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.
And thank her afterwards
Category: public
There’s a place I know where we should go
So, for the next two weeks Servitor’s owner will be on holiday, so I’ll have the pleasure of 14-hour workdays for no pay in a different location.
As regular ‘readers’ will be aware, this blog has a fine tradition of clearing out old unpublished images that aren’t very good posting extra, bonus images during the holiday period by putting up a daily post with three unconnected, unthemed captioned images without context, wit or point. So that will happen starting from tomorrow for two weeks.
For today, however, the first post of an occasional new series: Holidays in Heaven, which has as a theme slightly contrived situations in which a couple from a ‘normal’ country (i.e. a patriarchal hell-hole) are on holiday in a female supremacist paradise.
OK, very contrived then. Whatever. I need to go and get my crate ready for the long flight. Let’s hope I don’t spend too long trundling round and round on the luggage carousel before she collects me this time. Last time it was two weeks, the entire holiday. But she’s always been forgetful like that, bless her.
Kiss the boys or make them cry
or both, even.
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| Nervous young husbands might want to check out Servitor’s old series ‘Seven Secrets of a Happy Marriage‘ which contains about 30 pieces of advice, each one of them as accurate and helpful as the title proclaiming there will be ‘seven’. |
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| Women can often be oddly protective of their shoes, can’t they? And their panties too, in my experience. Just ask any of the women in my neighbourhood, or the judge in my court case for that matter. There’s probably an over-protective, nurturing, nest-building sort of impulse behind it, I expect. The neighbours I mean, not the judge – she was just doing her job, except when she made me do that little dance dressed up and frillied in front of the court. Happy days… where was I? Oh yes. |
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| Fake it to make it and escape it. |
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| Anyway, you look so cute taking little steps, with the bells hanging from your nipple clamps going jingle jingle jingle. |
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| If you think the client in question is behaving in a humiliating way, wanking off looking at this lovely lady but not allowed to touch her or her clothing… what does that say about what you’re doing, right now? Hmm? |
Now and then we wonder who the real men are
Oh yes, a proper little sissy, that one. Has been for years. Hard to imagine him not in his frillies or
little maid’s dress, to be honest.
little maid’s dress, to be honest.
You want to know if he’s ever been out in public dressed that way? Funny how many visitors want to
know that…
know that…
Well… he has, from time to time. But that’s not the most humiliating public
display he’s experienced – is it sissy? Oh, sure, it would be embarassing to appear in public in a little girl’s dress, but the very worst public humiliation he has
experienced was a time when he went out pretending to be a normal man. Because it’s so ridiculous an idea! Simply ridiculous, isn’t it, sissy? That’s right, it is. And so are you, aren’t you?
display he’s experienced – is it sissy? Oh, sure, it would be embarassing to appear in public in a little girl’s dress, but the very worst public humiliation he has
experienced was a time when he went out pretending to be a normal man. Because it’s so ridiculous an idea! Simply ridiculous, isn’t it, sissy? That’s right, it is. And so are you, aren’t you?
I said: aren’t you ridiculous, sissy?
That’s better.
I’ll tell you the story.
It was when our ‘relationship’ had just started and it was still a
rather playful, sexual thing, not the 24/7 servitude it is now. Maybe he could
see the direction things were taking, I don’t know, but I found that more and
more often he was asking whether we could just have an evening out ‘as normal
people’. A guy and his girlfriend, not a
sissy-maid and mistress. After all,
despite all the games, he was a man, he would say.
It was when our ‘relationship’ had just started and it was still a
rather playful, sexual thing, not the 24/7 servitude it is now. Maybe he could
see the direction things were taking, I don’t know, but I found that more and
more often he was asking whether we could just have an evening out ‘as normal
people’. A guy and his girlfriend, not a
sissy-maid and mistress. After all,
despite all the games, he was a man, he would say.
Why not? So we went on a ‘date’.
On went a smart jacket and tie… frilly knickers below them, admittedly, and a
remote-controlled shock device below those, but he looked ‘normal’ enough on the
surface – a bit dweeby, maybe – and out we went, to a trendy bar.
On went a smart jacket and tie… frilly knickers below them, admittedly, and a
remote-controlled shock device below those, but he looked ‘normal’ enough on the
surface – a bit dweeby, maybe – and out we went, to a trendy bar.
He was nervous about the zapper, but I told him it was just
a mind-game (oh how naïve he was about my intentions towards him back then) and
I was true to my word and zapped not once, no matter how tempted. We had been in the bar for about half an hour
and he was beginning to relax, when I made my move.
a mind-game (oh how naïve he was about my intentions towards him back then) and
I was true to my word and zapped not once, no matter how tempted. We had been in the bar for about half an hour
and he was beginning to relax, when I made my move.
