Category: girls with guns

I worked eleven hours and bought the girl some flowers

Makes it all worthwhile (trigger warning: link contains scenes of male equality and ordinary life).

It’s amazing how much easier the invention of electricity has made these simple tasks. In the old days she’d have had to bend you over, whack you with a birch rod or something… now she just presses a button enough times, and presto you’re balancing books! We have a lot to be thankful for.






Most of the book’s concerned with proper cleaning and ironing of military uniforms.  You’ll be discovering a lot about that, later on. Still – first things first.






Caption writing’s like that.  At first, you really agonise about whether you’ve tersely managed to capture the essence of a scene, but after a while you realise you can just publish any old crap and the sad wankers who read your blog will keep coming anyway, because they only want to look at the pictures.  Which is really great if you run out of original or clever ideas!

Dommes in the city.




Don’t worry. She‘s not going to have to stay on duty for fourteen hours.  They share the time between three of them. It’s quite tiring work, whipping men into carrying great piles of stones around, after all.

All that she wants

… she gets.

Best not to argue.  You don’t want to end up with your allowance stopped again.

You would.  Well, you can’t shoot a smoking scene with unlit cigarettes.  Looks like they’re going to have to revert to plan B: ball-busting.

And we all know how slowly that can be.

She’s going to get their top saleswoman award this month. Quite remarkable, with only one client.

Anyway, she’s got a bunch of medical gear, so if it goes wrong she’s well-prepared.


Owner-controlled

It’s good to live in a comunity united around a shared interest.

Her feelings matter, remember.  A lot.

 

I’d reach for ‘Polite dissenting opinion No 1’ but ‘we’ decided to remove it from the approved list.


It’s a good idea to wear a lot of pink, to avoid being mistaken for a feral male. Ferals hate wearing pink – especially frilly lacy things.




Aww… sweet.  My own SO asked me how I’d like her to remember me and I suggested an alarm on her phone, every month when it’s time to change the straw. It’s working out pretty well.


Mistress and Commander

Celebrating the more militaristic side of our little hobby.  Destruction, brutality, war, death… it’s sad there are these things in our world, but there’s nothing wrong with having a little sexy fun with them, is there?


As a British citizen, I don’t actually carry ID, but I do have an ownership tattoo, so let’s hope that will suffice.

 

It
happens. You know, the ninth Women’s Gestapo regiment once managed to
lose an entire infantry divisions-worth of POWs. Careless, but war’s
messy, right?


Her way’s a lot quicker, too.
Obviously enough, a lovely image from the British Institution. 
You know, there are lots of organisations called “The British
Institute” of this, that and the other.  I hope they enjoy the
ocasional accidental surf to prison.

Don’t worry. You get at least four more opportunities for appeal. We are going to fight this!
The divine, lovely, commanding Mistress Eleise de Lacy is no longer associated with Femme Fatale films and is cross with them (but oh, it’s wonderful when Mistress Eleise is cross with you, as I can personally attest!).  So I won’t be linking to them, for images featuring her.  And the not-always-in-charge Miss Woods is here.

Right, like her name’s really Vinyl Queen, huh?  Dommes, eh? Do they think the rules don’t apply to them?
  I’m guessing that’s who it is, from a Google Image search.  Do correct me if I’m wrong.




Since love is blind, then from the mind, all womankind should rout them.

… because she hates men.

It’s nice when newlyweds have pet names for each other.  But ‘bully’ just isn’t appropriate.  ‘Boss’ is a good one – he could try that, maybe?


I’m glad she’s taking precautions because some itching powders can be really nasty.  But see those gloves?  That’s safe BDSM play.  She’ll be fine. 

Oh – stop worrying!  They’re not going to starve to death or anything!  This blog can’t abide excessively violent scenes, you know that.  No: they’ll die of thirst long before they starve.

Let’s hope this one turns out better than the previous 117.  But if not, that’s valuable knowledge too.  Science: it’s all about reproducibility of the results.
Very lightly.  Safe, sane, consensual – remember?


You can wear the uniform and I could play along

And so it goes…

“…and if there’s war between the sexes then there’ll be no people left.  “
Actually, I’ve never believed that. Some of us would be traitorous quislings from the start, for one thing.

PS – she didn’t recognise him, actually.  Not her fault – they used to get a lot of men at OWK.  They all look the same after a while, I expect. 

 
 
The holiday starts here.
 
 
 
 

 

Some of us have high natural levels of this chemical in our bloodstreams already.  It’s produced in the spleen, I expect.  Mostly because I enjoy typing the word ‘spleen’, which is a rather underused organ in femdom porn, I’ve always felt.
 

 

 

 

It’s best not to let the cute ones off too lightly.
 
 
Nazi dominatrices!  Cute, huh?  A bit illegal in Germany, but hey – this is the blog that treats its readers with contempt, remember?

Blonde justice

C’mon now!  Are you going to let her get away with that? Huh?
Oh.  OK then. 
 
 

 

Yeah, the human body has remarkable self-healing powers. And if not, there are lots more men out there.
 
 
 

 

She should watch out… illegal to watch that sort of thing in Britain.  Illegal just about everywhere to actually do it too, so don’t worry about a thing – she’s only playing.
 
 
 

 

Just try to hold onto the memory. For about eight weeks.
 
 

 

I like to be helpful.

Respectful silence

…

Get ready… they’re rough.
 

 

It adds a bit of tension to an otherwise dull game.
 
 

 

Very wise.
 

 

Oooh.
 
 
 
Of course, there’s always a risk in catching up with old schoolfriends, that they’ll make you feel bad by being, like, waaay more successful. But really, when your future’s the butcher’s hook, there’s no point in drawing fine distinctions, I say.
 
 

Gynophilia/gynophobia

The love of women and the fear of women.  I have both conditions.

Hmmm… She’s merely disappointed, not repulsed. I’ll consider that as progress.

 

It’s a sacred bond – or a device for getting the housework done, depending on whether your finger’s on the button.

 

Don’t worry: he’s very professional.  You can be tied tightly naked over his trestle, and no matter how horny he’s feeling, you won’t have a thing to worry about. Well, except the savage beating you’re about to receive, obviously.

 

…and she does mean everywhere.
She’ll track them down. She’s very persistent. Anyway, can’t have feral males running about the place can we?

 

It’s a tonic for the troops!

 

 

Women, eh? Sometimes there’s no pleasing them.  You try to apologise, and they just run you over with a tank anyway.  Still… I guess we wouldn’t have them any other way, eh chaps?



 




Cathie might need a new lawyer in her stable.  She gets through slaves quite quickly – doesn’t look after them properly, truth be told.
 







She has a plan.
 This is the delightfully delightful Miss Tiffany Naylor. ‘A dominatrix based in Milton Keynes.’ To be honest, for me that’s a hard limit right there.  But it would be worth it, to meet her.






I suppose there’s little chance of either being a blow job? No? Worth asking…
 






I suppose any Radio 4 listeners amongst you will want to point ou that I got the apostrophe in the wrong place.  Radio 4 listeners are like that.

The rest of you have no fucking idea what I’m talking about, have you?  I don’t know myself sometimes, to be honest.
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