housework – Page 3 – Contemplating the divine

Oppressive domesticity

…it’s the best sort.

Some wives can be so possessive… probably best to humour her. Maybe she’ll get it out of her system some day.

Looks like she needs to make a choice. You’re her husband, that should count for something, surely?

Wouldn’t want it to be too easy.

After a busy day’s housework I once asked my SO what she’d do without me – I mean, I can’t imagine her doing the ironing or the washing up! “Get another one, just like last time”, apparently.

Well, I’m glad she had a proper massage. My own masseur seemed to have entirely the wrong idea about what I was after – left me feeling quite stiff and sore, to be honest.

Well-ordered

You’ll find her arguments compelling, I guarantee it.

I know that some subs who are subject to strict speech rules rather resent them, but personally I really can’t complain.

That Clause 17(b) is a tricky one, particularly as it is written in an obscure regional dialect of Czech. But it’s very useful.

And if you want something to take your mind off the pain, try letting yourself be overwhelmed by the frustration of a lifetime in chastity. See – it’s a kind of virtuous circle.

Or higher. Whatever.

My SO looked a bit worried when I asked her to ‘feminise’ me. She gently explained that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never make a convincing woman. Even if I were to try to mimic feminine behaviour such as intelligence, competence, courage and leadership, I simply could not get away with it. So obviously she was immensely relieved when I explained that all I meant was that I wanted to be dressed in a frilly pink dress and ordered to flounce around with a pout on my excessively made-up face. I was soon happily across her lap having my naughty little knickered bottom spanked and shrieking like a little girl, so that was all right.

I don’t think I’d want to be a real woman anyway. Too much responsibility. And not enough chores.

Don’t you just hate it when you’re sent off to play with other sissies? They can be so self-centred and immature. I’d rather just flounce about in front of Mistress, showing off my frillies. Perhaps I should try having a tantrum about it.

She looks lovely in it. And you’ll look lovely ironing it, too.

Actually, quite a lot of things taste a bit shoey to me right now, but that’s because for obvious health reasons I’m wearing the mask she made me most of the time, so it’s if the world were made of stinky socks. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing…

Don’t worry about looking foolish when you’re doing the little dance. Most of the passers-by probably won’t know what the moves and actions are supposed to be anyway. I’m sure they’ll find it amusing, though, and that’s the most important thing.

Rather like me, this gentleman makes an unconvincing woman, exhibiting as he does stereotypical male behaviour such as whining, laziness and cowardliness. Fortunately, Her Maj has ways of dealing with those.

Dumb hearts get broken

I just hate feeling useless…

Actually, the little hole can be opened up wider. But not for food.

Pookles is beginning to wonder whether he should put his foot down in this relationship. Or just throw himself on the floor and scream uncontrollably.

Don’t try to understand women’s sexuality. It’s more complex and subtle than the male variety.

Maybe she’ll let you kiss her feet afterwards, before dragging yourself from her presence.

And a little bit of found femdom for you. This is the webcomic Fluffy Bunny, which seems to be quite old but I had not encountered before. Mostly it’s a bit too cute for my tastes, but I did like this one:

Craven cravings

It’s not that Robert can’t do his own, obviously. But you’re so much better at it than him – and so much worse at sex. It just makes sense all round.

You’ll notice she hasn’t said you have to decide quickly, as she’s getting a lot of interest from other potential occupants? That’s because she isn’t and anyway, she’s already decided.

A cover’s probably best. They’re quite compassionate, the two of them, so having something unpleasant like that in sight could ruin what they had planned to be rather a special moment.

Ah… back in the time when the gimp suit came off at the end of the day. I miss that stage of our relationship, but times change, I suppose, and we move on.

It’s best not to quibble about the word ‘enjoy’. It’s like the word ‘slavery’ – means different things to different people.

She’s right, you know

She just is.

My
SO once told me that it was on our honeymoon that I gave her the best
sex she’s ever experienced. Which is a bit of luck, really, as you
never know what you’re going to get when you’re in a foreign place and
you don’t know the escort agencies well.

It’s only fair: she took his electric razor, when they split up, I understand.

Got there eventually. Well done. Now let’s talk about ironing pleats.

Don’t worry: he won’t allow himself to be improperly influenced. Properly influenced, yes, certainly, possibly even vigorously influenced. But no more than that.

Women, eh? Sometimes you’re supposed to scream in agony, sometimes you’re supposed to stay silent. How are we supposed to know? I mean, unless they use ball-gags and stuff.

