office – Contemplating the divine

…a word that doesn’t mean what you probably think it means, as it is a form of ‘systematic argumentative discourse’. So probably not recommended in the sorts of relationships this blog favours, where apologies should be simple, heartfelt (and felt in other parts of the body too) and frequent.

I’ll confess I’ve never understood men who want to cheat on their partners or imagine they can get away with it. It’s not as if any lady’s going to fail to notice a second padlock hanging there on my chastity belt.

My SO is constantly ‘encouraging’ me to learn new dance routines to entertain her bulls, but none of them seem like the sort of guys who really enjoy watching dance, so I hope they don’t get too bored by it all.

Fortunately, Kate’s unlikely to reach the prize first as she’s too soft-hearted to use the whip on her horse, the sweet thing. She doesn’t believe in cruelty to animals.

Not The Hunt, for those of you paying attention to such matters, this is more of an informal social thing, with friends and less death.

He’s not even doing any work, just hanging around the office.

The silly thing’s forgotten to put a blouse on – perhaps you should remind her?

Reminds me of the time I decided to try some vanilla so I booked a sex worker who offered ‘a real girlfriend experience’. Bloody hell… I’m into humiliation and abuse, but not *that* much!

Those uncomfortable conversations

Try not to pity her boyfriend too much, abject slave to his desires though he is: he doesn’t know any better, poor soul.

Don’t worry: she’s not really going to change her name to Mrs Pencildick. As a matter of fact, her husband’s the one who’s going to be legally changing his surname. To hers, obviously, although she is considering making him change his *first* name officially to Pencildick, or some such, at the same time.

It’s the same algorithm that sends you all those dick enlargement emails. Oh… you thought they were just spam? No, they’re very carefully targetted. Most other guys don’t get them.

When setting up a session with a new domme I usually ask her to treat me with utter contempt and disdain and I have to say, my experience has been that they’re all startlingly good at it. Sometimes I don’t even ask and they still get it right… I guess experienced dommes develop a kind of sixth sense for what their clients are looking for.

He obviously survived to a ripe old age… imagine him keeping the book all those decades, turning the pages occasionally to reminisce over his days under Miss Rathbone’s loving tyranny, only for the book to be sold to a second-hand shop after his death. Still: looks like it’s found an appreciative home.

…and just a little bit of found femdom to finish (do hurry up and finish, won’t you? Your wife will be back soon and you don’t want her to find you like this). More divine Joy…. who has done this many, many times before and she totally, totally knows…

Feminine guiles

She had to do something to keep herself amused. She’d already done today’s Wordle, after all.

She’s also his personal financial advisor – she’s recently encouraged him to move most of his ready cash into envelopes.

She’s lucky to have Sarah, otherwise she’d be a pushover for any chained-up male with a sob story.

Embarassingly, it was only at the top she realised she’d meant to throw something into the rubbish bin and had to lead you right down and then back up again, the silly forgetful thing.

It’s nice and quiet down there, hardly anyone ever visits. Don’t worry, though: there’s a food chute. Well… down there it’s a food chute. On the surface it’s a rubbish chute. Same difference.

Don’t worry, they always schedule some special ‘couple time’ when your wife has you just to herself.

Without discipline, there’s no life at all

Katharine Hepburn said that. And this [edit] is a picture of Audrey Hepburn, so the picture, like the Hepburns, is unrelated. Thanks to Downlow, low down in the comments for pointing this out. I’ll get me coat…

I’d have to say yes please. Ma’am.

“Readers” with an interest in Hollywood actresses may want to check the blog this coming Sunday. Just saying…

Don’t worry, it’s never too late to fill in any gaps in your schooling. I mean, I went to a school that didn’t have corporal punishment but look at me now.

Like many women, she’s discovered she doesn’t need high heels to come across as assetive and commanding.

I’m not sure she’s taking this seriously enough. She ought to have realised already that you *did* tell them how you felt about it, repeatedly, throughout the nine hours. Not quietly, true, but they were definitely told.

Silly Raoul. I hope he doesn’t feel too embarassed about his mistake, watching her play while busting out all over the place. Maybe she can find some way of cheering him up, in the breaks between sets.

Let the joy enter and fill your whole being.

And thank her afterwards

Nothing wrong with a bit of good old-fashioned pain, without all that fetishy nonsense, as my SO likes to say.

My VR settings show all women as fully clothed – even naked ones. Apparently that’s better for me.

Many girls find the sight of a penis and balls revolting – risible, even. But clip on a couple of heavy duty electrodes and most will see the erotic potential.

Actually ejaculating will be another €400 on top of that, by the way, so make sure you’ve got enough. Money, I mean, not semen: you’ve got far too much of that and need to keep it to yourself.

It’s a job with a lot of prospects – most of them quite demeaning and unpleasant.

The lovely ‘Victoria’ from Cruella, of course, with whom (in magazine form) I spent rather more time than was good for me back around 1989 or so.

Something weird with her stuff? The very idea!

Sordid scenes

Words can hurt… he’s upset now, because he didn’t say it in the hope of getting out of the whipping, but because he meant it and he loves her. Whips can hurt too, of course. Quite a lot.

See, if you can’t be bothered to remind her at the right time, why should she be bothered about it?

Just follow the sound of her voice… I live my life according to that principle even when I’m not blindfolded.

