Category: humiliation

Meek and feeble




He’s made a lifetime commitment.
My SO always says a bit of bruising on a man’s face can be quite attractive, anyway.
 Actually, the market is a bit limited as sissy husbands tend not to have much time for reading, or a lot of pocket money.
It’s all a bit academic (if you’ll pardon the pun), actually, because the school moved four years ago and there isn’t actually a Staircase B any more.  Still, that’s no excuse for not memorising the rule properly, is it, boy?


I think the correct response is “Mmmmphh!”


And when he pulls his frilly nylon panties right up tight

…He feels a dedicated follower of fashion

Oh yes he is (oh yes he is)

But you get bigger tips, so maybe it’s nearly even.

There!  Now who can still claim that men can’t take on front-line combat roles?
I’ve heard chlorinated water can be quite good for cuts and bleeding welts, so maybe if you ask nicely she’ll ask them to dip you in the pool when you’re done.


Yet oddly enough, he still gets it wrong. Men and housework… will they ever learn?

Sissy fights always end the same way, at least when wives are around to step in.

The record shows I took the blows

And did it Her way



Yum.  Has it really been a year? How time flies.

No problem.  I’ll just go and live out the remainder of my life nursing the ache at the core of my empty existence.  Bye.

Actually, if you save up enough of your pocket money, maybe you could… I mean, that would be OK, right?  About four months should do it, if you’re careful not to spend money on anything else.

Well, I think it’s outrageous. I mean, she wouldn’t wear a coat that had been made by killing and skinning a human being, would she?


Don’t forget to say gracias.  Mucho, mucho gracias, Senora

If you are not fully satisfied…






Hi, is that Mr Williams?
Oh, good afternoon, Mr Williams.  My name’s Debbie.  I’m with Trading Standards.
No, nothing wrong at all. 
Actually, I’ve got some quite good news for you. We’ve recently prosecuted a company
called A.G. Trading for fraud and as part of the settlement, they are paying
compensation to affected customers. You’re down as having purchased items
regularly from them over the last three years or so, and so you’re due for a
substantial payment.
A. G. Trading. No, I expect you won’t have heard of them,
they operated lots of different front companies.  Let’s see… you’ve made purchases from, erm…
“Mistress Alicia Amazon”, “Sheila’s Stinky Socks” and “Patricia the Piss
Queen”, is that right?
No?  Oh.
Are you sure?  “Harold
Williams, number 73 Park Road, Guildford”? 
Credit card number 5847 624 – Oh, OK.  So that is
you? Great.
Yes, it’s easy to forget these things.
So, the fraud concerned a number of different product lines
but all in the category of ‘used and worn items’, you see, Mr Williams.  Mostly lingerie, socks, shoes and boots –
that kind of thing.  Tampons and sanitary
towels too, but I don’t see any purchases like that on your record.
Anyway, the whole thing was a scam, I’m afraid.  The proprietor, Mr Patel, and his family
mostly just wore the items themselves. 
Some of them were shipped over from India – seems there’s quite a little
business going on pre-soiling items for masturbatory purposes out there.
There’s a whole village where it sounds like everyone’s walking around in
lingerie and high heels just to get the smells in.  And I’m afraid the only person pissing in
Patricia’s panties was Mr Patel’s cousin Rajesh.
Yes, it’s shocking isn’t it? 
Mr Patel made over £20 million out of it, before we got involved – can
you believe that?  All by exploiting
lonely, desperate sad little men.
No offence.
Anyway, if I can just run through the purchases we’ve got
here we can sort out your claim?
So: I’ve got nine pairs of worn panties, three of them
pissed in, a pair of scuffed trainers, two pairs of boots, eleven pairs of
socks, two bras and a sweat-stained top, is that right?  For a total expenditure of £3,540.  
Hmm?
No, you don’t have to produce the items, Mr Williams.  We have all the records here.  Anyway, some of these purchases go back over
three years. I don’t suppose you’d have kept them around all this time, would you?  That would be –
Have you?  Gosh.
Erm… even the items from ‘Patricia the Piss Queen’…?
Wow.
Oh-kay!
Anyway, that’s not necessary, Mr Williams.  Actually, you should probably dispose of the
items.  Especially those you ordered
from, erm, ‘Patricia’.  Our colleagues in
Health and Safety say they probably don’t meet EU hygiene standards.
Did you?  Oh, I voted
Remain myself.  Still, EU or no EU, it’s
probably not a good idea to keep that sort of thing around, Mr Williams. You might want to go for a health check.
Now, I’ll send you a claim form, and you just have to fill
it in and send it straight back and we’ll arrange for your compensation, as son
as we can.
Hmm?  Oh, it depends
on how much is recovered by the auditors. 
Should be at least a third of what you paid, though – over £1000, I
expect!  Quite a nice little windfall,
isn’t it?  You could go out and treat
yourself to something nice, like…
…erm…
Erm… well, anything you like, really.   Not my business to ask!
Now, Mr Williams, is there anything you’d like to ask me?
I’m sorry, what’s that?
Erm… no, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind, Mr
Williams.  I just… well, I just buy things for
my own use then I wash them or throw them away, you know? 
That’s what most people do.  Anyway, Trading Standards Officers aren’t allowed to conduct private business, so…
No – no problem at all! 
To be honest, you’re not the only person who’s asked since I started
this assignment! 
No, I’m not going to tell you what colour they are, Mr
Williams.  Goodbye now!
No, Mr Williams. 
That’s private.  Goodbye, Mr Williams!

