..but I think we’ve long ago established that, no? Anyway, it’s just yet more 1980s pop, this time from Mistress Tracy (Tracy). Distressingly SFW, like so much in life.
There’s nothing here that is real
Category: dominatrix
Suitable for a princess
Just another one of those captions that became so long it wasn’t really a caption any more so I’m calling it a story.
Your princess? Really, am I? Aww… that’s nice.
Maybe you’d like to hear your princess tell you a story, hmm? Don’t worry: you can keep doing that. Right between the toes: there’s a good boy.
Once upon the time, there was a beautiful princess who lived in far-off Milton Keynes. She was so beautiful and so talented that men from far and wide fell in love with her. Princes, knights, rich merchant bankers… even footslaves so ugly she had to make them wear latex masks, who loved to lick her sweaty toes. They all fell in love with her, but she really didn’t give a flying fuck, as long as they paid her and gave her presents on special occasions.
Like her birthday: that was the specialest occasion of all. The princess hated it if any of her ungrateful and moronic worshippers forgot her birthday. No – don’t stop doing the foot thing, slave. I’ve got something else planned in a moment, but you can keep doing that for now.
So, at the end of one birthday the princess made a little list of all the slaves who hadn’t fucking bothered to give her a present – who couldn’t even extend her the basic courtesy of an email or something. You know: to take, like, one minute out of their day to wish a happy birthday to the lady they claim is the light of their sad little fucked-up lives. And she decided that the next time each of those nasty little ingrates sessioned with her, she’d give them a really hard pain session, that went way beyond their ‘limits’. Like, for example, her pathetic little footslave who was ‘really not into pain, Mistress’: she decided she was going to clamp his nipples and bollocks with tight, tight clamps and attach heavy weights to them, then whip him raw. Maybe finish off with some electric shocks or ball-busting. Or both.
Of course, the princess realized, it would have to be consensual. But the self-centred bastards who’d forgotten her birthday would be given a choice: consent to the pain session the selfish little sods so richly deserved, or never see Mistress and her beautiful feet ever, ever, ever again. Either way, she thought, next birthday she’d have presents from all her slaves: any who didn’t consent would be living sad lonely lives without her and the remaining ones would be too fucking terrified to forget a second time, after the sheer hell she planned to deal out to them.
Now… I want you to help me write the end of the story, slave. Not the very end, that’s “And the princess lived happily ever after.” It’s the bit just before that. What do you think is going to happen?
No, you can stop licking my foot now – maybe that was for the last time, isn’t it exciting? – and I’ll go and get the bondage cross ready, while you have a think.
The part of the princess in this tale was played by the very lovely and delightful Tiffany Naylor, who does indeed hold court in the magical land of Milton Keynes*, where I once encountered her and very lovely and very delightful she was. Naturally, none of the actions of the fictional dominatrix depicted here should be attributed to the real Tiffany Naylor, although I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets cross if her regulars forget her birthday**, as that’s perfectly normal (and normally perfect) dominatrix behaviour.
* For Americans or other foreigners unfamiliar with this place, Milton Keynes is one of the most historic towns in England. You can easily spend several days there, just strolling around the medieval streets, drinking in the scenic beauty of the old town and swapping stories with its charming inhabitants. Wisely, the local authorities have avoided the excess tourism that has damaged the charm of some other historic English locations, like Stratford on Avon, by ensuring there is little to be found on the Internet about the rich history and architecture of this unspoilt gem, but those in the know regard it as being on the must-see list for any visitor seeking to explore England’s historic treasures.
** 3rd of August!
Whipping posts
This is the magnificently magnificent Gigi Allens. Who also makes vanilla porn movies – which is a sad waste of a powerful talent, but at least shows us what we are all missing and always shall.
Hear her roar
… and hear me squeak.
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| I’m not allowed to look my SO in the eye under any circumstances, so for that (and other) reasons this situation never arises for me. |
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| Loving brutal domination… that hits the sweet spot (repeatedly, raising welts and leaving it throbbing and sore). |
Hard to understand atheists who say there’s no such thing as a divine being, in a world on which Mistress Eleise walks among us.
