Stories and pictures themed around female domination and male subjugation and servitude. Unsuitable for children, for alpha males, for hard-core practitioners with an interest in the politics of bdsm and the mechanics of complicated rope work. Of interest to perverts like me, basically.
Oh – a CtD post on a Thursday! Hmm, you say. Must be an extra, because Servitor is celebrating the blog’s fifteenth anniversary. And certainly not because silly Servitor messed up the dates in scheduling the posts and thought 29 January was a Friday and noticed too late to delete it, as Sam had already commented. No no no no no… So, yeah, an extra post, because Friday’s post hurriedly recscheduled from later in February will obviously come out as normal tomorrow.
They say the secret of a successful relationship is mutual respect. Which just goes to show how little ‘they’ know. She says the secret of a successful relationship is tyranny and fear and I really can’t disagree with her on that.
Findommes… the unsung heroines of the consumer economy.
It’s funny, back when I was dating, two of the girls I – OK, OK both of the girls I slept with – rated my perfomance as the ‘worst fuck in human history’. Which doesn’t strike me as being right, as one of those fucks must have been worse than the other. Of course, I’m using ‘sleep’ as a euphemism – I never actually ‘slept’ with them, if you know what I mean: they threw me out. But not before I’d had my eighteen seconds of passion!
He didn’t wonder why she was constructing a prison cell in the cellar? Ah, love makes one blind. So does masturbation, ‘they’ say, although my SO says red-hot needles are actually more effective.
I wonder… have any subs who’ve been in this situation ever been tempted to stop brushing for just a moment, turn the hairbrush round and administer a sharp, stinging… I mean, I’m not saying I have, of course! Just to be clear, ahem. But it’s like – or I imagine it would be like – that feeling you get standing on the edge of a cliff, you know? That you could just… jump. Only a lot more dangerous than that, obviously.
Ah, Gigi Allens. A lady with plenty of inches and strong hips to back them up.
Yes, what a touching story. I like to imagine that every time she sees them sparkle, she’s reminded of how she has lots of other lovely necklaces too. Long-time readers will of course be well aware that my visions of the future show that in her political career, President Annie will re-orient male vocational training towards traditional, manly, backbreaking labour or domestic tasks, so really the college fund was no loss.
You might think this is even worse than that couple caught on the audience cam but don’t worry: it’s all consensual. The three ladies were asked and they said they didn’t mind at all their subs being exposed and humiliated in a clip gathering hundreds of millions of views.
She has quite a lot of interaction with her readership (as do I when the sodding spam filter permits it). She encourages readers to send in their dick pics, for example, often with the dicks in question artfully arranged in vases, or hung as Christmas decorations. She prefers not to receive any of the actual dicks, of course, as the postal service gets funny about that sort of thing, but a few over-enthusiastic readers do like to send her their best cuttings.
In today’s cut-throat business world, any opportunity for effective networking should be taken up. The other businessman featured here was due to go to Davos but his PA messed up and booked him in OWK instead. Poor thing, she must have felt awful about her mistake.
The guy has it easy, if you think about it: I mean, the ladies are the ones doing all the work. Jasmine’s amazing, by the way: she doesn’t hold back. I don’t know where she gets her stamina. I hope he’s appropriately grateful.
Don’t worry, after a few years of marriage you’ll have a very keenly-developed understanding of exactly what annoys her and by precisely how much. There’s quite a lot, but one of the joys of marriage is learning about one another, isn’t it?
I suspect the hairdresser might be slightly less amused if she discovers how much money Mistress is being paid to sit there and mock her slave, compared to how much she’s actually paying for the haircut. Well… she‘s not actually going to be paying this time, obviously, and she’ll make sure he leaves a massive tip, but you know what I mean.
He’s barely paying attention because he’s upset she hasn’t noticed or commented on the ‘anniversary bunny ears’. He went to so much trouble…
He will. Mentally, he already is and has been for some years now.
Money discussions can often be the most difficult and painful things a relationship has to cope with to a relationship. I’m grateful to my SO, because she has found a way to ensure we never have to discuss money at all.
I used to have delusions of adequacy, but these days I know my limits.
He might prefer being screamed at in Czech, but I’m afraid Mistress Morrigan Hel and Goddess Sophia speak his language – and would like to hear his appreciation in it. Doesn’t their hair look lovely in the sun? And don’t their boots? And their attitudes?
She enjoys the slapping of course, but waking up next to a loved one with painful bruises on his face and welts all over his body is the true value of the relationship, for her.
These are my principles. If you don’t like them (and you are female) I have others.
Good thing she brought a sub. They’re used to them on fashion shoots, of course: no self-respecting model would be seen without an obedient puppy boy on a leash or a sissy maid at a respectful three paces behind, these days.
She prides herself on being the perfect hostess: it’s all about making sure someone makes the effort to prepare everything properly before the guests arrive, apparently.
Humiliation play can be a tricky thing. I once met up with a domme in cafe for public humiliation play and soon found myself being insulted, belittled and eventually slapped by this elegant, blonde lady in high heels and furs. Perfect – until I discovered I’d got the wrong cafe entirely and the domme I’d booked had been waiting impatiently in the one around the corner. Most embarassing.
If all that fails, I understand there’s a briar patch they can throw you into.
I hope someone tells the patient that someone with the right skills and training is looking after his wife. Otherwise he might be feeling anxious for her.
Trying to top from the bottom again, were you? She’s wise to your little power-play.
Try thinking of her needs rather than your own, for a change.
If he correctly picks a yellow one he gets an orgasm. So there’s that to look forward to.
Just remember the two absolute rules: (1) never lie to Mistress and (2) Mistress is always right. As long as your answer conforms to both of those, you should be fine.
She likes it done just right. It never, ever is.
Oh dear. And the punishment was nearly done before that little act of defiance.
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.
John Calvin said that, kinky little slut that he was.
Scurry scurry….
I hope that isn’t real fur. It’s cruel, you know.
Oh, I hate sissy play-dates, don’t you? Sometimes I’d rather just be left at home, chained up on the back porch. But my preferences don’t enter into it.
I don’t see what isn’t sexy about any of that.
He should take her seriously. Very, very seriously.
No need to try to remember when you last saw it, obviously, as you don’t forget something like that.
Teach a man to fish, he’ll catch fish whenever he feels like it and probably spend most of his time masturbating; brutally cane him whenever he fails to meet his fish quota, you can live off the fishery earnings for life.
Isn’t that more important? I mean, for one thing she’s going to have a lot more orgasms than you would – as will the two lads too – so it’s a net plus, in utilitarian terms.
Honestly, they’ve gone to all this trouble to give you a terrifying, agonising and life-threatening experience… seems churlish to whine about the weather.
But any lady who does actually decide to break a leg should make sure it belongs to someone not in the show.
There’s no excuse for that kind of blatant rebellion; I hope she deals firmly with it.
I always get embarassed in these situations – when you’re with someone and she starts talking to someone else and you’re kind of there, but also not really in the conversation, you know? You can try nuzzling her shoes, or something, to remind her you’re there too, but it’s still usually a bit awkward.
OWK being OWK, of course, the used wax strips covered in this animal’s fur will then be stirred into the slops for the next feeding time in the Queen’s Prison.
Pink? Pink? Well what’s wrong with pink?
She always feels it’s best to be businesslike, rather than sentimental, when breaking off a relationship.
She wants you to have an orgasm, but you’re not making it easy for her.
