business – Contemplating the divine

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.

Those uncomfortable conversations

Try not to pity her boyfriend too much, abject slave to his desires though he is: he doesn’t know any better, poor soul.

Don’t worry: she’s not really going to change her name to Mrs Pencildick. As a matter of fact, her husband’s the one who’s going to be legally changing his surname. To hers, obviously, although she is considering making him change his *first* name officially to Pencildick, or some such, at the same time.

It’s the same algorithm that sends you all those dick enlargement emails. Oh… you thought they were just spam? No, they’re very carefully targetted. Most other guys don’t get them.

When setting up a session with a new domme I usually ask her to treat me with utter contempt and disdain and I have to say, my experience has been that they’re all startlingly good at it. Sometimes I don’t even ask and they still get it right… I guess experienced dommes develop a kind of sixth sense for what their clients are looking for.

He obviously survived to a ripe old age… imagine him keeping the book all those decades, turning the pages occasionally to reminisce over his days under Miss Rathbone’s loving tyranny, only for the book to be sold to a second-hand shop after his death. Still: looks like it’s found an appreciative home.

…and just a little bit of found femdom to finish (do hurry up and finish, won’t you? Your wife will be back soon and you don’t want her to find you like this). More divine Joy…. who has done this many, many times before and she totally, totally knows…

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope

So true. Martin Luther King said that and if I’m honest (I’m not, in general – see the disclaimer to the side of the blog, there), he was probably talking about something other than femdom chastity regimes. But you never know.

You did bring the Travel Scrabble, right?

This is the lovely Little Caprice, most of whose oeuvre is unsuitable for viewing by the omega-males who read this blog (and I had to crop the image above to make it suitable) so don’t go googling her, OK?

One of the great joys of teaching is helping the pupils come to realise that they can achieve anything they set their minds to, if they are determined enough.

Don’t worry about being late, I’m sure they’ll be very understanding. Just get in there and do what you came to do.

I read somewhere that one of the many Femsuprem parties now contending for power intends to require all locksmiths to register their businesses and to log all requests for replacement keys in a central database. Seems a bit draconian, but then so, I suppose, are the plans to send sexists to prison camps staffed by whip-wielding guardresses in tight-fitting leather uniforms. And no one’s complaining about that…. no one who matters, anyway.

Of course, if she *does* actually want you to suffer, that might be counter-productive, but I suppose it’s worth a go.

He found life a bit difficult, after the OWK closed down, I heard. But he wouldn’t change a thing, if he had it all to do it again.

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.

It’s important not to boil them for too long or you can lose the flavour.

It’s nice to have a change of scene but you know what it’s like with holidays… 24 hours after you get home it’s as if you never left.

Give me the real thing any day. I believe Ms Cassie Hunter is on the shortlist to star in the new one: *50 Shades: Black and Blue.*

Spankable moments

She will drink dairy milk at a pinch, but it saddens her to think of the cruety to animals it involves.

More and more businesses are setting up dedicated DS service units, because the improvement in male worker productivity is so evident. Skilled practitioners like Julie are therefore much in demand, but businesses can keep their dommes’ salaries to a manageable level by turning a blind eye to a bit of findomming senior male executives on the side.

This was much more practical than the later craze for ‘add ten lashes and pass the challenge on’ which quickly got out of hand.

She’s willing to listen, at least to the first two… maybe two and half sentences?

Poor thing. That’s the third boy being whipped as a result of her actions that she’s had to witness this term. She must feel awful.

The wonderful lady playing the schoolmistress here goes by the name Lady Tamara Kenworthy in the material that’s appropriate for the likes of us sub males to view (Samantha Alexandra when not, but you didn’t hear that from me). Tragically, she no longer does sessions with clients (if she ever did), as far as I can see, or I would be scurrying to her door as fast as my hands and knees could carry me. I can’t blame her, though – I wouldn’t want to meet me in person either. But it would be so nice to be blamed by her… for anything really. Sigh…

Sounds like a sensible way to resolve this. Just imagine… a similar dispute between two males could easily have ended in violence. It’s because women have more empathy.

Torturous logic

She’s right, of course. Quite early in my marriage, I realised that what I naively thought of as ‘too much pain’ was, when viewed in proper perspective, ‘not enough pain’. It’s funny how wrong men can be about such things.

Speaking of Orgasm Day – guess what? Thursday’s mine! Yes, every February 29th, regular as clockwork, I get to have an orgasm. Unless my behaviour has been particularly bad, obviously, or if she’s too busy. She suggested the date herself – I’d wanted some time in June, but apparently this is much better.

This is one of the tasks you’ll be judged on, so do it right.

Nothing wrong with enjoying your job, I say.

What if I’m not ready? Hmm? What do you suppose she’ll – AAH!

I hadn’t realised she owned a big dog… I guess that’s why she has that big cage in the garden.

It’s the song of a merrymaid, peerly proud

Who loved a lord and who laughed aloud
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum
Whose soul was sad and whose glance was glum
Who sipped no sup and who craved no crumb
As he sighed for the love of a la-dy.

I used to wonder how girls could spend so long washing their hair. Then I found out.

Air stewardesses often like to have a sub waiting for them on arrival. After a long flight, they really want someone else serving *them* drinks and food – and if there’ve been any rude, arrogant passengers on the flight it’s still more important to have access to someone on whom to let off a bit of steam.

There are also consequences for remaining silent when she’s asked something, as well as for lying. So it’s all covered, really.

I hope this jokey little caption doesn’t contribute to that hurtful ‘castrating lesbian’ stereotype. Actually, survey data show that lesbians are, if anything, slightly *less* enthusiastic about castrating males than are heterosexual women, although there’s only a few percentage points in it.

Ooh… I hate job interviews. Like, I went to one where the interviewer asked me how I’d react to being slapped across the face and she didn’t even let me finish my answer! I did get the job, as it happens, but frankly that turned out to be a mixed blessing.

Fans of the ‘strict governess’ style of femdom might be interested in skipping to exactly 49 minutes into this 1970s British movie (NB, Russian site if you worry about such things), to reach the section which is about Theresa Berkley, of whipping horse fame. The movie is mostly in that 1970s British sex comedy style (oo-err, Missus, gwarn show us yer knockers!) but this bit is, I think, done quite well as it features the slow scolding build-up and anticipation (a theme I tried to convey in one of my few serious pieces: Waiting). Weirdly enough, although most of the film is knockabout farce, towards the end it takes on the tone of a public information film and features the then living, famous and very serious dominatrix, Monique van Cleef, in a short bit starting at 1:15.45. The 1970s were odd. But then, so are we, aren’t we? Extra trivia: the narrator is Charles Gray, narrator of Rocky Horror (where was his neck?) as well as being the best Blofeld, and Mrs Berkley is Carmen Silvera, who later dominated René in Allo Allo.