Rulebreakers

Which rule?  Rule 18, of course.  Which states – as I’m sure you know – that dommes should “Try to avoid sessions with clients who have really specific fetishes and can’t get off unless it is done exactly right.”

Alas, unlike my own SO’s ninety-seven House Rules, which are quite strictly observed and still more strictly enforced, I encounter* examples of rulebreaking daily for this one.

So… yeah, here are some more.


Notice the thick socks inside the fur boots.  Socks are often a giveaway of a Rule 18 violation in progress.  Not if the socks are smelly from exercise and being used to wipe the face of a humiliation slut, though… that’s just good healthy femdom play.



Orca play.




Actually, this one started when his domme turned up one day and said “I’m afraid my leather jacket is being cleaned – will this do?”  And he never looked back.



It’s not just the use of the domestic flamethrower that makes this a Rule 18 violation… it’s the flying golden penis to the left of the flowers that are being torched and it’s the Shredded Wheat package.  Oh… the Shredded Wheat package.  “Can’t get off unless it is done exactly right.”?  One day, she didn’t have any and used Weetabix instead… nearly lost a client.




Not quite sure whether this one belongs here or in my series on femdom scenes being played out with heavy industrial machinery… but it definitely needed wider circulation.  By the way, those knees: do you think she originally had it installed for a slave who was just a little shorter?
 



She’s supposed to beat his ‘snake’ with a shillelagh, while commanding it to leave Ireland.  Or something.




OK, this whole video (and, as far as I can tell, much of the careers of the two lovelies featured here) is basically just one long Rule 18 violation.  If you’re into latex-clad pretty ladies cooking and eating men dressed as broccoli in order to get rid of bags under their eyes… well, I guess this is the video you’ve been waiting for your entire life.  If not, you might like it anyway.  I did, actually.  In fact I just watched it again. My eyes hurt… but in a good way.

 

Oh look, I embedded it.  I particularly like the way they look cross so often.  I love it when pretty women look cross.




* Did you notice the way I managed not to write ‘I come across’ there?  See, I’m dealing with my addictions.

It’s the pleasure and the pain

 Nice video, shame about the song.

 

 

What – I can’t even make a suggestion?  No?  Oh, OK then.

 

 

 

And very nicely bruised too, if I may say so, thank you, Ma’am.

 

 

 

Goodness, how unpleasant it would be to be paddled by her.  I expect you regret now not thinking this through, right?

 

 

 

Unpardonable, because at OWK the males get plenty to eat.  Not all of it technically ‘food’ the way that word is usually defined, but they certainly ingest a lot of things through their mouths – and other orifices too.

 

 

Maybe she’d respect you more if you stood up for yourself?  Can’t hurt to try.  Although she’s not one to change her mind easily… and neither, if I’m being honest, is her mother.  Maybe better to cower, after all.  Fetch the whip, anyway: best not to keep her waiting.

 

 

Since you’ve read down this far, you’re probably desperate an avid follower of femdom, so maybe you already know this, but the Cruella site has some lovely stuff up right now.  The ‘Cruella’s World’ page has a lot of photos and some photostories.  Some of the stories are from the old Cruella magazine, back in the 90s, including two of my favourites (because they are delightfully vicious) from back then: Rise & Fall of Men’s Lib and Thumbs Up.  Others are more modern… I even wrote one of them, under a pseudonym (a different pseudonym, I mean, cos ‘Servitor’ is not my real name, remarkably enough).  Anyway.  Get on over there, it’s wonderful.  Even some rare photos of Miss Chambers and her lovely, lovely nose.

Impertinent features


The clever bit of the trick isn’t how she stubs the cigarette out, it’s how she has persuaded you to accept it – and even pay for the privilege.

The lovely Miss Zoe, who once gave me an unforgettable cuddle after a particularly hard spanking.

 

 

Gal wouldn’t need to lasso me to make me tell her the truth.  But she’s very welcome to do so anyway.

 

 

 

They say it gets easier after a year or two, so just keep going.

 

Ah, I’d forgotten that I’d done this one, when discussing precisely this situation on Paltego’s blog.

 

 

 

Women will only be truly free when every male is enslaved.  It’s sad that it has to be that way but… oh, hang on, it’s not sad at all, is it?

 

Strict unethical standards


Sometimes, for brief periods when I am asleep or locked away in a cupboard.

 

 

 

 

God save the Queen.  And her subjects, who might need some divine intervention, in the decades of her reign.

 

What sort of fish?  Sustainably-sourced, I hope.

 

 

 

I did know at one point.  Maybe I forgot… it’s all such a long time ago.

 

 

 

Sometimes I wish English retained the distinction between familiar and formal modes of address.  I could try asking my domme to call me ‘thou’ but it just wouldn’t be the same.*

 This is the very lovely and French Ibicella.  She speaks English but, really, why would you want her to?

