A kiss on the boot

 …may be quite deferential.  But diamonds


Double what he himself would normally have to pay, that is.  So about six times the going rate for a ‘normal’ client.  But he does get to keep the shoes and ‘normal’ clients don’t get to keep the lady, so I guess he’s ahead.




Very directly.  She’d appreciate short and truthful answers too and frankly you are likely to be gasping and crying out too much to think of (still less articulate) anything complicated.

I think she should just get on with it.  A few little buzzes and he’ll almost certainly find that he agrees with her – on this and on everything.




Probably something to do with swimming. Maybe you can ask her about it later – but I’m sure you’ll both have better ideas for how to spend your wedding night than reliving old school memories.



I think the phrase he’s looking for is “Ma’am yes Ma’am!”.


The Garden of Earthly Delights

Obviously, anyone’s bound to feel a bit nervous before having a microchip inserted into their brains, but just ask any man who’s had it done – you’ll hear nothing but gratitude.
They’re quite smart, those ‘rate my date’ sites.  I tried sneakily entering a positive review about myself and I was automatically redirected to ratemywank.com. Where I built up quite a profile, actually, until my SO stopped all that nonsense.
One positive thing is that he has discovered he and his father-in-law have a lot in common, so that’s nice.

Mmm… edgy.  Let’s hope she doesn’t get too drunk this time.

Despite the general female-led tendency of this blog, I want to make clear that I think it is OK to have disagreements between husband and wife in marriage.   I disagreed with my SO once, very early on in our life together, and although it was painful – very painful, actually – I think we both found it to be a learning experience that made our marriage stronger.

Back-room girls

A true herstory from World War M.




