Category: male maid

Terror the human form divine

A family friend was branded by a Canadian domme.  He kicked up a bit of a fuss when she started on the French translation, but ‘la loi c’est la loi’, I guess. 

 

 

He’s sulky because when they have guests around he’s usually allowed to stay up.  But after she had to deal with a tantrum at their last dinner party, she’s decided not to risk it.

 

 

 

 

Don’t forget to look super-relaxed.




A few hours spent torturing a male doesn’t make a lesbian relationship any less vanilla, any more than cuddling together in front of the TV with a box of chocolates makes them choco-fetishists. 


 

 

I’m sure you don’t mind – you married her for her personality, not her looks, right?  And she certainly has a very strong personality.

 

 

 

 

A total portrait with no omissions

 The divine Ms Harry, for contemplation and worship.

 

Sometimes she’s in the mood for screaming and frantic pleading but right now she’s trying to enjoy her book, so just keep it down, hmm?

 

 

 

She can show you both heaven and hell – as, to be fair, can the priest but in a very different way.

See?  Cruella’s not all about bleak post-industrial settings.  This photo-shoot’s in a bleak pre-industrial setting and a refreshing change it is too.

 

 

Don’t you just hate being the third one on a date?  I do – but she doesn’t seem to care.

 

 

 

Go on – not many kinksters get to live out their fantasies in reality.

 

Mine’s ‘maggot’, by a curious coincidence.  But can readers of this blog keep that to themselves, please?  You can’t be too careful these days.  Fortunately my SO is the only one who knows the really important passwords, like the one for our bank account.  I wonder what these two need yours for? Still… best not to argue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beauty and some beasts

 

In some great literature, the characters form lasting attachments. In snip-lit, it’s usually the opposite.

 

 

It’s good that he’s supporting her artistic development – and she his.

 


Trevor’s the one on the left.  You might think, looking at him, that he’s made quite a few ‘noble gestures’ lately, but in fact it’s just that his work shift on the treadmill happened to coincide with Madame Sarka’s turn to be overseer.



Or it might not.  It’s really not going to affect things either way, to be honest.



I think it’s horrible when people abuse riding crops by using them on horses.


 

 

 

 

 

 

Contemptuous liaisons

 

Looks like only one person in this relationship is making any effort.  That’s not a formula for long-term happiness.


 

 

Why are so many women so imprecise when it comes to numbers?  They say things like “only for a few hours” , “in a few weeks’ time”, “a few dozen, and then maybe the same on your thighs”…  when did ‘few’ start to have such painful connotations?

 

 

 

She’s a perfectionist.  I hope you are, too.

 

 

 

The teddy bear is only a temporary expedient while she buys you a blow-up sex doll.  She’s just trying to choose between the ‘Sven’ and ‘Muscle Man’ models.

 


She makes a compelling argument, you have to admit.


 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

Unforced feminisation

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Whatever she likes, whenever she says

 

Honestly, imagining bothering her about a little thing like that.

 

 

Oh well…wouldn’t want to disappoint Suzie, would we? 

 



Obviously, you are allowed to have opinions, even as her husband, as long as they’re the right ones.


…unless she’d rather I made her a nice cup of tea?  No?  Sure?  OK, cattle prod it is, then.



Like most men in a female-led relationship, I learnt about pre-menstrual tension quite early on.  Also post-menstrual tetchiness and during-menstrual extreme violence.



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.

Head under heels

That’s the way I fell in love, many years and almost as many orgasms ago…


It’s important to fight back against the stereotypes.  Wear the t-shirt, use the hashtag, carry the pliers.


Well, it’s more romantic than stealing them from clotheslines.



It’s best not to think about it too much.  Thinking generally isn’t a sissy maid’s strong point anyway.






I’ve never really understood knitwear fetishism, although enforced knitting as an alternative to line-writing has its attractions.



Thank goodness for that. Lots of vanilla escorts wouldn’t have been so in tune with your needs, you know, might have just gone ahead and given you a blow job anyway.  She’s obviously very special.