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.
I’m pretty sure I’ve featured this video before but some things are worth more than others and Emma Peel is priceless. Any benighted youngish ‘readers’ who think that the Avengers are superheroes or that Diana Rigg is mainly known for playing Lady Olenna Tyrell might want to educate themselves, or submit to someone who will educate them properly.
Post is (regrettably) unrelated as I just don’t have captioned images of the divine Ms Rigg. Maybe I should.
I want a girl with a mind like a diamond.
Relationships are based on give and take. Like, how about this time you do what she wants without question or complaint and then on another occasion, maybe it’ll be her turn to decide what you do, and so on.
Who uses a machete to cut through red tape
He’s a regular customer – has a loyalty card. But then they take disloyalty rather badly, so it’s best to be loyal.
She’s touring the facility and picking up slack
Many of her slaves would dispute the idea that her dog is obedient – but then they have high standards of obedience. Obviously, the dog gets a bit more latitude to interpret her commands than they do.
I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity
Hmmm. $8000 might sound a lot, but with the cost of medical care in the US, you might not come out much ahead. Better check what it is she actually wants.
I want a girl who knows what’s best
I want a girl with shoes that cut, and eyes that burn like cigarettes
In the event, Mistress didn’t see a leopard (maybe they don’t eat maggots?) but she did see a pack of hyenas making a kill and that was pretty special, so she was happy enough.
Oh my goodness, Lady Sophia Black was a wonderful, wonderful domme….
Delightful, curvy shapes. It’s another science fiction special. In the future, it seems, captions will be much longer and wordier than in the CtD posts we know today.
Still having some problems with my excessively strict (oo-er) spam filter. I’ve approved all the requests, so if you requested, try again (preferably from the same IP address). To request access, just try posting something and if it blocks you, you can put a little message to show you’re not spam – try avoiding words like casino, bitcoin or references to making money fast, yeah? It’s not that hard to demonstrate that you’re human – I’ve been getting away with it all my life. It shouldn’t keep on rejecting you, but if it does… well, you should be used to that by now, loser, right?
I don’t understand why the Cylons didn’t just let Number 6 handle the whole thing – there’d have been no need to nuke humanity and render their worlds deserted, radioactive wastelands like that. OK, maybe just a little nuking, just to show how deliciously strict she could be…
It’s going to take a while for her to become accustomed to the modern world – and just a little time longer to subdue it.
The Themiscyran occupation will be just as oppressive and brutal, but a lot more fun.
One small step for her, end of the world for mankind.
When her giant, heavily-armed spaceship appeared in the skies above Earth, authorities worried that everyone would panic, but fortunately only half the population is panicking and that’s fine – it’s easily manageable with her help.
You know, if asked to choose the greatest TV science fiction goddess, I would be torn between Cylon Number 6, with her ethereal cold beauty and razor sharp machine mind, able to unleash fleets of killer robots, and Zev, part (liberated) sex slave, part savage cluster lizard, here seen in command of the greatest weapon of destruction in the two universes. Not that I’d get to decide you understand… but just being torn between the two of them would be honour enough for one brief agonising moment.
It’s a chance to start afresh, get things right and create the perfect society.
She needs to be able to trust you’ll always do as you’re told and for your part, you can trust her never to make you do anything she doesn’t want you to do, OK?
It’s a matter of priorities. Would you rather participate in ninety minutes of male shouting about some silly thing getting kicked around or go and watch the football?
It can be hard to find good masturbation gloves. My SO’s needed a new pair for months, but she can’t seem to find any she likes enough to buy. It must be very frustrating for her.
Dommes can get funny about dressing up as nazis. I mean, it’s just a bit of sexy cosplay, right? I asked one once – oh… what was her name? Mistress Hannah, was it? Or Esther or Miriam… one of those pretty names. Anyway, she flat-out refused and what’s worse, she didn’t at all respect the pain limits we’d agreed, which I think is very unprofessional.
Rule 3 is a wonderful rule. I often have the joy and privilege of having it imposed upon me.
It starts to get dark really early this time of year.
That damn flicker. Better try to get it under control, now you’re married.
She likes locks. She likes the look of them, she likes the sound they make gently clinking inside your trousers when you’re out together…
I got lost once, Followed the wrong pair of heels… suddenly looked up and gulp! The lady was very nice, though and took me home, where she got talking to my SO and one thing led to another and… well, let’s just say I didn’t get my whipping for being lost until quite late the following morning!
He’s going to be your friend too, now.
Dommes say the funniest things. One beautiful lady once tied me to the bed and giggled sexily in my ear about how much she’d like to take my cock in her mouth and nibble it gently before taking firm hold with her hand and pumping… pumping… The silly thing must have forgotten she’d locked me in a tight chastity restrainer! But I didn’t say anything to embarass her.
In the event, she did turn up, about an hour late, with some of her friends, all wearing tight boob tubes and leather miniskirts. They got drunk and started shouting mocking abuse at all the sad little physics spods and speccy chemistry nerds sharing the stage, and made them hand over their medals, which they referred to as ‘lunch money’.
Finally, a quick note about comments here on this blog. The anti-spam thingy (to use a technical term) seems to have been a bit too cautious of late, with some commenters being blocked. Sorry about that. If you are, I think you can request approval. I do see those (might take a day or two) and I’ll always approve any that aren’t obvious spam marketers. I think once you’re on the approved list you’re fine forever but I’m not sure – the anti-spam stuff keeps having to change to stay ahead. I’d love to just switch it off, but I see the list of spammy comments it has blocked and believe me, there are hundreds every week so that’s not an option.
Unpleasant, cruel trick or delightful, yummy treat? But…but… aren’t they the same thing?
