that’s no reason to let them off a beating for it) – they are disgusting.
Contrary to the stereotype about women’s sexual preferences, findommes tend to want to skip the foreplay of little teasing gifts and just get straight into deep penetration of their partners’ bank accounts.
She’s going to be hanging around in lingerie a lot from now on. It’s just her making sure, to show how she feels about you.
I was about to ask whether there’s anything worse than having a lovely pair of shoes when your chain’s just too short for your lips to reach them… but there are worse things, obviously. Many, many worse things – as my SO has been kind enough to teach me, over the years.
This could explain some of the apparently random and heartless decisions global companies have taken in recent years, actually. Maybe I’ll write something for the Harvard Business Review.
Must be nice for Kate and her boy, being ‘out’. I’ve had to read up about epilepsy, because that’s our cover story if anyone ever sees me writhing around on the floor gasping incoherently after saying the wrong thing to my SO (or looking like I might be about to). Still, I suppose that’s a small price to pay for living the fantasy in reality.

A surprising facility for pain

Essentially the title is purely descriptive: we are back (after waking up woozily, dangling upside down, swaying around sickeningly as the abduction van tackles the winding country lanes) in the Facility. It’s a woman-owned, woman-run business that provides an ideal country break. Women can relax here, while men can get away from the stresses and cares of their everday lives to experience stresses and cares that are so, so much worse, for as long as their sponsors decide to keep them there.

She walks in beauty, like the night

She’s right, of course (as women do tend to be in my experience). You can only feel frustrated while you retain hope.
Many rich man marrying younger second wives worry that they’ll be reckless with money, but in this case it does look as if he’s married someone capable and willing to exercise strict financial control.
Of course there’s nothing wrong with a sissy having opinions, as long as they are sensible opinions derived from someone else – someone without intellect-destroying Y-chromosomes.
The problem is, she’s a perfectionist, but really, why should she have to give up on the ideal of perfection? Looks to me like she’s determined to keep trying, despite these setbacks, which I find admirable.
And that’s a sin.
Typical selfish male behaviour on maggot’s part, there, not even managing to remain alive despite the two ladies having a clear use for him at least for the next hour or so. But as things turned out, the resulting photo-shoot went really well – in fact they resolved to use dead slaves more often, as they’re less annoying.

A classic from Cruella. And you can now download the originals, the stories in which are no less deliciously dismissive and brutal than my caption. Wonderful stuff.