Category: lady in red

Owning him

When your Mistress is a perfect 10, it’s only fair that you have to be graded too.
And we don’t ‘bob’ so much as immerse and hold down.

Oh, if there is one Lady I’d love to see again, it is Lady Sophia Black. She lit our lives up like a, like a… hmm… comet? No, something brighter. Like a flamethrower, then retired too soon, too too soon.

She’s focused on what’s important in the relationship and you should be too.
That’s an interesting question – let me ask you one in return, preferably on my knees, with my paws up like a begging dog.
He has an excellent retirement plan and one day she might tell him what it is.
She also likes to play “this little piggie”, especially the bit about shrieking all the way home.

An unfair crack of the whip

It’s the best kind.

Oh, I don’t know. He looks enviably lucky to me.
She’s quite wrong about that: Mark will derive no sexual pleasure at all from spanking you. He’s actually rather gentle and vanilla when it comes to sex, despite his aggressive and violent persona.
I think it shows a lack of ambition on her part, assuming you’ve fucked up like that. My SO wants me to excel in my work, and is never satisfied with anything other than a perfect 10 on all my tasks. One day perhaps I’ll even manage it.
Their service takes care of the basic everyday money extraction aspects of findomme, leaving ladies to concentrate on what they’re really good at: spending it.
Oh well, as long as I’m not the only one dressed like that. Don’t you just hate it when you turn up to some event and you’re the only one naked except for your collar and leash? I know I do.

True love’s first slap

Yes, it’s Valentine’s Day, a day when humiliation freaks worldwide will rush down to the letterbox in the morning, to revel deliciously in the proof that once again, not a single one of the three billion females in the world has the slightest romantic interest in any of us.

Actually, I did once receive a Valentine card, from this girl I really fancied at school and didn’t have the courage to tell of my feelings for her, but it turned out it she had sent it to the wrong address and it was intended for someone else.  Goodness, how everyone laughed and laughed when that little mix-up was revealed in class, after I got down on my knees to confess my long-standing love for her.  I hope she wasn’t too humiliated by her error being exposed so publicly, poor thing.

I do have a couple of Valentine-themed captions, as it happens, but not a
full set of five, so I thought I’d… what’s that, readers?  You say you don’t
give a flying fuck whether I creatively theme the blog or not?  That you
just want to masturbate to images of pretty ladies saying humiliating
or vaguely menacing things, so why don’t I shut the fuck up and get on
with it?

Oh.  OK then.

 

You could cavil at the poor quality of the photo, but this is Mistress Ardenne so even a blurry photo is more beautiful than 99.999999999999% of things on the planet.  Long retired, I’m sure, so don’t even ask, OK?

 

 

Wow. No time for second thoughts – let’s tie the knot!
 
 

My SO says the same: apparently it’s ‘easier’ to leave me locked up.  Personally, I’ve never had any real difficulties masturbating (except when my penis is locked in a tube, or I’m in tight bondage or agonising pain, that is) so I don’t really see why that should be but I don’t doubt she’s right.  For one thing ‘doubting she’s right’ is #255 on the list of forbidden activities, just 243 places below masturbation itself.




Selecting honesty level two would have got you “Oh… it’s all right, I suppose. A bit below average but I’ve seen worse.”




Funny how it still feels just like that very first date you went on together.  Some relationships are like that, but it’s very rare.




When life gives you lemons…

 …strap him down to a table, clip his eyelids open and squeeze the juice into them.

Too unpleasant for you?  Then you definitely will not want to watch this clip of women (as the title indicates) brutally torturing men to death. 

No, seriously, you won’t.  That clip is not some kind of happy S&M consensual game, nor are the terrified victims saved at the last minute from the evil torturers (don’t you hate it when that happens in mainstream movies?).  It is possibly the most unpleasant, brutal mainstream clip I have ever seen.  Very nasty stuff.

I mean, who could possibly enjoy that sort of thing?  You’d have to be a truly sick weirdo to get any kind of sexual pleasure from that. Simply horrible, it is.  Vile.

Mmmm.

Anyway, on we go!

 

Some poor sod’s going to have to clean that up, you know.


 

 

‘Non-lethal’ is how I like my femdom play.

 

 

Yes, let’s hope Ellie doesn’t take it out on them.  She’d got a terrible temper, you know.

 

 

 

The people have spoken… the ones wanking online, anyway, and that’s good enough for her.

