professional dominatrix – Page 7 – Contemplating the divine

Forbidding ladies

Don’t worry. One day you’ll no longer be a valuable asset.

You can still walk away. For that to happen, you’ll need a degree of conscious control over your limbs, so you might need to wait a few moments.

Some might find it bizarre that he’s the one paying her, really, but we don’t, do we?

The extraordinarily wonderful Lady Sophia Black. But no link to her web site, as she’s retired. Like Paltego said a couple of weeks ago, you mustn’t leave it too late – see what you miss out on?

I’m beginning to think she might be taking in laundry from her friends, to earn a little money on the side, the sly old thing.

Sorry, readers, I couldn’t resist. Well… I could have. But I didn’t.

Rather tediously, just a quick word about anonymity. I’m getting more and more comments on the blog, which is absolutely brilliant, and I do try to reply to them all. Blogger provides an option for whether to allow anonymous comments and with some trepidation I switched it on some years back and I have not regretted it. Almost all comments are fun and kind, I have very, very few trolls and the occasional marketing blurb that escapes the spam filters can easily be deleted (or left up if I think it funny).

So, all good. But it’s getting harder to reply to all of the anonymous comments as specifically as I’d like. You are of course welcome to be as anonymous as you want. Our society is at present sadly unappreciative of males who need to be dressed in little maid outfits and have their naughty bottoms smacked until they squeal (actually, most if not all males need that, but the majority don’t know it yet). However, if you could try to be just a little less anonymous, that would make the comments section more fun, I think. Two options. One: you can set up a Google account in a fake name. I mean, I myself am not actually called ‘Servitor’ in real life, startlingly enough. I have a completely separate Windows log-in for naughty stuff and that’s where Servitor lives, when he’s not chained up in the doghouse outside. Two, if you’re uncomfortable with that you can still be officially ‘Anonymous’ but put some name at the bottom of your comments. Misses Zoe and Holly do that, so do many others. Even femsup can manage it, and he’s a worthless, incompetent worm, as I think he’d be the first to admit. No offence, ‘sup.

Or don’t. Up to you. I won’t delete purely anonymous comments and I’ll keep trying to reply to them. So there are neither rewards nor consequences for good behaviour in this regard, as this blog is not under proper female supervision. Just a suggestion.

Goodness, that was a lot of words with no wanking material involved. And there you are, sitting all ready with your trousers down around your ankles. Go on, then, have an extra captioned image of a lovely lady, as a reward for getting this far.

Quite right. Back to those chores.

Her whip, her rules

It’s basically self-enforcing.

Males who spend their lives being obedient to a dominant female partner and carrying out her every command live longer, you know. Fact. They get beaten less often too.

Don’t worry, the first performance is just in front of a few special friends.

Hands out of your trousers first, OK? Don’t want to embarrass yourself.

Actually, you can have plans if you like. She really doesn’t mind one way or the other.

To misquote the immortal Bing Hitler (3.15 in): ‘A domme won’t sting ye, as long as ye don’t annoy her… but how dae I know what annoys a domme?!”

Warning: immature content

Don’t proceed past this point if you’re offended by implicit sexual imagery.

Some women won’t even let men know they’re upset. I’m glad she’s being so forthright.

I think she’d be good at humiliation play, don’t you? She could build on her knowledge of real clients who want real sex – and draw a few sharp comparisons.

It’s a natural gift. That and practice. And a lot of Gaviscon, if I’m honest with myself.

Actually, this reminds me of yet another depressing contrast between fantasy and reality I encountered in one of the very first times I sessioned with a domme, having been too nervous to do so, for many years. (NB: don’t be like this guy! Contact a domme! It’ll be lovely; she’ll be lovely!). With the wonderful lady, now retired, who stars as ‘Mistress Valerie’ in my early stories. ANY-way, so back then she smoked (then she gave up – clever, strong Mistress). So I did the human ashtray thing – wow, yeah, ash flicked into my mouth! Oh the humiliation! And then she gave me a near-finished cigarette butt to eat, and eager Servitor chewed and swallowed and… and… spent the remaining hour of that two hour session, with stomach churning, heart racing from the nicotine and generally feeling like he would soooo rather be somewhere else. Oh well. Did it once. Thank you, Mistress.

Rather like other much-maligned minorities, lesbians who happen to have jobs that involve castrating men often lean into the stereotype by embracing the otherwise offensive phrase. One of Jennifer’s co-workers likes to wear a badge saying “Warning: castrating lesbian”. It breaks the ice at parties and she does get served very quickly in bars. But she also has to explain to women who are annoyed with their husbands or boyfriends that she can only do it within the legal framework… unless they’re really cute wives and and girlfriends, in which case she’s been known to make an exception.

