Strict Instructions

Sissies aren’t good at lying. Or thinking hard.
They don’t go in for gratuitous cruelty at OWK – professional work should be paid for.
Actually, she’s had this one for years, it’s just that she rarely brings it out.
It does apply, but it’s still a girl who consents, on his behalf. It’s just easier that way.
Actually, having a proper slave to whom she could do whatever she liked ended up making Janice a much nicer person, oddly enough. Maybe it helped her divert her anger and frustations away from her friends and co-workers, I dunno.
Of course, male users in Europe will have to click a box giving permission for the use of their information under GDPR rules, when signing up. Important that everyone’s rights are protected.

Stinging rejoinders

Let her enjoy the moment, can’t you? For as long as it lasts.
I think a nun could be perfect and still not free from sin. Miss Kenworthy here is – quite literally – a perfect example.
Less is more, they say. And it’s better to give than receive, which I’ve certainly found to be true in my marriage.
Even without direct knowledge, obviously she does know in general terms how painful it is. She’s very knowledgable on that sort of thing.
Funny how ‘can’ means ‘must’ sometimes.
A day trip to remember.

And thank her afterwards

Nothing wrong with a bit of good old-fashioned pain, without all that fetishy nonsense, as my SO likes to say.
My VR settings show all women as fully clothed – even naked ones. Apparently that’s better for me.
Many girls find the sight of a penis and balls revolting – risible, even. But clip on a couple of heavy duty electrodes and most will see the erotic potential.
Actually ejaculating will be another €400 on top of that, by the way, so make sure you’ve got enough. Money, I mean, not semen: you’ve got far too much of that and need to keep it to yourself.
It’s a job with a lot of prospects – most of them quite demeaning and unpleasant.

The lovely ‘Victoria’ from Cruella, of course, with whom (in magazine form) I spent rather more time than was good for me back around 1989 or so.

Something weird with her stuff? The very idea!

Securely married

Impressive she became so good at it, if she was a late developer.

 

 

She’s just trying to build trust.

 

 

Some restaurants just do that automatically, but I always think that doesn’t show enough respect for the owners.  The lady might not want her gimp to stop being thirsty just yet. Admittedly, she can always just keep the mouth zipped, but it’s the principle of it.

 

It can be difficult.  I often feel a bit let down when I’ve paid for a humiliation session and the domme doesn’t tell me anything I haven’t been told by almost every woman I’ve ever met.  It’s not the dommes’ fault, poor things, I know they do their best.


 

She can be forgetful. Like that time she spent almost ten minutes trying to change the TV channel with his electric shock control. Good thing he was gagged or he’d have screamed the place down, because she was trying for Channel 84 – it has this rather good flower arranging competition; like Bake Off but for flowers.  Sounds a bit dull but she likes it.  She was ever so cross when she realised what a silly thing she’d done that caused her to miss the first ten minutes.

 

 

 

 

 

Just the way she likes it

  and no other way.  Ever.

Don’t worry, she’s a very good shot.  She’ll hit exactly what she’s aiming at, nothing else.  


Respect doesn’t have to be mutual to be heartfelt.



I hope he’s appropriately grateful for her trusting, easygoing nature.  I think things might get quite difficult for him if she loses that.




Oh dear.  I hope she doesn’t feel too bad about letting her friend down like that.






I’m sure she’ll say yes.  She’s a very kind person and it wouldn’t hurt anyone to… well, you know what I mean.  She’s not going to say no to her girlfriend, is she?  That would be mean.








Forbidding ladies

Don’t worry.  One day you’ll no longer be a valuable asset.


 

 

You can still walk away.  For that to happen, you’ll need a degree of conscious control over your limbs, so you might need to wait a few moments.

 

 

 

Some might find it bizarre that he’s the one paying her, really, but we don’t, do we?

 

The extraordinarily wonderful Lady Sophia Black.  But no link to her web site, as she’s retired.  Like Paltego said a couple of weeks ago, you mustn’t  leave it too late – see what you miss out on?

I’m beginning to think she might be taking in laundry from her friends, to earn a little money on the side, the sly old thing.



 

Sorry, readers, I couldn’t resist.  Well… I could have.  But I didn’t.

 

 

Rather tediously, just a quick word about anonymity.  I’m getting more and more comments on the blog, which is absolutely brilliant, and I do try to reply to them all. Blogger provides an option for whether to allow anonymous comments and with some trepidation I switched it on some years back and I have not regretted it.  Almost all comments are fun and kind, I have very, very few trolls and the occasional marketing blurb that escapes the spam filters can easily be deleted (or left up if I think it funny).

