















The lovely Maîtresse Blanche, there, who applies her treatments in a pretty little town near Fontainebleu outside Paris. I have been in that position, presumably in that very chair, and I was coping… OK with it all, until she discovered I was ticklish. But she coped very well with my not coping.








…and an extra one, which I wrote in a particularly worshipful mood.

… although actually that’s not true (like many things on this blog), because obviously in session you can get away with calling her ‘Mistress’. Which was just as well for me, as I’d always assumed it was some variant of ‘El-ee-ssa’. I was granted the extraordinary privilege of visiting Mistress Eleise three or four times about ten years ago and I never did realise I was saying her name wrong in my head until I heard her say it in a video, quite recently. Fortunately, I never committed the unforgiveable sin of mispronouncing her name out loud, to her very feet (oh, those feet…). Not that it got me out of the slappings (and the mocking… oh, that mocking!) I so thoroughly deserved.






More captioned images celebrating the delightful ways our superiors can be unreasonable and unfair.






Lady Sophia Black, who I can tell you from personal and painful but wonderful experience did the ‘impossible to please’ thing better than any other domme I have ever known.
A silly little thing (I know I am but what are you? Oh no, hang on…). Anyway, just a poem, not worth taking up a whole posting slot, so up it goes as an extra.

“I don’t know how you cope”
Said the gimp to the simp
“With her constant demands for more cash.
Don’t you long when you meet her, to kiss shoes to greet her
Or serve as a tray for her ash?”
“It’s my kink and that’s that.”
Said the simp to the gimp
“But your lifestyle is hardly ideal.
Caged or chained all alone, with no life of your own
Till you’re summoned to crawl at her heel.”
“I’m her pet and I’m proud!”
Said the gimp to the simp
And he showed off his monogrammed collar.
“You’re just moneyslave 9; when you’re typing online
All she sees is the sign of the dollar.”
“At least I can type”
Said the simp to the gimp
Showing fingers splayed out, with a grin.
“I can move my hands freely and stand on my feet – see?
My meals don’t come out of a tin.”
“Right!” – started the gimp
But his voice was soon stopped
By a ball gag, inserted at speed.
“Your mouth’s not to bicker, you boot and floor-licker!”
And the gimp was dragged off on a lead.
“Well that finished fast”
The simp chortled in glee
Then with shock he caught sight of his phone.
“Too slow to reply – that’s three times now, so bye!”
And he sat there, all sad and alone.













A new theme. No resemblance to any actual products made by real companies with highly litigious legal departments is intended.






Don’t worry: these ladies won’t.






… and as an extra, here’s a sweet little femdom video if you like that sort of thing.