Category: business

Femdom Chat session

Oh hi, Mr Folkes. Yeah, I’ve drafted that report like you asked me.  Sorry it took so long. I’ve tried to make it read like you wrote it yourself, like you asked.

Actually… well, if you’re interested, I thought I’d try something a bit hi tech, since no one else seemed to want to give the intern work.  See, I realised there’s probably quite a lot of stuff out there that you’ve written, so one of these AI thingies ought to be able to write in your own style. Right? So I gave that ChatGPT thing a prompt about the report topic and ‘in the style of Mr Adrian Folkes’ and so on.  But it came up with the weirdest stuff!

Look: here’s the bit about the new marketing initiative in Scotland:

Douglas fidgeted nervously as he stood in regulation shorts and cap outside Mrs Harcastle’s oak door.  The quarterly sales figures were down by over 15%. Something would undoubtedly be said about that, he knew, and something would be done too.  His heart sank as he contemplated that prospect. It was going to be hard, there was no point in pretending otherwise.

“Come!” he heard, and he tried to control the butterflies in his stomach as he turned the door handle.  Mrs Hardcastle was standing there, the dreaded three-tailed tawse in one hand, his report in the other.

“So it seems middle-class ladies from Lothian in their fifties are particularly displeased with your performance, boy!” she sniffed, disapprovingly.  “That most certainly includes me and I do not propose to leave the matter unremedied.  Clearly, my previous efforts have not been sufficient and a more… vigorous approach is called for. Trousers down and bend over my desk.”

See what I mean?  It’s… kind of about the Scottish marketing initiative but… weird.

Here’s another about the new office in Prague:

Madame Loreen leaned back, allowing the heels of her boots to scrape the pallid back of the quaking slave kneeling before her.  The furniture in the new facility was barely adequate, she reflected, noting that the criss-crossed whip marks on her footstool’s buttocks suggested that her colleagues thought the same.  Furthermore, the artwork that was supposed to decorate the walls had not yet arrived, so the Ladies had tried to brighten the place up by dangling slaves from steel manacles across most of the walls. At least the electricity was working, she thought, watching the slave on the wall before her jerk frantically, mewing into his gag, as the electrodes clamped to his nipples delivered random jolts of electricity.

Clearly, the contractor had failed in the tasks assigned to him. A special meeting had been arranged, at which all the Ladies would have a chance to express their displeasure with him. Her fingers curled reflexively around the handle of her bullwhip as she thought about that.

Yeah.  It just produced something like that every time. Every item I tried: the GPT wrote up your monthly finance analysis as something about a princess and her ‘pay piggies’ for instance and it suggested replacing the contract cleaners with senior male managers dressed as little maids and spanking them until they met their targets. Oh, and the stuff about performance management was just brutal.

It’s weird isn’t it?  Do you suppose there must be another Adrian Folkes out there, writing stuff like that?  Only, I gave it your address and everything, so…

Anyway, looks like the technology has a long way to go, I ended up just writing the report myself.  Old fashioned style. I’ll email it to you, shall I?

I hope you like it. I really made an effort… worked all night on it… I’ve got my internship review coming up, after all Mr Folkes.  I’d love to work for this company… get a foot in the door of such a promising new business. I hope you’re going to make a submission to the review board.

I actually took the liberty of drafting one for you, using the GPT thing again. Funny: speaking of foot in the door, it’s mostly about feet, actually. My feet. And about you. Anyway, I don’t think it would be very suitable, but it might give you some ideas, if you’d like a copy?

Her opinions

 …although I share them, obviously, even the ones I haven’t been told about.

 

She’s taking this very casually at the moment, but don’t worry: I’m sure it’ll come up again in the next weekly reminder session.



Best to get it over quickly.  After all, the whole point of chastity play is the chastity, not the orgasms.  Some men don’t get that, at first.



Deniably, that is.  I’m sure she could think of many, many things he could die of, were it not for the pettifogging legal system.


As it turned out, he did indeed ‘experience fresh challenges while continuing to deepen his existing skill set’ in his session with Strict Madame Lydia, so that worked out well too.


She gets a lot of job satisfaction.  Not just the pain she gets to inflict, obviously, because she’s a professional with a keen interest in social rehabilitation.  No: it’s the humiliation and the misery, too.



First oppressions matter

It’s good to have a mid-morning energy boost, especially when you’ve got Class 6d at 11.15.  They can be a bit challenging, I’ve heard.

 



Good to know she’s researched it so carefully.  Anyway, would it matter so much?  More than her need to be soaped matters?  I don’t think so, and nor do you if you’re honest with yourself, right?


Actually, he might end up trying to mate with Elisa.  Not his decision, after all.



Boys can do computer too.  And I don’t just mean cleaning keyboards. And not just getting the coffee, although obviously with only one male in the team no one else is going to be doing that.





Fortunately, all your pain receptors still work.


Due deference


Don’t worry: as an experienced keyholder, she’s very well aware of men’s sexual needs and makes sure they’re satisfied – unless there’s an urgent deadline, she’s teleworking or you receive a ‘needs improvement’ on your performance review, or something.  Not their sexual wants, you understand, but definitely their needs.