No, I just wanted to spend a few more seconds staring into those eyes…

Destructive criticism

I was about to say they don’t get very many complaints but I looked into it and apparently they do get lots and lots of complaints, but they’re invariably withdrawn later. Sometimes by the patients themselves, sometimes by their legal guardians if they’ve been declared mentally incapable. So that’s all right.

Better do what she says. Really.

You do have a safeword, of course. Just use it if it all gets too much, and she’ll stop whatever she was doing immediately and do something else. This, for instance.

Looks like it’s going to be all talk and no action! What a disappointment.

You know, they gave him equal billing with her? Sometimes the world makes no sense at all.

Textual humiliation

Scamper scamper… wag wag wag.

She’s not, like, a pervert or anything.

Mistress’s boyfriend actually, so a bit of both you might say.

Personally, I just feel more comfortable wearing stereotypically female clothing, because when I try to sneak any male clothing on I invariably get found out and beaten.

One fewer thing to worry about, then.

Malicious minds

Don’t you know I’m caught in a trap?

Any specific plans? Or just an early night… that would probably be best, actually, so you’re all ready in the morning.

But the diet doesn’t have to be healthy all the time, either. She likes to mix and match, so to speak. Femdom’s all about choices: having them, denying them, whatever.

The lovely, wise and occasionally delightfully cross Ella Kross.

Or even a bit longer if she needs it… it’s traditional for a bride to arrive a little late, keeping her anxious groom waiting at the altar.

Wherever she goes, but on all fours and two paces behind, I hope.

It makes my blood boil, seeing the divine Anne being disrespected. To be honest, it makes my blood boil just seeing the divine Anne, so we’re actually all the way into pulmonary embolism territory here.

She’s also beautiful when she’s not angry

… but it’s not quite as much fun.

You might find you get to like it. Or you might not. She doesn’t really care, so why should you?

Divine Mistress Heather and her divine feet and divine attitude.

When she says ‘using it’ she doesn’t mean… you know. Not in public, that would be disgusting. Anyway, it hasn’t been three months yet, has it?

She gets bored and loses track of time, poor thing. I expect she’ll get better at it, eventually.

Sounds like she’s got a tough decision to take. I hope it doesn’t keep her from having a good night’s sleep.

I expect you’ve been wondering how some glammed-up domme could simply walk into a police station, with a client in a pink latex dress, march straight past the officers on duty, put the client in a cell and walk out without anyone challenging her, right? I certainly have been. I guess we’ll never know.

Dressed to oppress

Argh! It’s worse than when waiters do this… write it down!

Time to discover some traditional small-town values, I suggest.

You might as well be comfortable, while writhing in agony, after all.

Can a truly life-long relationship be founded on such flimsy foundations as a boots fetish and financial exploitation? Do you think he or she cares?

Kitten has sharp claws, daddy issues and some serious rage to work through.

All authority in Heaven and Earth has been given to her

Extra Easter post! Yay…. Only one actually Easter-themed, but that’s probably just as well, really.

Could maybe try a bit
of both? Make him eat a chocolate egg or two, while he’s suspended by
his aching wrists? Meet halfway, in a spirit of compromise inspired by the season.
All that chocolate might help him work up even more of a thirst for the
sponge of vinegar she’ll be raising to his parched lips after he’s been hanging there for a few hours.

Yeah, don’t dwell on how things might have gone differently in the past. Much better to think about the future and… mmm, OK, maybe better not to think too hard about the future, actually.

Naughty nursie’s getting a pay rise. Several pay rises.

Just a normal day, like any other – normal from now on, anyway.

I suppose so. Maybe. It depends on the context, you know? I don’t think there are any absolute ethical boundaries here.

Lashing out

In case you’re wondering, I’m not doing April Fool’s Day stuff. I have before.

One year I warned people in advance that the blog was going to feature occasional fem-sub content, then came up with this. And then a year later, ran a feature on those mis-understood (and modest and humble) members of our BDSM community: male doms. Believe me, Contemplating the Divine going M/f is about as likely as the Catholic Church embracing Wicca or a video found on Pornhub being, y’know, any good.

Then another year I did this, which was a bit rubbish but had lots of lovely pictures.

But not this year. No, really. This isn’t some kind of self-referential ‘tell them there’s no April Fool joke but then there is’ thing. Sorry. Just the usual crap.

So much hell to dish out, so little time. People think the life of an OWK Lady is all lazing around eating peeled grapes, but really it’s all go, all the time.

You want know what I think? I think these are very good ideas and she’s right about this, as she is about everything. That’s what I think and I’m determined not to think anything else.

The food’s not as good as at a traditional British boarding school, but other than that the lifestyle’s pretty similar, I understand.

That’s her sweet ‘girl next door’ look. She has some very scared (and lucky) neighbours.

This is the sweet and vanilla Melisande Sin, to be found in a few places in Poland (which Russia would be well advised not to invade because (a) NATO and (b) her).

Still, at least she remembered your anniversary this time.