So, all good.  But it’s getting harder to reply to all of the anonymous comments as specifically as I’d like.  You are of course welcome to be as anonymous as you want.  Our society is at present sadly unappreciative of males who need to be dressed in little maid outfits and have their naughty bottoms smacked until they squeal (actually, most if not all males need that, but the majority don’t know it yet).  However, if you could try to be just a little less anonymous, that would make the comments section more fun, I think.  Two options.  One: you can set up a Google account in a fake name.  I mean, I myself am not actually called ‘Servitor’ in real life, startlingly enough.  I have a completely separate Windows log-in for naughty stuff and that’s where Servitor lives, when he’s not chained up in the doghouse outside.  Two, if you’re uncomfortable with that you can still be officially ‘Anonymous’ but put some name at the bottom of your comments.  Misses Zoe and Holly do that, so do many others.  Even femsup can manage it, and he’s a worthless, incompetent worm, as I think he’d be the first to admit.  No offence, ‘sup.  

Or don’t.  Up to you.  I won’t delete purely anonymous comments and I’ll keep trying to reply to them.  So there are neither rewards nor consequences for good behaviour in this regard, as this blog is not under proper female supervision.  Just a suggestion.

Goodness, that was a lot of words with no wanking material involved. And there you are, sitting all ready with your trousers down around your ankles. Go on, then, have an extra captioned image of a lovely lady, as a reward for getting this far.

 

 

Quite right.  Back to those chores.


 

Her whim be done

Reminds me of this amazing time I paid a pair of sex workers for the ‘two girls’ experience.  That was a lot of ironing, I can tell you – not to mention dealing with the mess they’d made of the sheets doing whatever they were doing while I was slaving away in the utility room.

 

 

 

Don’t worry – she’ll discover new interests when she’s married.  People do.

 

 

 

Women sometimes take a while to accustom themselves to just how much flogging males really need.  There’s no end to it, truth be told.

 

 

 

 

If they’re feeling kind maybe they won’t pass the ‘mad bitch’ comment on.

 

Do pay Cruella a visit.  Still going after all these years.

Mistress is going on a business trip in a few weeks leaving the two of you alone together, so perhaps that will provide an opportunity to resolve this nonsense once and for all?  Really talk it through, I mean.  Maybe even try to find a compromise.  She’s not going to risk a smacked bottom, after all.


 

Embarassingly accurate

I wonder if she’s jealous that she never gets to do the ironing any more?

 

 

 

The girls could probably handle more than ten reasons, but at that point the boys would run out of fingers so it’s probably best not to go there.

 

 

 

Don’t worry, he won’t be there all night.  She’s got a pillory in the bedroom too.  In fact, it’s the same model so he can just stagger there still wearing the cross-piece and it slots right in.


I was too worried about ending up with some embarrassing word tattooed on me in Chinese or Japanese so my SO kindly agreed to do it in English instead – just as well, as it turns out ‘wanker’ doesn’t translate directly.

 

 

 

You could try licking the tears back up.

 

 

 

Lip service


There are lots of things submissives know about that ‘ordinary people’ don’t.  It’s an odd thought, but most people have never been peed on, for instance (by an adult, anyway). 

Oh, well if David wants me serving canapes then of course we’d better go!  Sigh.  David this, David that… honestly, one day I’m really going to have to set some boundaries in this relationship. But not today. What do you think? I favour the one on the left…

She said stare at the ground, moron.
Erm… yeah, the ironing.  About that…

Brain damage play can be a lot of fun, but you need to make sure you pick short and simple words to use as safewords.


Not now, John

I’d forgotten this had femdommy bits – mildly suggestive only, I guess, and with that very special 80s pop video fuzziness, but I actually find that nostalgically erotic.*

Anyway, on with the 21st-century nonsense.






I always find a good beating really brings an apology home. And a bad beating, still more so.

It would be very odd to be the sort of guy who visits a sex worker who doesn’t tell him off and treat him with contempt and disdain.  A bit limiting, I’ve always thought.

Might be time for that safeword, actually.  Now what was it.  Pretty sure it wasn’t ‘mmph’, sadly for him.

She hates ironing, loves whipping.  That’s why this happening.

There’s a splendid phrase in British english “Face like a slapped arse”.  I think that’s one problem I don’t have – I have a face like a slapped face and an arse like a slapped arse.  When I’ve been lucky.





*I once caught the first 1 minute of “The Dominatrix sleeps tonight” on a BBC 2 pop programme, when I was, I dunno, sixteen or something. Oh. My. God. Then they stopped playing it.  Noooooo!!!  For years afterwards, every time I watched a music programme, or a bit of MTV when visiting somewhere (we didn’t have it), there was a little glow of hope I might see it again, or see more of it.  Never did until the Internet came along and then I was more jaded, of course.

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