There’s really no need for males to learn mathematical techniques beyond basic counting and thanking. I often even get that wrong, to be honest.




If its something you’re already good at, then maybe you should try that 10,000 hours technique, you know?  That’s all you need to become really expert.




It’ll be good practice for when he’s released to forage for himself.


Aitor might make a bit of a mess later too, so thank goodness you’re around.


Ideas above my station

 

Scurry scurry scurry…



In practice a lot of the psychological elements flow fairly naturally from the pain and from the dread of it,


Coding’s a valuable skill in today’s economy but getting the coffee that helps keep the coding girls focused is vital too.  Not as well paid – obviously, as a traditional male occupation – but there’s more to life than money and the satisfaction of a menial job done adequately cannot really be priced.  Plus, a really good coffee boy might have a shot at a tampon boy position, should one become available.  Better than sitting in front of a computer staring at boring old code, amirite?





So brave she bought a weekly pass enabling her to see any show she pleases.  But watching Mark will be special for her, obviously.






This picture in welts was just chance but some dommes take pride in their artistic skill with the whip.  My SO likes to do Mondrians on me, for instance.  I don’t mind the lines, it’s the areas of uniform flat colour that really sting.

A happy Cruella shoot, of course, with all three participants enjoying the balmy British summer.


De-toxifying masculinity

I suspect she’s already got the job on the basis of her proven leadership potential.

 

 

 

At least twelve years… and that’s subject to good behaviour.  Admittedly, almost every single inmate is on his very best behaviour every second of every day, from about day two or three onward…. but nonetheless, somehow very few of them manage to qualify for early release.  I suppose the wardens are just being careful, bless them… protecting the public.

 

 


Not sure permission to kneel was actually formally given, there, was it?  Hmmm.

 

It must be a lot of fun having an underground swimming pool – this rich couple I know had one constructed, and I’m not sure I’ve seen the husband since it was completed.  Apparently he spends all his time down there.


 

 

 

Oh, right.  Well, if Raoul has needs, obviously that’s different.  Sigh.

 

 

Stocking fillers

Always such a rush… I mean, you wait all year for Christmas, then…

 

 

Many submissive men are rather bad at shorthand, which is a shame as most dominant ladiies really enjoy dictating.

 

 

I once jokily asked a domme if she did ‘big penis humiliation’ – and rather to my surprise she said she did, although as it turned out most of the actual work in-session was done by her friend Marcus.

 

 

No, no… don’t make me sniff that stinky stocking, Brer Mistress!

 

 

 

If you’re crying more often than you’re coming you’ve reached next-level sub status. Either that or you’re much too young to be reading this blog.


Comeuppances

 A lovely word.  Rarely used in the plural, but there are some of us that need repeated reminders.


Of course, as an employee you are welcome to put forward any criticisms you might have of that policy. They have policies about dealing with employee feedback, too.  Lots of policies.



Perhaps he could save himself some tribute money, when they announce the results of the next teachers’ pay review.



There’s a reason that dial goes up to ten, so why not turn it all the way and let it stay there? I suspect the guidelines are erring on the side of caution and anyway, even it does break, they could always get another.


Sounds like she has the haughty ‘domme’ attitude down pat already.  I suspect she’s going to be really good at this.



That does sound a bit fearsome. Thank goodness it’ll only be temporary.






Savage elegance

… and elegant savagery too.  Both are good.

 

She’s being remarkably patient with you, but patience has its limits you know.

 

 

I’m not sure it’s entirely sensible to assign such an important task to someone who is obviously completely unqualified and inexperienced.  Those plants need just the right amount of water: too much and they drown, too little and they dry out.

 


He’ll have plenty of opportunity to think about it, which is just as well, given he is male.

 

 

Poor Treasure… I’m sure she is wracked with paroxysms of guilt.  Maybe she needs a kiss and a cuddle, hmm?
 

 

 

Girl talk… good thing the guys have got more important things to be getting on with, than sitting around listening to her prattle on.

Superior sex

 She is it, and she also has it.


Perhaps you should discuss her salary expectations soon, as I think right now they are increasing rapidly.


She uses ‘cruelty free’ cosmetic products but I’m afraid that attitude extends only to animals. Non-human animals, I mean.


The system is open to abuse by women seeking to save money on nursing care for their elderly male relatives unfortunately. But a recent inquiry into the prevalence of false accusations of crminal sexism concluded (a) that it was not so very high and (b) that the old bastards probably deserved it anyway. So that’s all right.


Imagine putting her to so much trouble. And he calls himself submissive…


The lady visting OWK in this pastoral scene is Goddess Sophia, whose cages, canes and (most memorably) gloriously swishy rubber dress Servitor has had the honour to experience – and can thoroughly recommend to UK-based subs. She may or may not still be in business and is not the lady of the same name in Portsmouth, who I am sure is equally lovely.

I imagine Douglas knows many things they don’t… lots of secret little thoughts.