Beneath contempt

… but I’m hoping to elevate myself to that level, through hard work and diligent attention to Her wishes.

Of course, bondage play is out of the question. But also unnecessary.

Yes.  A sympathy fuck would be just awful.  Don’t even think about it.

Don’t get frightened if your top brings out a long and detailed consent form, by the way. It’s the two-sentence versions that should worry you.
You can never have enough hats, gloves, slaves and shoes.
Travel Scrabble?


Suffering fools

Gladly or otherwise.









I never want to be more than two paces behind… for the rest of my life.







I hate having to disturb her when she’s working.  But I can’t just take money from her purse without permission, so…







Tony gets steak and chips… not fair, I say.  But then he does have a night of vigorous sexual activity ahead of him, so I suppose he needs the calories.







Sometimes they get a babysitter, but if they’re not going out until 7.30 or so, it’s easier just to put Paul to bed half an hour early.  I mean it’s not like anything can go wrong, with his mittens fastened to the sides of the cucky-drawer.







Aparently, a lot of condemned prisoners have women writing to them offering sex.  I don’t think that’s going to happen to him, though.

Love hurts

…in all sorts of unexpected ways. But today is the day for celebrating love, harking all the way back to St Valentine himself who found love while incarcerated behind the bars of a prison cell, before being tortured to death.  He remains an inspiration to us all.

You can’t run away from love.




She’s working hard for this marriage.  Maxim and Sven are probably going to be giving it their all too. So what about you?






Just once.






Love can also express itself through pain, terror, panic – especially when instruments of torture are involved.  It’s just part of how it feels, when it’s real, you know?




I had a friend who wanted to give his SO the ultimate gift, and secretly commissioned a designer leather firm to sort it out. Sadly, there was a mix-up and he ended up as about a fifth of a matching armchair and sofa set that was sold to some billionaire in Qatar with more money than taste. But she would have been quite touched by the gesture, had she ever known about it.

Her aim is true

Girls with guns! Babes with bazookas!  Ladies with lethal weaponry!  Women with weapons!  Femmes with firearms!  Honeys with hunting rifles!  Goddesses with…erm… guided missiles? 


That’s today’s theme, anyway.  We don’t always have a theme.  But today we have naming of parts.  Makes a change from daily cleaning.

When I look at her, I can barely think at all.

This is her rifle.  There are many like it, but this one is hers.

Or in a pie.

Hmmm.  If only men could think faster.  I’m sure I could come up with a plan.

It’s always irritating just hearing half of a phone conversation, isn’t it? 












 

Fun, fun, fun. In the sun, sun, sun.

After last Friday’s shivery Saturnalia, here are some sunny-themed captions to warm the hearts and bottoms of any males spending the long dark winter nights in an unheated kennel.

He could protest.  After all, you need to be careful not to spend too much time in the sun, if you have sensitive skin. On the other hand, you really don’t want to piss these two girls off if you have sensitive skin, either, come to think of it.






Go on.  What have you got to lose?

How about that?  She noticed you!

If it stings him on the penis, it could swell up to three times its normal size.  So, hey – six inches at last!  There’s that to look forward to.

That’s actually not the worst of it.  Just a few months ago, he congratulated the coffee boy at work for being the only person he knew who could make coffee the way he liked it, the way his wife did.  Plus, he’s about to be drowned, of course.  So it’s a bad day all round, really.

Not actually summer, but they are about to get nice and warm.  Twice a day, on a regular cycle.



Bring me to my knees

Mistress Chrissie always does.


Witchcraft? Oh what nonsens

Apparently, they’ve just discovered a new treatment that prevents testicular cancer altogether.  My SO has arranged for me to have it next week – wasn’t that thoughtful of her?
Could be the solution to our over-stretched prison service.  I happen to know several ladies in London who own cells, cages and suchlike – they should get in touch with the Home Office, offer to help out.
She does extras. Tip her enough and she’ll even fake laughing at your jokes.





She’s making mushroom surprise.






Fiction: Boundaries

[There’s a general disclaimer to the right over there about the factual accuracy of this blog (zero), but just for the avoidance of doubt – and because I would never, ever want to put someone off taking that step of contacting a pro-domme for the first time – let me just emphasise that this is a work of total fiction, and utter nonsense.  OK?  OK then.]