Many guys see nothing wrong in an appreciative stare at a sexy girl. And increasingly, many girls see nothing wrong in bundling those guys into burlap sacks and brutally torturing them in a windowless underground cell. So it’s all just about finding the right partner.

Whenever I read yet another article claiming that men aren’t doing so well in the modern IT-oriented office, I just think about all the guys reading this blog: still working the computer effectively with just one hand, *and* with trousers down around their ankles. Show me a woman who’d do that.

She learns a lot from the conversations with them. For instance, she has discovered that it is “a nice skateboard”. Sometimes the conversation even goes as far as “Uh, yeah. Really, really nice.”

Femdom Chat session

Oh hi, Mr Folkes. Yeah, I’ve drafted that report like you asked me. Sorry it took so long. I’ve tried to make it read like you wrote it yourself, like you asked.

Actually… well, if you’re interested, I thought I’d try something a bit hi tech, since no one else seemed to want to give the intern work. See, I realised there’s probably quite a lot of stuff out there that you’ve written, so one of these AI thingies ought to be able to write in your own style. Right? So I gave that ChatGPT thing a prompt about the report topic and ‘in the style of Mr Adrian Folkes’ and so on. But it came up with the weirdest stuff!

Look: here’s the bit about the new marketing initiative in Scotland:

Douglas fidgeted nervously as he stood in regulation shorts and cap outside Mrs Harcastle’s oak door. The quarterly sales figures were down by over 15%. Something would undoubtedly be said about that, he knew, and something would be done too. His heart sank as he contemplated that prospect. It was going to be hard, there was no point in pretending otherwise.

“Come!” he heard, and he tried to control the butterflies in his stomach as he turned the door handle. Mrs Hardcastle was standing there, the dreaded three-tailed tawse in one hand, his report in the other.

“So it seems middle-class ladies from Lothian in their fifties are particularly displeased with your performance, boy!” she sniffed, disapprovingly. “That most certainly includes me and I do not propose to leave the matter unremedied. Clearly, my previous efforts have not been sufficient and a more… vigorous approach is called for. Trousers down and bend over my desk.”

See what I mean? It’s… kind of about the Scottish marketing initiative but… weird.

Here’s another about the new office in Prague:

Madame Loreen leaned back, allowing the heels of her boots to scrape the pallid back of the quaking slave kneeling before her. The furniture in the new facility was barely adequate, she reflected, noting that the criss-crossed whip marks on her footstool’s buttocks suggested that her colleagues thought the same. Furthermore, the artwork that was supposed to decorate the walls had not yet arrived, so the Ladies had tried to brighten the place up by dangling slaves from steel manacles across most of the walls. At least the electricity was working, she thought, watching the slave on the wall before her jerk frantically, mewing into his gag, as the electrodes clamped to his nipples delivered random jolts of electricity.

Clearly, the contractor had failed in the tasks assigned to him. A special meeting had been arranged, at which all the Ladies would have a chance to express their displeasure with him. Her fingers curled reflexively around the handle of her bullwhip as she thought about that.

Yeah. It just produced something like that every time. Every item I tried: the GPT wrote up your monthly finance analysis as something about a princess and her ‘pay piggies’ for instance and it suggested replacing the contract cleaners with senior male managers dressed as little maids and spanking them until they met their targets. Oh, and the stuff about performance management was just brutal.

It’s weird isn’t it? Do you suppose there must be another Adrian Folkes out there, writing stuff like that? Only, I gave it your address and everything, so…

Anyway, looks like the technology has a long way to go, I ended up just writing the report myself. Old fashioned style. I’ll email it to you, shall I?

I hope you like it. I really made an effort… worked all night on it… I’ve got my internship review coming up, after all Mr Folkes. I’d love to work for this company… get a foot in the door of such a promising new business. I hope you’re going to make a submission to the review board.

I actually took the liberty of drafting one for you, using the GPT thing again. Funny: speaking of foot in the door, it’s mostly about feet, actually. My feet. And about you. Anyway, I don’t think it would be very suitable, but it might give you some ideas, if you’d like a copy?

Lap dogs to a slip of a girl

It’s funny: in a few weeks he’ll probably be complaining it’s too hot, staked out there on a lovely summer day with the honey and sweat running off his skin and the ants tickling his face.

I tried a self-help book once. Apparently my feelings of inadequacy aren’t real. Oh right – so what have I been paying all that tribute for, over the years, then? Silly book.

Good thing she decided not to wash her hair, as she hates saying no to people.

A survey of the male employees found 82% of them consider the new dress code unbearably humiliating. Management are working hard to think of something they can do to respond: 18% of males not feeling constantly mortified is simply unacceptable in a truly inclusive workplace.

Just don’t leave your used jodhpurs lying around.

First oppressions matter

It’s good to have a mid-morning energy boost, especially when you’ve got Class 6d at 11.15. They can be a bit challenging, I’ve heard.

Good to know she’s researched it so carefully. Anyway, would it matter so much? More than her need to be soaped matters? I don’t think so, and nor do you if you’re honest with yourself, right?

Actually, he might end up trying to mate with Elisa. Not his decision, after all.

Boys can do computer too. And I don’t just mean cleaning keyboards. And not just getting the coffee, although obviously with only one male in the team no one else is going to be doing that.

Fortunately, all your pain receptors still work.

Category: office

Lowly thoughts

Apologetics