Stories and pictures themed around female domination and male subjugation and servitude. Unsuitable for children, for alpha males, for hard-core practitioners with an interest in the politics of bdsm and the mechanics of complicated rope work. Of interest to perverts like me, basically.
Another science fiction special. I have a lot of unpublished captions for SF themes… also a lot for the Jane Austen style historical ones (that’s next Sunday – sorry, I know you don’t get to see a lot of tit and bum in those, but you don’t make the rules, maggot). It’s almost as if I’m avoiding the present day, as being something depressing or alarming… can’t imagine why.
Anyway, several tales of a brighter, if crueller, tomorrow.
The robot-looking ones are feeling particularly foolish – or would be if they could – having discovered they are entirely superflous to the conquest and enslavement of humanity. Well… the less intelligent half of it, anyway; they were planning to leave the other half alone as too scary to mess with.
Wow… that’s a scary thought. Imagine having to find your own food, instead of having it spooned out into your bowl by a kind owner.
Being tied up in the lassoo or truth, he can’t really protest that he isn’t a pervert. By the way: apparently, the lasso doesn’t force you to speak… but if you say nothing, you’d remain tied up by Lynda Carter forever. How awful that would be… unimaginable.
One advantage of defaulting to severe humiliation femdom play is there’ll be no awkwardness when she needs to regurgitate that food.
When she discovers there’s no female actually in charge, the solution will be obvious to her. Thank goodness.
I’ve done quite a few of these, just click on the science fiction tag. The guy making these calls seems to have had a hand in making almost all of the most significant genre movies of the past fifty years – quite an achievement.
That’s so unfair! I have specific unfulfilled perverted desires. A great many of them, covering a wide range of activities, true, but I know what I like and I know I’m not allowed it.
She mostly doesn’t mind him being small. The first time she tried kneeing him in the balls, she had to crouch down, but then she discovered she could easily lift him up off the ground and just hold him squirming there while kneeing him repeatedly, so they got over that difficulty.
Makes a change from being put out in the kennel.
It’s silly to pay for public humiliation play when you can get it for free from almost any girl by going up to her and trying a chat-up line.
Apparently theatres love booking them because there’s always a queue of male ‘groupies’ at the stage door, eager to come in and tidy and clean everything up after the post-show party.
How exciting – and unexpected – to imagine Scarlett watching a movie all about you! Hope she enjoys it… I’m sure she will; her body guard knows what she likes and he’s done this before.
It’s almost as if the designers of women’s loos knew…
I got caught up in the ‘you too’ movement – it just took one finger pointing languidly in my general direction, if I remember arright.
There’s actually relatively little outside work experience that can prepare a slave for the rigours of an OWK working stay, although I have heard that working for Amazon can help.
Not really. He was bending long before he finally broke.
Not quite sure what she means there. Housemaids’ and husbands’ roles are practically indentical anyway.
She was known for being a bully at school. I read an interview with a guy who was so traumatised by being mocked and humiliated by her in geography class that he abandoned the teaching profession entirely.
Oh dear. I think the discussion about whether you need to be microchipped is finally over.
She wears things that turn you on… dresses, shoes, that kind of thing. So: time to slip into something less comfortable for her.
Actually everything was OK, because it turns out Treasure’s a bit kinky too. Well… maybe kinky’s not quite the right word. It’s more that she had deep-seated issues of rage towards the male sex to work through, but the result is much the same in practice.
She has developed a technique for dealing with panic attacks… usually she just goes off and has a cup of tea.
The lovely MaĆ®tresse Blanche, there, who applies her treatments in a pretty little town near Fontainebleu outside Paris. I have been in that position, presumably in that very chair, and I was coping… OK with it all, until she discovered I was ticklish. But she coped very well with my not coping.
If you’re lucky she might let you have a longer ankle chain. But I wouldn’t bet on it.
Women are more sensitive to other people’s pain than are men. It’s an empathy thing.
Nothing quite so off-putting in a shining session as catching sight of your own face. Bleagh!
There are many rules of client meetings but ‘she’s always right’ covers most of them.