Eugh!

Eugh eugh EUGH!

Dave, can you do my next call?  I’ve got to go and wash my face.
And can we PLEASE swap? Honestly, I’d so much rather deal with VAT fraud. You wouldn’t believe how much I’d like to deal with VAT fraud.

Little man you’ve had a busy day

… so it’s time for a spanking, then all tucked up for an early night with hands secured in your special mittens.  Don’t worry about wifey – she’ll find something to amuse herself with.

You’ll probably also find that you prefer not to watch sport on TV and you love going to bed early.  In fact, you’re going to discover a lot of things about the real you.  Isn’t that nice? 



I used to worry that women would discover I’m really rubbish in bed.  But so far, as luck would have it, the situation just hasn’t arisen, so that’s OK.







There are probably a few things bothering him just at the moment.  And there’ll be a few more, quite soon afterwards, I expect.


It’s nice they can sing while they’re working.  I mean, having to end another human’s life, it’s a serious and depressing business, isn’t it?  Good for them – keeping their spirits up like that.


Ah.. now that takes me back.  I remember the very first face-slap of my married life.  It was about – oooh, seven seconds after the last face-slap of my unmarried life, as I recall. 




She’ll tell me what she wants

(what she really really wants).

This is the magnificent Lady Sonia, of course.  I’m a several-times client and believe me this is not a joke.


I hope she hurries up. The other guys are waiting.  How come they don’t have to ask their wives for money?  Huh.  I suppose they must have saved out of their allowances.


The photo’s a bit deceptive.  It’s actually only a drop of a hundred feet or so. Much less scary than pissing your domme off, anyway – up you go.


Actually, the joke’s on her because I love the humiliation of being considered a loser, like that.  So I win!  Oh hang on…







Awww… isn’t she sweet?

Male In Name Only

Actually, although it’s a very specialised field of architecture, her fees are fairly low, not least because she doesn’t need to pay any assistants.

 
 
 
 

And they say castratrices have no feelings.

 
 
 
 

If he’s bad at sums, he might need a little thinking time in the corner to get the salary offer right.

 
 
 
 

I’d queue up…

 
 
 
 

I’ve always enjoyed a vigorously bisexual sex life: left or right hand, doesn’t matter to me.
 
 
 

 

Strap, shackle and crop

…it wakes me up every time.


…and don’t forget to say a Hail Mary.  She’s called Mary.

Very economical.

A good way for a sub to ensure he never says anything disrespectful is to cultivate a habit of only thinking devoutly respectful thoughts. It takes a lot of mental training, but it’s worth it. For a quicker solution, the same effect can be achieved just by beating the crap out of him if he speaks out of turn, or keeping him permanentlty gagged, so most dommes just go with one of those.  And really, who are you to argue?

This is Divine Mistress Heather, seen from one of her many very lovely angles.

She has ideas about how to conduct their weekly performance reviews too.

It’s a good thing neither of them’s gay.


Every lady shall be exalted

… and every husband and man shall be laid low.

You have to ask if you want the built-in sliding cucky drawer, though.  It costs extra.

Divorce can be painful.

My apologies to all of those submissive men out there who are highly skilled at housework, and don’t just use it as an excuse to flounce around humiliatingly in a little maid’s dress in session.  Sorry – I mean, both those submissive men…
Also quite a lot bigger.  They can still do SPH play, though. She’s kept his original one in a jar.

Biting’s not the worst of it. Bloody Rufus.  No friend of mine.




Cold as ice cream but still as sweet

…in the weekend mood and she’s feeling proud.

Maybe when she’s finished her croquet game.






I have a similar skill – I can usually tell within about 15 seconds of meeting a woman in  a public place whether she’s dominant.  I’m not going to give away my secret, but it’s to do with the way her shoes taste.






Do you suppose coming in your pants counts as contempt of court?






I could be a ball-boy…  It involves a lot of scurrying, I understand.  I’m good at scurrying.











The trouble with that Batman movie was that they just tried to do too much in one  movie.  They had Anne in a maid’s outfit, in a cocktail dress and dressed like that, for goodness sake. That would surely have been enough to sustain a two-hour movie, without having male characters or a plotline or any of that nonsense. Why do modern movie-makers always cram so much in?