Katharine Hepburn said that. And this  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…
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?
|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.
|Just don’t leave your used jodhpurs lying around.
|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.
… and hear me squeak.
|I’m not allowed to look my SO in the eye under any circumstances, so for that (and other) reasons this situation never arises for me.
|Loving brutal domination… that hits the sweet spot (repeatedly, raising welts and leaving it throbbing and sore).
Hard to understand atheists who say there’s no such thing as a divine being, in a world on which Mistress Eleise walks among us.
|I wouldn’t mind but it’s seven floors up and the male lift (‘elevator’, Americans but you knew that right?) has been out of action all week.
|It’s odd how often I find myself begging my SO for mercy, when begging her for brutal and gleeful ferocity would be so much more likely to succeed.
|Scurry scurry scurry…
|In practice a lot of the psychological elements flow fairly naturally from the pain and from the dread of it,
|So brave she bought a weekly pass enabling her to see any show she pleases. But watching Mark will be special for her, obviously.
|This picture in welts was just chance but some dommes take pride in their artistic skill with the whip. My SO likes to do Mondrians on me, for instance. I don’t mind the lines, it’s the areas of uniform flat colour that really sting.
A happy Cruella shoot, of course, with all three participants enjoying the balmy British summer.
|She’s right, of course.
|She puts a lot of effort into giving feedback and making sure the overall messages of the review are clear. So you’ll get a lot out of it. She appreciates obsequious upward feedback too.
I expect Cruella’s employees get plenty of feedback. As do unpaid employees or random passing gawkers at their photoshoots, I imagine.
|Another lady with an interest in giving clear feedback. Shame Harold won’t have much chance to learn from it for next time.
|Hmm… Looks like you’re not going to get a chance to impress her with that dazzling wit. Or anyone. Oh well, win some lose some. You did win some, right? I mean, at some point in your life?