Doesn’t seem fair, really, when my own ‘secret sauce’ is all bottled up.
Don’t worry: Mistress Elizabeth offered to repay the time. Let’s see… two minutes and her time’s worth… what, a million times yours? So that’s… let’s see… using all my fingers… carry the one… 3.8 years hard labour. Oh, might as well round it up to four. Let’s hope she’s a kind mistress.
To be fair, no Mistress I’ve ever visited has ever called me by my real name.
It took a while for me to get used to our D/S dynamic in restaurants. I used to get embarassed at being so publicly submissive – even over what are actually practical and necessary things like, for example, my SO requesting that my food be given a quick whizz in the liquidiser so it can more easily pass through my feeding funnel. But you soon realise that the waitresses just don’t care: they’ve got jobs to do, after all.
That’s awfully generous of her.
I can do some quite spectacular things with it. Just not while having sex. Or at least, spectacular things have occasionally been done to it, by mischievous and highly creative people.
She has a keenly attuned sense of what your needs really are.
She’s got a little whip on which each of the thongs is studded with diamonds cut into sharp little points. Some might think that’s overdoing it, but she thinks it and the marks that it leaves are pretty and as long as she likes it, really who is to question her taste? Not me, certainly.
Form an orderly queue by the stage door…. Hey! I said an orderly queue! Look, if you can’t even follow simple instructions, she’s hardly likely to …
Good thing she brought a sub. They’re used to them on fashion shoots, of course: no self-respecting model would be seen without an obedient puppy boy on a leash or a sissy maid at a respectful three paces behind, these days.
She prides herself on being the perfect hostess: it’s all about making sure someone makes the effort to prepare everything properly before the guests arrive, apparently.
Humiliation play can be a tricky thing. I once met up with a domme in cafe for public humiliation play and soon found myself being insulted, belittled and eventually slapped by this elegant, blonde lady in high heels and furs. Perfect – until I discovered I’d got the wrong cafe entirely and the domme I’d booked had been waiting impatiently in the one around the corner. Most embarassing.
If all that fails, I understand there’s a briar patch they can throw you into.
I hope someone tells the patient that someone with the right skills and training is looking after his wife. Otherwise he might be feeling anxious for her.
I’m sure Julie won’t mind at all but it’s always polite to ask.
My SO likes to play this game and would you believe it, I’ve lost 23 times in a row. What are the odds?* I would say I’m very unlucky but I’m so lucky to be married to such a wonderful lady, that would be churlish.
* Just over one in ten million. “Do the maths” – as a Governess I used to visit used to say – “then bend over the punishment bench so I can do the marking”.
Many relationships that end in divorce could actually be saved if only the woman were prepared to make her husband do the work.
There’s usually a little crowd of embarassed-looking beta-boys waiting outside that club, so you can pass the time in awkward chats with them. You can bond over lucky you all are to have the opportunity perhaps to be useful to your goddesses, boyfriend jealousy issues, how you deal with chafing from your chastity belts and all that kind of subbie stuff. As long as she’s given permission, obviously.
It’s about time an A-list star called out these creepy publications that use images of actresses without permission, to titillate their sad and perverted readership. This blog applauds Ms Scarlett’s courage in speaking out.
But fortunately these days, more and more women are skilled in trapping and subduing these feral creatures and in the training techniques needed for domestication.
You might get a little embarassed asking the waitress – by kneeling before her with your paws up, panting wordlessly – but it’ll be worth it, you’ll see.
The problem with his company is that it wasn’t really listening enough to the equestrienne community. That won’t be a problem from now on, in fact these two ladies are planning to set up an advisory board to guide all future major – and minor – decisions.
George doesn’t do it for the applause, nor for the money – in fact he’s an unpaid volunteer. No: for George it’s best described as a labour of love and he really doesn’t need any public acknowledgement, not least because in his day job he’s a well-known lawyer.
Don’t push your luck, though. When she’s walked you home, wait patiently to see if she invites you in – and if instead she just unclips your leash and says goodnight, don’t try to change her mind.
What, you thought OWK ladies talk about nothing but whips and slavery?