Oh yeah, this lab did a lot of war work. I mean: I don’t
want to claim that our contribution was the same as those of the front line
troops, OK?  Those girls risked their
lives.  We were in a safe female-led
environment the whole time.
But scientists were important in the war too.  Men are physically stronger than women,
right?  So to win, we had to use our
other advantages like our superior intelligence, judgment, balance, wisdom, perception, creativity, social
skills, memory – all those things.
Quite early on, we’d been working on some basic male control
drugs?  Really crude compared to the kind
of stuff we have today, but with so many of the more committed femsupremacists
fighting at the front, the government was worried about all the males back home.  The more masculine ones were kept on
chain gangs, obviously, but the streets were full of all these supposedly
submissive males and I don’t think more than – oh 25%? – of them were really
believers in male inferiority, you know? 
Fifth columnists, even when all dressed in frillies.  It wasn’t like it is today.  So we
were developing these basic obedience drugs: sissy pills, IQ reduction
treatments, willpower suppressants, that kind of thing.  But it was a bit hit and miss – and there
were side-effects.  You’d think it wouldn’t
be a problem for a guy to be ‘too obedient’ but we had cases whose egos had
been too smooshed by the chemical cosh for them even to chew food without an
order from a woman. Kind of funny, but we needed guys working in the factories
and fields to support the girls fighting patriarchy at the front.  Can’t do that with a wimp who’s too scared to
eat.
So the development of the brain clamp was
super-important.  We didn’t invent it
here, but we did all the initial testing. 
We’d been working on pain receptors in male brains, so we were the
obvious lab to try out the first batch of implants.  
And at first, you know, everyone thought it wasn’t
working?  The first set of test subjects screamed
continuously because their clamps just fired up those pain receptors and kept
going.  The engineers were kind of
pissed, because they’d done a lot of work to ensure all it would do was pick up
sexist and derogatory thoughts about women. I guess we’d expected we’d see them
being shocked occasionally, then they’d get it under control within a few
hours?  Took us a while to realise that
men think those things, like, all the time.  We didn’t know that, back then.  There were lots of things we didn’t know about men, because we hadn’t really been able to experiment on them properly, under the patriarchy.  I guess if women had understood more about what men were really thinking, we wouldn’t have had all that feminist nonsense about trying to build a society based on equality between the sexes.  We know better now.
So, yeah, that first batch, we turned the clamps off after a few
hours because we thought there must be something wrong with them.  Pulled out the implants and the
engineers went off to recalibrate.  Then
strapped the males back down again, shoved those implants back in – and it was
just the same.  Room full of guys
screaming their heads off.  I guess
talking about it now, that sounds like quite a turn-on but the war wasn’t going
too well at this point, so we were too focused on the work to enjoy it.   
The engineers were going crazy trying to work it out.  What was going wrong with the implants?  It’s hard to understand, now – I mean, really, which was more likely?  That something was wrong with a piece of female-designed technology or that something was wrong with the entire male population of the planet? Nowadays, we’d obviously go straight to the second of those hypotheses, but we weren’t as knowledgeable then.  Femsuprem science was just getting started and we were still throwing off the shackles of the patriarchal past, and beginning to think about ways to develop new shackles for the matriarchal future.  Metaphorically, I mean: I’m not talking about actual shackles, you understand.  Other labs were developing those.
It was Karen who first suggested just leaving them on to see
what happens.  Karen Lucysdaughter – you
know?  She got the Nobel Prize for it
later.  She put a batch of brain-clamped
guys into a secure facility and hooked them up to, like, intravenous feeds and
stuff and left them to scream.  It went on
for days.  Most of us gave up.  To be honest, we thought Karen was just getting revenge.  Most of the test subjects were former senior scientists and lab administrators and Karen had been an intern – obviously, she had some issues she wanted to work out.  But it turned out she was doing science down there: making notes on a little tablet while these guys just shrieked and struggled
in agony hour after hour, day after day.  She wasn’t just waiting.  She’d done her PhD on male screams, so she was taking careful notes on that.  She wrote the standard textbook on it,
later.  There’s all kinds of different screams
and it turns out you can tell a lot about what a guy’s going through from the
modulation and the frequency of the screaming, you know?  Not just the loudness, although that’s important too, obviously.  Pretty interesting stuff.
Anyway, on about day 4 she got the breakthrough she’d been
looking for. One of the guys stopped screaming. 
And she knew immediately he hadn’t – like – died, you know, ‘cos he was whimpering
and pleading and all that.  But for a
moment there he wasn’t thinking sexist thoughts, so the clamp was giving his
pain receptors a rest.  And Karen
went over to him and when he saw her, I guess he must have thought something bad,
because he started right up again. But over the course of the next day or so he
and a couple of the other subjects started to have moments not being in
agony.  They were learning not to think
patriarchal thoughts!  The brain clamps had
been working just fine all along; it just takes a lot more pain to persuade men
to start thinking the right thoughts than anyone had ever believed possible.  Except for Karen – she’s such a visionary. 
Matter of fact, the Nobel Prize committee asked just last year about the guy. The first successfully brain-clamped male.  They have a museum in Stockholm with memorabilia relating to the prizewinners, apparently, and they wanted to put him on display.  I don’t know if they were going to keep him as a live specimen or have him stuffed or whatever but it didn’t matter in the end, because unfortunately the lab had sold him off a couple of years before.  We tend to have more males than we need, because you often have to use fresh ones for the experiments, so we have a clear-out from time to time: sell the less damaged ones at bargain prices.  Maybe he’s still out there – some lucky girl owns a piece of living female supremacist herstory, and doesn’t even know it, I guess.
Anyway: you know the rest. 
Brain clamps went into full production. 
It’s hard to imagine the modern world without them, really, isn’t
it?  Imagine if men could just think
disobedient or disrespectful thoughts without agony.  The first production batches went straight to
the front, of course.  They didn’t bother
too much with controlled experimental conditions there: captured enemy soldiers
got the implant and were typically just left to work it out for
themselves.  If they managed to get their
thoughts straight before dying of starvation and stress, they’d get a collar
and a lock on their cock (those who hadn’t had their trophies taken) and sent
to the rear. Those who never really got it… well.  They actually tried extracting and re-using
the implants at first, but pretty soon as the factories started churning them
out by the millions, it was cheaper not to bother.
Of course, nowadays with boys brought up to be obedient,
they don’t usually suffer so much when they first get clamped.  But the older guys – wow, some of them never
get it.  You know, we’ve had an experiment
running since the war, to see how long it would take some of these sexists to
start thinking straight?  There’s guys
down there who’ve been clamped for over a decade and still can’t get through a
single waking hour without a jolt.  Of
course, they’re very polite and obedient to us when they get a chance to speak –
I guess you would be after ten years strapped in agony to a gurney – asking for
a merciful death and stuff.  But you can’t
hide your thoughts from the clamp, so we can tell it’s all just a sham.  You’d think they’d get wise – start to
recognise sexist thoughts forming and learn to replace them with healthier,
obedient ideas instead.
I guess they’re just too stupid to do that.  But I suppose we shouldn’t mind that males
are stupid, should we?  
After all: that’s
why we won.
 
