Category: cuckold

Ordered relationship

According to Wikipedia’s page on Order Theory: “In other contexts, orders may capture notions of containment.”  Well, that’s certainly true.  There are several types of orders, if I understand correctly, among which ‘strict ordering’ is clearly the best.

Oh, I think we know what Natasha’s going to say. She’s been breaking boys’ legs since she was a teenager.

Sounds like a lot of fun. Get to work!

If everything not OK, there might be some bureaucratic formalities to go through, at the male holding centre.

You have something you’d rather spend 60% of your income on, than the divine Lady Sophia Black?
 Awww no… I went to put in a link but her website has shut down and she is protecting her tweets.  I hope Lady Sophia hasn’t retired from the scene.  She’s wonderful.

She’s gone to all that trouble. The least you can do is suffer for her, hmm?


Love hurts

…in all sorts of unexpected ways. But today is the day for celebrating love, harking all the way back to St Valentine himself who found love while incarcerated behind the bars of a prison cell, before being tortured to death.  He remains an inspiration to us all.

You can’t run away from love.




She’s working hard for this marriage.  Maxim and Sven are probably going to be giving it their all too. So what about you?






Just once.






Love can also express itself through pain, terror, panic – especially when instruments of torture are involved.  It’s just part of how it feels, when it’s real, you know?




I had a friend who wanted to give his SO the ultimate gift, and secretly commissioned a designer leather firm to sort it out. Sadly, there was a mix-up and he ended up as about a fifth of a matching armchair and sofa set that was sold to some billionaire in Qatar with more money than taste. But she would have been quite touched by the gesture, had she ever known about it.

Masculinity is a treatable medical condition.

Look, I do understand the hypocrisy involved in my advancing political opinions, but can I just comment on this view going around that Trump’s election is in some way a consequence of ‘political correctness’?
Trump was elected merely because of a ridiculous quirk in the US electoral system, that might have made sense in the eighteenth century but has no relevance to the modern world: namely, that men are allowed to vote.  The country basically voted 54% to 42% for Clinton, before all those male votes were taken into account and it’s absurd this should have been allowed to distort the result.  Sure, it’s nice to let men feel they can take part, but to actually let them cast ballots unsupervised is just political correctness gone mad, and now we have to live with the consequences.
I mean, honestly, you wouldn’t let a man make decisions about the family finances, or how best to iron your blouse or what time he goes to bed, would you?  So why on earth would you let him have a say in choosing the President?

Doesn’t make sense to me.  But then, I am ‘chromosomally challenged‘* so what do I know?
(* and yes, I am using that politically correct phrase ironically. What’s wrong with just saying ‘a stupid boy‘ for goodness sake?  When did we stop calling things what they are?)
Thank goodness things round here are still sane and matriarchal. 


She seems to be controlling his masculinity problem nicely.
She loves her work.  You will too.



I think she’s recognising that his behaviour has been causing pain in their marriage – but not quite enough pain.







I wonder how the consultant goes about measuring her?





Secondary sexual characteristics – they’re even more annoying than the primary ones, sometimes.  Fortunately, a simple surgical procedure can deal with both at the same time.


Losing my religion

OK, so my bitlocked external drive has had a bit of an old crash and makes nasty clicky grindy noises when it tries to go (and there is no way I am taking that particular collection of corrupted files to a computer expert recovery place, thank you).  So I’ve lost a few months of stuff since the last backup.  And by good luck, I haven’t lost any of the captions I posted during that time but I have lost the file structure that tells me whether I have ever posted them before or not.


So, for the next few months or so, if you find yourself thinking that CtD is even more repetitive and tedious than usual, it probably is and it might be because I’m repeating myself with an image I’ve already posted some time between July and October this year. Tell me in the comments and I won’t replace it directly, but I’ll add a sixth image to the next post.  Or something.


Anyway, the show limps on despite technical difficulties, so here we go again:


I’ve nothing to say about this one.  Not for another four months, anyway.
She’s got a point there.  One of the mistakes newly maried couples often make is thinking they have to do everything together.  There are lots of things my SO and I do separately – for example, being chained up naked cold and alone in the cellar is my special thing and there’s no reason for her not to go out clubbing while I’m doing it.
Don’t judge them too harshly. Most new dommes mess up their first breathplay session. Plenty more subs out there, so it really doesn’t matter.



Sooner or later most subs realise it’s not all about them. Some lucky ones eventually realise it’s not about them at all.





‘k.