Despotic love

I suppose I can wait to watch the cookery programme – I’ve become quite good at coping with deferred gratification. Thank goodness it’s only Raoul this time, anyway. Sometimes she invites all the guys round to watch a big game and I’m rushed off my feet fetching and carrying beers, snacks and condoms. She must find it quite exhausting too.

It’s funny how the simple act of having electrodes attached to your genitals can change your whole perspective on things.

I know she’s a busy woman, but I really think she could cane her own husband. And detention is a very special time in any relationship.

She works hard for her money (so he’d better treat her right).

But with dignity. Always with dignity.

Clean sweep

A few weeks ago, I published ‘Advice to a novice domme‘ in which, among many other wise and practical ideas, I humbly suggested that dommes should not “assign actual housework tasks to ‘sissy maids’ because they’ll fuck them up and might actually damage your stuff. All they want to do is mince around with a feather duster and then get spanked, anyway”.

It occurs to me that several sissy maids might be offended, hurt and humiliated by this suggestion. That’s absolutely fine, of course, no one cares about a few sulky sissies. I’m sure your mistress can wipe that frown off your face, with a few well-aimed slaps from her palm. And for those who have a humiliation kink, perhaps you should even send me some session fees as compensation, hmm sissy?

But if there are still any sissies out there stamping their little feet, balling their fists together and having squeaky tantrums, here is some actual proof (all images certified collected at random from the Internet, so I think we can agree their accuracy is unquestionable) that you’re all completely useless.

Proud to present: cleaning sissies, on the job

A little dishwashing mop, sissy? For that task? Only… I don’t see any dishes there, do you? Oh – and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a mop quite so pristine…. I’d have thought that if you’ve been working hard using it, it would have been a little discoloured by now? That lady behind you looks quite cross, doesn’t she? But then maybe that’s what you’re hoping for.

Good idea sissy. Nothing worse than a dusty TV-cabinet. Let’s fluff that dust up so it settles somewhere else.

Dusting the floor, sissy? OK, well, whatever.

Not a shoe brush. And you’re out of uniform, sissy, you bad girl.

Also not a shoe brush. So not a shoe brush. What is that thing? Also, sissy, the technique seems to involve your domme standing on one (high-heeled) foot, holding her other foot off the ground, while you flick at the shoe with… with that. She’s going to be almost as uncomfortable as you are. Well: until she decides to make you more uncomfortable still, I suppose.

Uh-huh. Might take quite a while to get the whole house done. Still… I expect you’re paying by the hour, so that’s not her problem.

I don’t even want to think about what’s going on here, but I suspect it’s not conducive to really effective cleaning.

That’s right, sissy. Mistress is going to be very pleased with you when she looks out through the sparkly clean, erm… lower half of each of her ground floor windows. Dommes never use the top halves of windows; it’s a well-known fact.

What is it with sissy maids and feather dusters?

So… let me make sure I understand. You’ve got the brush from a dustpan and brush set and you’re placing a few bristles from it against the floor? Right. And this is intended to accomplish what, exactly? I mean in cleaning terms, rather than sexual gratification, obviously.

Oh good: another feather duster. And… what are you planning to clean with that, sissy? The floor? That mat? I don’t think so. Not ‘cleaning’ cleaning.

…and just for avoidance of doubt: if actually instructed to use an inappropriate cleaning implement, then you’d better bend your head down and get on it it, hadn’t you, hmm? That pert little mouth is for scouring and sponging the kitchen floor, not for answering back, girl! And don’t you forget it.

Now: for any sissy maid still offended… Just stop crying, girl, you’re just smudging your make-up and making yourself look even more ridiculous than usual, OK? Don’t worry: no one’s going to take your feather duster away. Or your frillies. Goodness: what a fuss!

Heaven-sent

… and very nice too*

All the ways I could be a better husband? Wow. I think I’m going to need two days locked in the stocks, at least.

What a lot of fuss, about a routine operation. You’d think I was the first person whose tonsils she’d removed. I… hang on… didn’t I have my tonsils out when I was a teenager?

Oh, don’t worry: I’ll keep looking. I might cry a little, if that’s OK.

She insists on her tea being just the way she likes it. Also the ironing, bed corners, washing up, bookshelves, underwear drawer, bath, breakfast, ornaments, cushions, carpets, gin & tonic, shoes, lawn, floor tiles, nail polish, ….

The splendidly-named Miss Hunter, on whose wall I would love to end up as a trophy.

Many dommes find the things we submissives do disgusting. That’s why they so enjoy hitting us.

* but if anyone happens to be able to locate the scene in the British sitcom Game On (rather a lovely ‘situation’: sad male failures share flat with goddess) in which Samantha Janus rushes around putting her make-up on to this song, I’d be most grateful.

Category: housework