Girls!  Inspired by this story?  Ever wondered where the ordinary male-control gadgets and torture items you use every day got started?  Try visiting the R&D section of your local male control facility and prepare to be amazed.  And the work goes on.  Female supremacist science is just getting started – we’re just scratching the surface of how we can put the laws of Mother Nature to work in developing new ways of oppressing males.  There is so much out there yet to be discovered!  Maybe you can be part of the continuing story – think about a career in science.  Because men deserve so, so much more.
 Readers interested in how science can help make our world a less pleasant, more terrifying, place may want to check out the stories about Serena and Alice, from this blog’s very early days.  Torture porn with a scientific bent – but also a rather sweet love story running through them, as you’ll see.

Captivating ladies




Actually, unlike many men with small penises, I don’t obsess about it and feel inadequate and ashamed about its size.  My feelings of inadequacy and shame are much more broadly-based than that.










It’s just to redress the balance.  Men are no good at empathy.  Not like women: my SO always knows when I’m hurting badly, no matter how much I try to conceal it.
It’s much shorter than my punishment song – which has seventeen verses.  Even though I’ve never considered myself a good singer, my SO usually enjoys it so much she ‘asks’ for an encore.  Sometimes two.
Lucky bastard – he’s going to be experiencing his top sexual fantasy for the rest of his life.
The gentlemen in the picture likes to claim he is ‘very experienced in BDSM’ but actually, he’s about to discover there’s a lot more to it than he had ever imagined.

 

People and things

These things, for example.


Just for once, the linked music video is related.


Loosely, anyway.

A stage magician tried to hypnotise me once, but he failed completely.  I am one of those very rare people who just have too much willpower, he told me!  I tried to go back again the next night, to see if he wanted another go, but my wife said I had to stay at home and do chores, so that was that.

Yeah.  Why not?

Yes Ma’am.

Yes Ma’am.  Again.






Actually, I’m not that worried.  I was told once by a girl I trust that my penis is microscopic.  No way any sniper’s hitting that!


Lap of honour



She uses a system of rewards and penalties.  Some days, when you’ve done particularly well, you’re rewarded by not being penalised.

I wasn’t a service oriented submissive when I started out, but my SO sent me on an orientation course.
The other things are negotiable.  Just go ahead and negotiate – but you do have to be in position first, OK?



In any marriage, learning when to communicate – and when to stay silent – is as important as learning how.







I find these networking sites can really eat up my time.  I had fifteen ironing assignments on Slavr last week, for example – took me hours to get all that done – and then there were eight notifcations waiting for me on Spankr.  I thought all this technology was supposed to give us all more free time?


New year, same old nonsense

Welcome back. Hope you enjoyed the extra captions over the 12 days (or possibly the first 11 days if you’ve been reading the comments sections too) of Christmas. 

Back to normal now, though – twice a week is all you get.  Ooh-er, sounds bit rude!

They practice mindfulness too.  That involves thinking very very hard about what’s about to happen when your skin won’t stretch any further.




Might take quite a while to do penance for all of the sins during those five years of freedom.  Still – there’s the rest of your life.

 


I’m a member of their frequent shriekers’ club.
 
 

 

Of course, it wasn’t like that when she bought the house.  There was no flowering bush behind the gimp feature – in fact, the garden was mostly just gimps all over.  Much more colourful this way.
 
 

 

 
 
 

 

Or – on  most occasions – participate.

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