Long to reign over us

 
Ymmmph

 

Like many dommes, she’s actually the kindest person you could ever meet. Although she must know that the poor thing’s probably already dead, she’s going to pull and push and press and kick with all her might, if there’s still a chance that could get it out unharmed
Yes – useful tip there: it’s a ‘storage space’.  I went to the out of town furniture superstore and asked to see beds with an inbuilt cuckie closet and the saleswoman gave me ever such a funny look.  She took me to the right section, though, so I suppose that it was all right.  And she even let Raoul and my wife try the mattress out, so in the end it worked out quite well for everyone.
 
Yeah, lots of people say size doesn’t matter but they’re not the ones being used as pain-toys because it’s all they’re good for, now, are they?
 The glorious Gigi Allens, of course.  Is there a sadder phrase anywhere on the Internet than her self-description as a ‘former professional dominatrix’?  Howl!


Actually, for me it was the maid’s costume in that movie.  Mrrrrow!

 

Domesticated bliss

Actually: confession time. I, servitor, am not actually into femdom at all. It’s all a cruel punishment perpetrated upon me by an evil woman who forces me to spend hours each week scouring the internet for pictures of ladies in leather boots, or holding canes – which don’t excite me at all! – and write silly captions on them. Oh, the torment.

Well, these things matter, y’know?  Sure, Kurt’s main priority right now is to spend the night fucking your wife like a piledriver.  But in the morning, he’s going to want a nice fresh pair of briefs to pull over his aching cock, amiright?

My SO, a few of her friends and I played this game with a tattoo pen once.  Goodness, we laughed!  Some of us.

Would it be to make a banana smoothie?

Cultural norms can vary a lot, even within the same country. At the office where I work, for example, I’m allowed on the furniture and to drink water without asking permission.


Thank Goddess it’s Friday!

It’s always such a relief to get home on a Friday evening after a tough week at work, when there’s still a few hours to make an early start on the weekend chores.


It’s a bit disappointing that they started without you, actually.  Maybe you should say something? Marriages should be founded on mutual respect.

What a lot of canes she has. One would be quite enough to reduce me to total obedience.  Women, eh?  Can’t control those shopping instincts.  Bless ’em.

Some time it really has to be my turn to serve. Surely.

Most blokes only play at 10, you see, and where can you go from there?

A very good point.  Sexual identity can be complicated.  Best to have someone else in charge of it, I say.
The lovely Mistress Akella, there.  But I forgot!  You’re gay (now) – so I don’t suppose you’re that interested in her?

Incidentally, readers, have any of you noticed that the new British Prime Minister has the same name as a rather splendid British domme?  Well, there’s an ‘h’ of difference but that’s all.  I can’t see the coincidence doing either of their careers any good at all, to be honest, but I wish both well.

Giving until it hurts

I donate all my spare money to the retired dominatrices’ malevolent fund. It doesn’t make me feel any better about myself, but it saves all that time that I used to waste buying stuff, eating out or going on holiday.

I have a very active fantasy life, as you can tell. Sometimes it does go too far, though.  I mean, really…men’s lib??  Come on Servitor…let’s try to keep the blog reasonably grounded in reality.


Yes, I’ve never had any problem with female authority figures.  My difficulty arises when we have 19 year-old female interns around the office.  They’re just not used to giving orders or having someone else get their coffee.  But over the course of a six week internship, they usually get the idea.

To cut a long story short: she said so, he protested, she insisted, he tearfully agreed and now it’s one of their biggest sellers.  So he can afford to give her even more tribute.  Funny how things work out.

That doesn’t mean she would always give you a handjob, of course. 

…and why it will continue to happen.





Humbled in her presence

Of course, for her it’ll be very different from having sex with you.  Longer… more enjoyable…and more frequent too.



 

Don’t worry – it’ll be very special for both of you, I am sure.

And weekly confession too.

Sometimes men need a little encouragement to make the right choice of their own free will.

She has a point, you know.  I’d say more, but I’ve a leash to fetch.
The wonderful, stern Miss Cassie Hunter, the Hunteress, of course – who rather thrillingly could surely not give a rats arse about this blog one way or the other. Mmm.. contempt play.

Oh, I hope there’ll be jellyfish

The servitor who uploads material to this blog will be on an undeserved holiday for the next few weeks.  Normally awful service will be maintained, through the magic of ‘scheduling’ and comments – especially abusive ones – remain as welcome as ever, but will not be responded to (so the grovelling apologies must wait).


The jellyfish thing? Oh yeah. This.

You know, I heard once that feeling sad and lonely is just your body’s way of telling you what an unpleasant person you are to be with?  Makes a lot of sense.

I’m slowly working my way into her affections, I reckon.

Mmmpphhh grtrrth.

Of course, they’ll need to use something else to achieve the burning sensation.  Hot coals, maybe? They’re very creative.

 

Hope there’s some beer for me.