 





My new project?  Yes, sure.  I can talk about that.  Yes, it’s actually quite exciting.  In a way, what I’m trying to do here is push
the bounds of femdom – or rather push beyond the bounds that have traditionally
defined it, if you see what I mean.
So much of femdom is clichéd and stereotypical, don’t you think? Especially in the pro-domme space.  So
I’ve always tried to experiment, but until recently it was always still basically within those same
bounds.  But what I’ve been trying lately
with some of my more experienced clients is more… holistic, in a way.  Kind of edgy and experimental, but there’s a
thrill to it too.
An example? Sure. 
Erm… well, suppose I’ve got a client who’s into humiliation. He likes to
prance around in a maid’s costume and I’ll order him about and I’ll find fault
with everything he does and punish him, then send him home happy, OK?  And that’s fine – it’s a fun way to
play.  But what do you do when you’ve
played that same session a hundred times? 
Well – what about all of the time when he’s not in session?  How about playing the same game – very same game – there?   
So, I
got him to start telling me more about his life and his work and all of that,
and one day I took a stroll around the hard drive of his laptop while he was
tied down upstairs.  And I started
looking through this Powerpoint show he’d made on his computer for an important
client meeting the next day –



 – well, yes, it is a true story, actually.  
Anyway, I expect you’re thinking I’m going to say I put in
pictures of him in his maid’s outfit or whatever, to humiliate him in public?
And I was thinking of that, but then I thought – well, that’s really just
another femdom cliché, isn’t it?  Let’s
try something different!  So I just
fucked around with it a bit: putting in spelling mistakes, changing some of the
calculations so they didn’t add up.  Put
in the name of a different company, to make it look like he’d recycled a
presentation for someone else.  That kind
of thing.
So the next session I asked him all about it and he just
poured out this tale of humiliation and shame! 
He’d lost the contract and his boss had spent the whole afternoon
shouting at him in front of the whole office. 
I got a fit of the giggles to be honest, but he was quite upset.  So I pointed out that he’d been thoroughly
humiliated – at my hands – and wasn’t that something to be grateful for?
Hmm?  Was he
grateful?  Well, no.  Not at first. Actually he stormed off.  But when he got back in touch wheedling to
see me again, I made it a condition that this was something I was going to be
working into the play from now on, so if he wanted ever to see me again, he had
to accept it.
Yeah, sure, he still comes for sessions.  Not as often as he used to. He’s been sacked
from a couple of jobs now, so his income’s a lot less than it was. Plus, my
fees have gone up so it’s a lot less affordable all round.  But he still sessions when he can.
Anyway, that was the start. 
I do still play games in session. 
I’ll dress in leather and I’ll spank and I’ll dress the clients in
humiliating clothing and all the rest of it. 
But I insist on more commitment than that too.  So – yes, I can spank your bottom.  But I’m also going to insist that before our
next session you break your arm.  Yes,
you can clean out my toilet.  But you’re
also going to be getting an evening job cleaning public urinals. Yes, you can
have a bondage session.  But you can also
spend your summer holiday chained up in your back yard, eating raw
potatoes.  Yes, I can stomp on your
fingers. But I’m also going to run your foot over, in my car.  That kind of vibe.
Is he wearing a mask because he’s playing a role? Or because his face is marked with cigarette burns?  And if so – isn’t that just another role, really?

It can get pretty edgy. Like, last year I finally tried out
something I’ve wanted to do for a long time and got a client sent to
prison.  I helped him beat this other
client of mine with a baseball bat, and then he got arrested and sentenced to six
months.  If you can get into the right
headspace for it, that would be quite a trip, right?
Hmm? Is he what?
Oh, is he in the right headspace? I don’t know.  He’s only done four months, so far.  I’ll find out when he books his first session
after being released, I suppose.  When he
comes out I’m thinking of setting up a revenge beating – you know, reversing
the roles?  But don’t print that: it’s
going to be a surprise for both of them.
This is not a prison scene. There are no beautiful blonde warders spanking your bottom in prison – but there are people who might put glass into your food.  Are you ready for that?
Do they enjoy it? 
Hmm.  You know, I’m not sure
that’s really the right question. Sure, you can visit a pro-domme and get
slapped around and spat on, and that’s going to be fun, yeah?  But is it enough?  Really? Is it creative, is it radical, are
you pushing the bounds?  I sometimes
think life is nothing more than the experiences we have and the goal is to have
as many experiences and as varied an experiential journey as possible.  And if you’ve – say – find yourself naked
and alone in the back streets of Johannesburg without a wallet or a passport…
well, maybe you won’t ‘enjoy it’ as such.  In fact, you’ll probably hate every moment. 
But you’ll certainly have something to remember, won’t you?
Hmm?  Yeah, exactly
that. I’ve done it twice actually.  And I’ve tried it
in Caracas too, but that didn’t work out so well.
No, I don’t want to talk about that. It was a bit upsetting. I
shouldn’t have said anything.  Move on.
So you’d eat the ash from my cigarette in session… but would you lick out the public ashtray at the entrance to your office building?  You don’t know?  Then maybe we should find out.


Where can I take this next? OK – now that is a good question.  But I’m not going to give too much
away!  As you can imagine, surprise for
the clients is a big part of this whole scene. 
Plus I haven’t worked out all of the details, to be quite honest.  But one idea I’m really excited about is taking medical scene femdom
out there into the real world.  I’ve been
reading up on some medical web sites – and I’ll admit I’ve had a little help
from a client with medical qualifications too! –  and I think I’ve got a few ideas.  I’ve started a couple of things with one or two clients
already, by spiking their drinks, but they won’t have noticed anything yet, as it takes the symptoms a
while to emerge.  Actually, one of them
called me today to delay his next session, because he thought he had some kind
of cold coming on, but actually that’s the more serious symptoms just beginning to
manifest themselves.  He’ll notice soon that it’s not just a cold.  Anyway, we’ll
see.  They’re both going to experience a
lot of pain and some quite significant permanent damage to several major
organs, so… it’ll be quite intense.