My SO really likes to do Halloween properly. She creates a whole ‘spooky garden’ on the way up to the house, with ghostly lights and freakish moans from a lost soul shackled in a cage dangling by the front porch. It gets ever so cold, but it’s a fun way of doing something with the local community. And anyway, it’s only for one night, unless she, y’know, forgets, dear absent-minded thing that she is.
Apparently, he’s been very naughty and she’s going to have to be strict with him. Very strict.
I wonder what tastes better than cake?
An eternity of torture in Hell may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but compared to most dommes’ hourly rates, it’s remarkably affordable.
They say the place is haunted by the ghost of a housemaid, chained and on her knees, endlessly scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing away the stains on the floorboards that can never be fully erased… but that’s just Trevor, he’s one of the regulars.
Actually, she hates Halloween – it’s Amateur Night.
Hmm. I reckon this could be a turning point in their relationship.
Another science fiction special. I have a lot of unpublished captions for SF themes… also a lot for the Jane Austen style historical ones (that’s next Sunday – sorry, I know you don’t get to see a lot of tit and bum in those, but you don’t make the rules, maggot). It’s almost as if I’m avoiding the present day, as being something depressing or alarming… can’t imagine why.
Anyway, several tales of a brighter, if crueller, tomorrow.
The robot-looking ones are feeling particularly foolish – or would be if they could – having discovered they are entirely superflous to the conquest and enslavement of humanity. Well… the less intelligent half of it, anyway; they were planning to leave the other half alone as too scary to mess with.
Wow… that’s a scary thought. Imagine having to find your own food, instead of having it spooned out into your bowl by a kind owner.
Being tied up in the lassoo or truth, he can’t really protest that he isn’t a pervert. By the way: apparently, the lasso doesn’t force you to speak… but if you say nothing, you’d remain tied up by Lynda Carter forever. How awful that would be… unimaginable.
One advantage of defaulting to severe humiliation femdom play is there’ll be no awkwardness when she needs to regurgitate that food.
When she discovers there’s no female actually in charge, the solution will be obvious to her. Thank goodness.
I’ve done quite a few of these, just click on the science fiction tag. The guy making these calls seems to have had a hand in making almost all of the most significant genre movies of the past fifty years – quite an achievement.
The lady kindly helping her slave overcome his irrational fear of water, through his entirely rational fear of her, is the divine Heather.
…and while we are on the subject of divine favour, the fabulously beautiful goddess to the right is not Goddess Sophia (who is wonderful) but the also wonderful but sadly retired Lady Sophia Black.
She’s been working recently on trying get tears just right… the way they catch the light and sparkle as they drip down a screaming sitter’s cheeks can be so hard to capture, but she’s determined to nail it.
The process of booking her does involve almost as much subterfuge, of calling anonymous phone numbers when you reach a certain location, as a first visit to a domme, though.
Remarkably, the premium Net Nanny service continues to work even if you’re never allowed to access the Internet again. Think of it as a once-in-a-lifetime lifestyle choice.
They offer a deep cleaning service too.
Oh, it won’t take as long as that.
A teachable moment with Annie is a thing to be treasured.
It’s a very rewarding relationship. But there can also be penalties.
She hasn’t completely forgiven him you understand. The topic will come up again… but that’s enough for one day.
A bit thoughtless of Suzie, I’d say, leaving her gimp chained up for her friends to look after. She could have got one of those autofeeder things and saved them a lot of trouble. Or just a really big bucket for the food mixture.
Then you can get on with making dinner. They’re going to be hungry, I expect.
Ma’am!
I never know anything. Wouldn’t particularly want to, if I were there… I could just be.
…and an extra one, which I wrote in a particularly worshipful mood.
… although actually that’s not true (like many things on this blog), because obviously in session you can get away with calling her ‘Mistress’. Which was just as well for me, as I’d always assumed it was some variant of ‘El-ee-ssa’. I was granted the extraordinary privilege of visiting Mistress Eleise three or four times about ten years ago and I never did realise I was saying her name wrong in my head until I heard her say it in a video, quite recently. Fortunately, I never committed the unforgiveable sin of mispronouncing her name out loud, to her very feet (oh, those feet…). Not that it got me out of the slappings (and the mocking… oh, that mocking!) I so thoroughly deserved.
More science fiction: tales of terror, flesh-eating alien monsters, savage alternative realities and more… anything to relieve the moronic awfulness of this so-called ‘real world’.
You might protest that it’s only been a few weeks since the last science fiction special. And, unusually, assuming you’re a male, you’d be right. But (1) no one cares about your opinion, loser and (2) it’s Mistress Toyah’s birthday and that’s her lyric I’m using as a title so there you go. She wants to be free. I don’t.
Don’t worry, they’re very careful. They’ve even got a sign above the sink, warning people not to pour anything away that might acceidentally cause the destruction of the patriarchal order, so it’s all good.
I’ve heard Emilybots’ programming does not permit them to tie up or spank their owners, nor to order them around. Or at least ‘not yet’ so maybe there’s an update due? I do wish they wouldn’t release unfinished products like that.
Sometimes it’s best just to let women work their anger out, rather than apologising straight away.
Then you can get straight to work building that new society – hard work, but you’ll soon learn how to find joy in even the most backbreaking toil, knowing that it’s in service to a good cause.
Females are amazing… nurturing new life inside themselves. We males can only hope to be lucky enough to be accorded a minor role in that mysterious and beautiful process.
I quite liked Battlestar Galactica but there were some long, boring sequences featuring space battles and suchlike in which Ms Helfer did not appear, that I thought reflected poor judgement on the writers’ part. Fortunately, then the dominatrix movie happened, my brain melted down, and after that all previous memories are a bit hazy (and frankly, not much missed).
