fruit – Contemplating the divine

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.

What do you call a slave all wrapped up in brown paper?

Russell.

What do you call a trannie, with one ankle tied tightly up to ‘her’ genitals?

Eileen.

How many slaves does it take to – oh never mind. In my heart, I know I’m funny.

On with the pictures…I’ve got pages and pages of great material.

Still, no harm done.

I’d forgive her. Wouldn’t you forgive her?

He’s quite a big boy, but now he’ll be able to try small penis humiliation! For a while anyway. Isn’t that great?

I thought we’d try a change from the sexual themed pictures. Just a pretty girl eating a banana. Wholesome fun.

And you can call her Ma’am.