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.
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.
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 MaĂ®tresse 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 MaĂ®tresse 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.
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.
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.
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.
They seem well-equipped.
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.
She had to do something to keep herself amused. She’d already done today’s Wordle, after all.She’s also his personal financial advisor – she’s recently encouraged him to move most of his ready cash into envelopes.
She’s lucky to have Sarah, otherwise she’d be a pushover for any chained-up male with a sob story.
Embarassingly, it was only at the top she realised she’d meant to throw something into the rubbish bin and had to lead you right down and then back up again, the silly forgetful thing.
It’s nice and quiet down there, hardly anyone ever visits. Don’t worry, though: there’s a food chute. Well… down there it’s a food chute. On the surface it’s a rubbish chute. Same difference.
Don’t worry, they always schedule some special ‘couple time’ when your wife has you just to herself.
… for the cameras and the girls (trigger warning: no femdom, big hair, old-fashioned music from when Servitor was young, if such a thing can be imagined).
Always a tricky situation, but she knew exactly how to handle it to prevent embarassment. Women are better at reading social situations like that. Now… what kind of wine goes with spunk?
I’d be their catwalk.
She’s considering a suggestion from some productivity consultants that could eliminate that particular problem. The jerking-off, I mean, not the periods. That would be weird.
She doesn’t have any questions for you, either. It’s that kind of relationship, where you take the other person just as they are. She’s violent and sadistic and you’re… well: restrained and vulnerable. What’s to discuss?
Katharine Hepburn said that. And this [edit] is a picture of Audrey Hepburn, so the picture, like the Hepburns, is unrelated. Thanks to Downlow, low down in the comments for pointing this out. I’ll get me coat…
I’d have to say yes please. Ma’am.
“Readers” with an interest in Hollywood actresses may want to check the blog this coming Sunday. Just saying…
Don’t worry, it’s never too late to fill in any gaps in your schooling. I mean, I went to a school that didn’t have corporal punishment but look at me now.
She’s good with pain. He’s not.
Like many women, she’s discovered she doesn’t need high heels to come across as assetive and commanding.
I’m not sure she’s taking this seriously enough. She ought to have realised already that you did tell them how you felt about it, repeatedly, throughout the nine hours. Not quietly, true, but they were definitely told.
Silly Raoul. I hope he doesn’t feel too embarassed about his mistake, watching her play while busting out all over the place. Maybe she can find some way of cheering him up, in the breaks between sets.
I read somewhere that the medical advice on stress has changed. It used to be seen as something for middle aged and older men to avoid, but apparently recent research has shown that repeated stress and anxiety can make men better at all sorts of useful things, that more than compensate for any loss of life expectancy.
If he’s worried about it dripping randomly, she can always bring the candle down closer for a more accurate aim.
I admire Sylvia’s idealism, but isn’t it about time we all just admitted that men are just too stupid for most modern jobs? I mean, nothing personal guys, but we all know it’s true, right? They’re even inventing artificial intelligence now, before the males of the species have managed the natural kind, so really I don’t see the point in trying to catch up. There are lots of things men are better at than women – mostly involving manual drudgery – as long as they’re firmly supervised, so isn’t that enough? Why just set yourself up to fail?
Always difficult, playing with amateurs. Oh well, how bad can it be?
He also consented to several amendments to that agreement, after a few days of marriage. Funny how there’s always a few things you didn’t think of, isn’t it?