 

 

 

 

Thank goodness none of that applies to any of us, eh readers?  Imagine the (fully justified) self-loathing you’d have to feel to get off on something like this.


Blowing my mind, stealing my heart

 Somebody help me ‘fore I fall apart.


Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal to feel a little nervous.



Remarkably, I understand she got 100% in all her exams without even turning up.  And now works in a profession where she earns more than £500/hour working from home.  It just shows the value of adopting the right educational techniques.




Don’t get her wrong – she’d be perfectly happy to lace or unlace her own boots.  But when there are men queuing up to pay for the privilege, why would she?

“…his eyes widened as she slowly, deliberately trailed her fingers all the way up his long… hard knitting needle, her fingertip lingering for a second at the top.  “It’s a number 7” he blurted out awkwardly, feeling the need to respond in some way to this sudden intimate contact.  “At least” she murmured in reply, nodding gently, thoughtfully.  Then she made a decision and looked straight into his startled eyes.  “I want you to make me something stylish but practical”, she breathed with an urgency that surprised even her.  “I want you to make it now!”.  She glanced into his knitting bag, where the multicoloured balls of wool nestled quietly, expectantly.  A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, as she…”




The ‘arrogant dismissive domme’ thing comes naturally to some.





Blonde ambition

In trying to come up with that title, I was thinking of ‘Blonde justice’ and had a sneaking suspicion I’d used it before, so I searched and found… oh dear, four posts all called ‘Blonde justice’. Is the blog really so forgettable, even for me?  Maybe been going too long… but I’ve still got another 2772 captioned images unposted and I write more all the time, so I’m afraid we’re just going to have to carry on.

Anyway, blonde post.  Yes, of course Mistress Eleise is in it.  Did you really need to ask?

Obviously, it’s going to be very painful – it often is when a relationship ends – but don’t worry: one day she’ll look back on it and laugh.  Possibly even next Thursday, when you come home with that funny bruised face.

 

 

Why should he mind?  Why should she care if he does?

 

 

 

She’ll freely admit she’s a trophy wife.  First prize in the ‘deluded and regretful old fool’ category.

 

I hate hypothetical questions.  Strap me to the gurney and let me see the scalpels, then it will feel more like a real choice, that’s what I say.  Assuming I’m still allowed to choose.

 

If you keep it up long enough, even an obese 220-pound man can easily lose as much as…well, 220 pounds, eventually.  By weight, I mean. A lot more pounds sterling, obviously but who’s counting?

 

Told you.  She’s magnificent.  What an extraordinary honour and pleasure (and pain) it was for me to session with her a few times, in Paris some years ago.

 

 

In fact… shall we have another Mistress Eleise image?  I say we should and it is my blog, after all.

 

She’s laughing inside.



She looked like something special

 …the kind who’d understand.


Perhaps she’ll bring you a treat.




Where there’s a will – and strong pelvic muscles, restraints and plenty of lube – there’s a way.


Some valuable soft skills there, to complement the hard skill set many of the senior staff already have.



If men’s libbers feel oppressed, they’ve got no one to blame but themselves.




Raoul has a gay friend!  Sign of the times.  Maybe he’s moving on from those ridiculous old-fashioned attitudes.


Correct me if I’m wrong…

 … or if I’m right, for that matter.

Another year, more of the same.  Here we go.

Three and a half men, then.



Some people have complicated femdom fantasies.  Others just have simple femdom realities.



Here – have you heard this one?  Why did the blonde in charge of the Sexist Detention Centre press the red button in her office?  To give all the inmates a series of agonising electric shocks!  OK, you might not think it funny but, believe me, she does.



She’s not really a believer in unisex fashion, you see.




Don’t get her wrong – she’s prepared to accept there’s plenty of room for improvement in the relationship.  Just not in anything she does.



Missgoverned

Just so there’s no misunderstanding.

 

 

 

Oh dear.  I hope she gets over the embarrassment quickly.

 

 

 

Don’t worry about the whip – her aim’s terrible when she’s a bit sloshed, so you should be fine.

 

 

 

Her colleague Tanya’s not quite so talkative – but don’t worry, she’ll look after you.

 

 

This just gets better and better – first bondage, now she’s phoning a sexy friend and by the sound of it roast turkey when you’ve finished!  And people worry about going off for bondage scenes with complete strangers.


 

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.