And I’ve a few more things planned too, in the medical
area.  Like – lots of people with
incurable diseases think to themselves ‘why me?’, you know?  So how’s that going to feel if you know the
reason why you’ve got just six months to live, or whatever, hmm?  If you know who did that to you?  And how are they going to serve me, how are
they going to relate to me in those last few months?  
I don’t think it’ll be easy for either of us.
Brutal?  Yeah… yeah I  can’t argue with that.  It’s brutal.  But life’s brutal too, isn’t it? I mean, we can kid ourselves that everything’s fine, but with all the suffering that’s going on in the world, don’t we have a duty to be exploring where femdom fits into all of that?  I think my art – and yes it is an art – should mirror reality in all its horror.  You see pictures of those awful boats full of refugees, sinking in the Mediterranean and what do you do? You switch channels, you look away, maybe you give a donation on the way into your comfortable office the next day.  But me, I see a former foot-slave of mine called Simon, who took what he thought was going to be a holiday trip to Tunisia with me, and whose body was washed up onto a remote beach on Malta last month.  So don’t talk to me about brutality.  I’ve been there.

Sorry. That got a bit heavy.  But… this is my life, you know?  It’s what I live every day and it’s important that I keep on going, pushing the boundaries, seeing where I can take this thing I’ve dedicated my life to.
What’s that?  Yeah,
I’m still accepting new slaves.  I’m
quite choosy and I’m very particular about who I see.  But if any of your readers would like to meet
me in session they can go to the web site and respectfully – respectfully –
fill out the form.  Don’t worry about all
of the stuff I’ve been talking about here. 
We’ll just play within the usual femdom boundaries until… well, until I’ve
decided you’re ready to move on.  Some
never are. And if you are lucky enough to be taken there… then you’ll be a part
of my life journey, won’t you?  And I
think any true submissive would be happy with that.

[Once again, this is a work of total fiction.  Mistress Eleise, whose pictures grace and magically improve this depraved little tale, is the most professional, careful and thoughtful mistress imaginable.  She is very choosy indeed about her slaves – that bit is actually true – but if you are granted the privilege of meeting her, you won’t regret it.]

Out with the old…

… in with the younger, sexier and less fucking annoying – as my SO likes to say.


This year She’s decided that my new year’s resolutions will remain Her own secret. Pretty exciting!  She’s going to make a little note every time I break one of my resolutions, then deal with it all at the end of the year.  That way I can’t sneakily avoid puishment by complying, She says.  So that should be fun!  Apparently, I’ve broken two of them already.


Anyway, with a slightly nervous twitch in case posting captioned images is one of the things I’ve resolved to cut out, here are the first captioned images of 2017!  Just like all the previous ones, huh?


I think you should stand up for yourself. Who does Katie think she is, anyway? Go on – man up.

Male class can be quite uncomfortable, but it’s a lot better than it was in the early days of commercial aviation. You’re inside, for a start and that makes quite a difference.

You see?  Now male class in the passenger section is a lot better than going airfreight as livestock, and – What’s that?  Oh. Well, it’s even better than going as cargo on a container ship too, I expect. Bon voyage.

He’s probably fine. Men’s brains can go for long periods without oxygen without loss of any useful functions anyway.

Most wedding venues keep a spanking chair somewhere around – just ask the organisers.






Obeisance


Oh, OK.  I thought we’d barely started.  Never mind.

Well… it is a big decision to take.  So it’s a good thing she’s already taken it.

He’ll probably mess it up, he’s such a moron.  Just think what a fool he’ll look, every time he forgets about a release date!  Serve him right too.

Some people leave their bodies to science – mine’s going to fashion!  Or upholstery, I suppose.


How can this have happened?  I mean, for goodness sake, this is the third time this week!


Back to his place

That seems very cruel.  My own SO is much kinder – she’s got me on a diet consisting almost entirely of  fatty bacon sandwiches and chocolate cake!  Yum.  She wants me to take up smoking too.  She’s thoughtful like that.

There’s actually a Lifetime Achievement category at the annual snuff movie awards, but strangely no-one’s ever claimed it.

Well… OK. As long as she listens to his
concerns this time.  Last time, she decided she needed to pee right in
the middle of the conversation and I think he never got to say
everything he intended.
There you are, you see?  Now why did she let him get like that? Too soft on him, that’s what she is.

This blog doesn’t often feature dominant males, so say hi to Master Rod.  You won’t be seeing him often, but maybe he’ll be brought out to play from time to time.


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