 

 

* Occasionally people ask me what my pronouns are.  To my embarrassment, I am forced to admit that I am not allowed any.

Sexually implicit

 

She must have read my mind.

 

 

 

 

Someone once said that marriage is a negotiation – but I find that turns out mostly to be pleading too.


 

 

 

It’s not a protest song.  She’s just fine with things as they are.

 

 

 

 

You’re probably wondering what sort of tiles Chloe and she are looking for.  I’ll make sure to ask, if I see her, OK?

 

 


…and the session will be held in an under-heated prefab with a leaky roof.

Location location location

Some weeks ago, Paltego posted a picture of the lovely Miss Chambers, from a Cruella photoshoot, pictured against a rather bleak post-industrial Northern British landscape.  Something like this:

 

 

 

There being little point in debating the unquestionable beauty of Miss Chambers (especially her lovely nose) the comments rather degenerated into an exchange about femdom shoots in bleak, unromantic spots.

Never one to miss an opportunity to do something derivative and run with it until it is no longer remotely funny or sexy, I decided to look through my extensive photo collection, with a view to identifying the bleakest background I could find.  After realising that Cruella would win any such contest hands-down, I limited Mr Rogue-Hagen’s entries to give others a chance.  

Obviously, interior shots of prison-like or dungeon-like backgrounds don’t count as those are supposed to look like that, and in some cases have probably been quite expensively fitted out to look grim.*  Nor do I feature arty and moody black and white shots against ruins – the criterion today is that the lady has to be trying to look alluring against a thoroughly unhelpful background.

All from Europe, as far as I can tell, if you include Russia, which has its share of bleak post-industrial landscapes.  In the US, according to my photographic evidence, dommes don’t go out much but on the basis of the few photos I have of them outside, most of the surface area of the USA is covered with swimming pools.  I guess there just aren’t any bleak urban or postindustrial landscapes in America, huh?  What a nice place it must be.


Let’s start with some classic Cruella.  Cow-shed.


Or this – this I think is from the photoshoot ‘Cement Plant Cruelty’ or possibly ‘Enslaved and forced to quarry limestone’.

Lest anyone think I am taking the piss out of Cruella, I… well, I am, obviously, but affectionately I hope.  I love Cruella; it was almost the first ‘proper’ femdom material I encountered and my heart used to hit 150 beats per minute when I saw any of these pictures.  The material and stories were and are wonderful, and I encourage you to visit Mr Rogue-Hagen’s site, where he has just reposted one of the most viciously delightful stories his magazines ever featured, the tale of the lovely Melody, a girl as sweet as the pears she loves so much.


The Germans can do it too, although their photoshoots often have more stuff in them, as befits an economy specialising in exports of light manufactures. Here’s Planet Femdom, where they like their dommes tall.  And then put them in super-high heels, just to make sure. (But it doesn’t seem to exist any more…. am I getting old?)


Not sure of the location, but a bonus point for this next one, for the plastic sheeting providing a temporary roof.  I want to know if they put that in specially for the photoshoot: to make it nice.




Further afield, there’s ‘bleak’ and then there’s ‘Russian bleak’…



Still in Russia, I have no particular reason to think this is an unpleasant location, but the lady on the left seems to be huddled in a shawl, wishing the photoshoot to be over so she can go and have a nice hot chocolate and get warm again.  And her shoes are falling off, the poor thing.  So I just feel for her and the photo gets an honourable mention for that.  There’s a naked slave too, but he probably deserves to be cold, the little creep.

PS – I only just noticed they’re sharing the shawl.  Did you notice that?  See, they’re not so heartless.


Moving slightly further west, Mistress Maya Sin does fabulously creative photo-shoots.  She started in Gdansk, which obviously gives her an advantage in this contest as what is Gdansk famous for?  Yes, apart from being the place WW2 started?  That’s right: the shipyard.  So where else is a girl from Gdansk (or a domme from Danzig) to go?  Here’s Maya Sin in the birthplace of Solidarnosc.  Probably.


This next one could be an easy contender for the prize, in that wily Miss Sin has managed to take the photo inside some giant piece of industrial machinery!  But then she ruins the whole thing by not actually being in the shot, which is always a drawback in any photoshoot of a beautiful domme and strictly against the rules of this competition.

Since taking these pictures, Mistress Maya has abandoned all hope of winning this competition, by moving to Paris (stop press: or maybe Dubai?) where she has herself photographed walking around in latex against some of the most elegant scenery in Europe (and managing herself to look more elegant still).  So this may be the last Gdansk femdom photoshoot you’ll ever see.

 

 

The railway tracks would not in themselves be enough to qualify, but just look at those girders!  No, I said look at those – oh, never mind.

 

 

 

 

 

More heavy metal.  Unlike the Russian ladies earlier, this lovely nymph is in more danger of encountering too much heat than too little.  See the way she is carefully not allowing her latex leggings to come into contact with the sunlit metal?  That’s professionalism.