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| I wouldn’t mind but it’s seven floors up and the male lift (‘elevator’, Americans but you knew that right?) has been out of action all week. |
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| It’s odd how often I find myself begging my SO for mercy, when begging her for brutal and gleeful ferocity would be so much more likely to succeed. |
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| It’s actually quite common for bridegrooms to feel a little nervous and apprehensive before |
Imperial, mysterious
…and in amorous array.
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| Lots of men get a bit nervous on their wedding days, but some have more cause for it than others. |
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| But she is wearing everyday clothes, isn’t she? |
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| Very weird. |
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| Men are often not good at prioritising. She can help with that. |
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| Actually, Julie’s not keen on putting things out of their misery. Neither of them are. |
Sweet surrender
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| It’s basically harmless: it’s just in a cage to keep it from getting into trouble, that’s all. |
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| Life-long learning. Apparently we’ll all be doing that in the future, which sounds very exciting. |
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| No, nothing. |
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| Happiest day of your life they say. OK, that’s not always true but it does seem certain there will be a great many days after this one that are thoroughly unhappy, so it’s quite an accurate description. |
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| Oh well. She tried. Now she’ll try something else. |
Brutal realism
Contradicting the statement over there about the realism or otherwise of the material presented on this blog, just for once we are keeping it real with some accurate depictions of pro-domme sessions, rather than the fantasy this blog usually purveys.
So clutch your crumpled envelope full of banknotes tightly in your sweaty hand, turn off geolocator on your phone (but keep the phone itself on until the last second so you can nervously glance at the time as you hang around the nearby streets trying neither to be early nor late), try to look casual as you march up to the door, not meeting the eyes of any passers-by… and enjoy. Or don’t. Whatever.
Her object all sublime
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| And they say romance is dead. |
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| Remarkably, it’s still valid in the UK even after Brexit, as that Convention is not an EU instrument – indeed it predates it, having come into existence in 1953. Not particularly amusing, sexy or femdommy but actually true (see – you get a lot of useful information from this blog, as well as useless nonsense). You might wonder, therefore, whether she actually has any legal justification to ban the invocation of the Convention in session – but I advise you to take that up with her. |
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| They have a standard service charge of 175% for pay-piggies. But you should tip, too. |
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| Many men’s misconceptions about lesbian sex actually have a biological basis: specifically, their brains are too small to understand it. |
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| It’s good that she gets a chance to practice in a safe environment, where it really doesn’t matter if anything goes wrong. |
Extra one that I’ll push out there while it’s still a bit topical:
Docility
“the fact or quality of being easily handled, managed, or led; meek and unquestioning obedience or compliance”
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| Obviously. Let’s hope Jennie’s getting better at it, now she’s onto her fourth try. |
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| It’s one of those logical impossibilities – you know, like ‘a man saying “all men are lying, cheating bastards'”. Male philosophers used to debate these things endlessly, but I understand they are kept busy with more important, practical tasks these days. |
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| I don’t think he objects to being inside the couch, it’s more that he was expecting to be alone in there. |
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| Mrs Elton’s a good neighbour, anyway – happy to pop round and help out whenever your wife needs a hand. |
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| Topping from the bottom can take many forms – all equally objectionable. When my SO plays with me, for instance, there’s often a very fine line between “pleading frantically for mercy through the screams” – which she enjoys – and “expressing an opinion on when she should stop hitting me”, which she dislikes intensely. |
This is the lovely Vinyl Queen, who is in the lucky position of never having experienced the unpleasantness that is Servitor in session and is relatively unlikely to move to Edinburgh, being based as she is in San Francisco. Her other interest is gardening.
She’s the latest and the greatest of them all
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| Dommes and cats… am I right? Ever noticed that? Dommes and cats… |
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| And a lot harder |
The simply wonderful Amy Hunter. I once had the remarkable pleasure and the still more remarkable pain (mainly the tawse on the hands – ow!) of visiting her.
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| I have a purpose to my existence. My SO has promised some day to tell me what it is. |
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| Arachnophobia play is quite culturally specific. In the UK it’s just a matter of harmless terror, but in Australia I’ve heard it ‘s considered quite edgy. |
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| It wasn’t actually feeling that nervous – it’s just got one of those faces, you know? But it’s beginning to get a bit jittery right now. |