 



OK, now this is not a bleak post-industrial landscape as far as we can see.  But it might be a kebab van.  I reckon a kebab van qualifies.  Especially a kebab van missing wheels and headlights.


The next is not actually a femdom photoshoot, just a grab from the perviest thing ever to appear on a family TV programme at teatime: The worm that turned, in the 1970/80s comedy show The Two Ronnies.  My eternal thanks – on behalf of my 12 year-old self – to whatever BBC producer decided there was nothing at all wrong with this, as it was obviously just a lighthearted romp through a future female-supremacist England, featuring gestapo girls clad in military caps, tight latex tops and shorts and boots… oh, and men forced to cross-dress and ordered around or sexually molested by women.**  Y’know: for the kids!  Certainly for this kid, anyway.

But it features an electricity sub-station, so it’s in.


And finally… I think we have a winner.  It’s not anything in particular, it’s just… someone strapped naked to a concrete pole in a rather run-down post industrial town.  Who finds that sexy?  I do, actually, very – but who else, I mean?



Oh goodness me, I think that’s enough bleak landscapes, don’t you?  Shall we just stop all this nonsense and refresh the palate with a lovely picture of the lovely Miss Chambers, against a perfectly normal background?  Yes, I think we shall.




Did you enjoy that?  I did.  In fact, I enjoyed it so much I think I’ll have another.


There.  Such a pretty nose. That’s all for today.  Off you go now.





* And in others clearly haven’t, as the ‘forbidding grey stone blocks’ of the dungeon wall are obviously cheap cladding or even just wallpaper.  Maybe one day I’ll run a ‘least convincing dungeon’ post.

** No really. This isn’t one of those TV comedies where there’s, like, three seconds of a lady in boots snarling at the camera and that’s all the femdom.  Week after week, this comedy adventure serial in the middle of one of the country’s most popular prime-time family shows featured the squad of latex lovelies shown there marching around and oppressing males.  OK, they were usually outwitted by the male heroes in their frumpy dresses, but this was simply amazing.  Still is.

Night terrors

 

They don’t.  I can vouch for that personally (but you cannot check for yourself, alas, because the lovely Lady Sophia Black appears to have retired).

Yes, that would be instructive.  Plus, they’ll need someone to clean up all the mess when they’ve finished with him.


 

 

Thank goodness for the wise motherly advice. There’s a reason her parents stayed together all their lives, you know.

 

 

 

She’s particularly good at the “laughing and joking to show it’s all consensual” bit at the start.  She practices for hours to make it sound convincing.  And she has very high standards, so make sure you learn your lines perfectly.

 This is the sweet and playful Madame Sarka, who appears not to be retired, so any readers looking for a gentle introduction to the world of female-led roleplay might want to try looking her up.  Be polite.  Very polite.

 

 

Easier said than done, alas, so I’m just going to keep masturbating to pictures of sexy actresses and singers, if that’s OK, Billie.


Agonising and ecstasising

Silly headline, sweet little song,* content is essentially unrelated.

 

 

It only gets sadder from here on in, Ma’am.  You don’t mind if I call you Ma’am, I hope?  Ma’am.

 

 

 

 

She can wait.  Hours, days, weeks.  Whatever it takes.  And you’re not going anywhere, obviously.

 

 

 

Maybe I’m just trying to demonstrate that I’m not one of those guys who just thinks about his penis the whole time, you know?

 

 

 

 

It’s cheaper than domme session rates, but only slightly – and much more intense.

 

 

 

 

Don’t ask her about the bad experience.  She’s been able to move on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* But not as sweet as the one from Butterflies.

Uncivil partnerships

 

 

It’s a mere technicality.

 

 


 

A lot of men who are initially reluctant to wear shock collars end up thanking their wives for it, I understand, so there’s really no reason not to give it a go.

 

 

 

There’s nothing worse than calling your domme by the wrong name, is there?  Well… Obviously, there is something worse, which is what happens next when you do – but I’m sure you know what I mean.


More and more women carry tasers to ward off unwanted sexual advances.  Even a few years back, when I was dating, I’d estimate maybe 40% of them did.





 

Thank goodness.  Finally a chance to put my side of the story!


Hers to keep

 

 

And of course there’s no rule that says you can’t use any twice.  Or even more often than that.


 

 

 

I expect Sasha will get the hang of it.  One excuse for a beating’s almost as good as another; it’s silly to get hung up on narrative consistency.  I never do – as readers of my stories will attest.

 

 

 

He’s probably thinking he’s not really up to moving like greased lightening, at his age.  But that’s the thing about femdom – you can always surprise yourself.

 

 

 

Subbie hear, subbie do.



Many submissive men get quite hung up on how wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, co-workers and so on will react to their fetish.  But the truth is, many of them just don’t care at all and haven’t the least interest in us.   I find it quite humiliating…. yum.