“Look at those two at the bar” I remarked, smiling. “Don’t they look lovely?” And I nodded towards two young women laughing
and joking together. They were indeed
rather glamorous. I imagined they were
having a couple of drinks together before going on to meet their dates – they certainly
looked dolled up for someone and I was not getting a lesbian vibe from them.
and joking together. They were indeed
rather glamorous. I imagined they were
having a couple of drinks together before going on to meet their dates – they certainly
looked dolled up for someone and I was not getting a lesbian vibe from them.
Sissy looked rather alarmed and started wittering about how
they were not as lovely as me, but I shushed him and told him it was fine: I
just meant they looked good, that was all.
“It’s OK for you to find other women sexy, you know” I smiled. “After
all, I do have the key – and not just to your heart.” He laughed too – more out
of nervousness than the feeble pun, I expect, and admitted that the two ladies
were indeed attractive.
they were not as lovely as me, but I shushed him and told him it was fine: I
just meant they looked good, that was all.
“It’s OK for you to find other women sexy, you know” I smiled. “After
all, I do have the key – and not just to your heart.” He laughed too – more out
of nervousness than the feeble pun, I expect, and admitted that the two ladies
were indeed attractive.
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| These are not actually the two ladies from the story. But the vibe is similar and so is the barman’s beard, which was just like that. |
“Right” I said, quietly.
“Off you go, then.”
“Off you go, then.”
“Erm… off I go? Go where?”
I nodded towards the attractive pair. “Go chat them up. That’s what real men do. See if you can get off with one of them. Give them your best pick-up lines.”
“But I… I…”
I took the remote for his ball-shocker out of my bag and very
deliberately clicked it up to 16 out of 20, holding it so he could see. His previous record was 14 and he had nearly
screamed the house down.
deliberately clicked it up to 16 out of 20, holding it so he could see. His previous record was 14 and he had nearly
screamed the house down.
“We’ll start at 16.” I said.
“And we’ll go up to 20. The
battery’s fully charged.” I picked the
remote up and rested my thumb on the button.
“And we’ll go up to 20. The
battery’s fully charged.” I picked the
remote up and rested my thumb on the button.
“Or…” I said, indicating the two at the bar with the remote
itself. He looked desperately around.
itself. He looked desperately around.
I yawned. “You can
show me your pulling skills, or you can scream.
Five, four, three…”
show me your pulling skills, or you can scream.
Five, four, three…”
He shot to his feet and barrelled over to the two ladies,
knocking violently against a stool as he went. The disturbance made them both look up, and one smiled in a puzzled, friendly
way.
knocking violently against a stool as he went. The disturbance made them both look up, and one smiled in a puzzled, friendly
way.
What sissy used for chat-up lines, I shall never know. I doubt the two young ladies do either, because
he was stuttering and shaking with embarrassment as he tried to engage them in
conversation, so I doubt he made much sense even close up. Almost immediately, it became clear that it
was not going well. The friendly puzzled
smile faded, and she spoke quietly but firmly to him, while her companion just
pursed her lips in disapproval and called the barman for another drink. Obviously, he had not “pulled” (I’ll confess now
that I had no Plan B for what to do if he had… but it had not seemed very
likely).
he was stuttering and shaking with embarrassment as he tried to engage them in
conversation, so I doubt he made much sense even close up. Almost immediately, it became clear that it
was not going well. The friendly puzzled
smile faded, and she spoke quietly but firmly to him, while her companion just
pursed her lips in disapproval and called the barman for another drink. Obviously, he had not “pulled” (I’ll confess now
that I had no Plan B for what to do if he had… but it had not seemed very
likely).
With a palpable sigh of relief, he turned away from them, towards
me and started coming back. I met his
eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of my head and then gestured back towards
the bar. He knew what I meant. Real men don’t give up that easily, sissy. Be
forceful. Keep at it.
me and started coming back. I met his
eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of my head and then gestured back towards
the bar. He knew what I meant. Real men don’t give up that easily, sissy. Be
forceful. Keep at it.
He looked horrified so I gently slid my thumb across the
button again, and as if by magic he turned back, to play the real man once
more. His face was white – almost greenish.
His attempts to appear masculine were not helped by the fact that his sweating had
made translucent spots on his shirt, so the shadow of the bra underneath was
very visible, although I don’t know if either of the two ladies noticed. Again, he spoke to them and this time there
was the reaction I’d hoped for.
button again, and as if by magic he turned back, to play the real man once
more. His face was white – almost greenish.
His attempts to appear masculine were not helped by the fact that his sweating had
made translucent spots on his shirt, so the shadow of the bra underneath was
very visible, although I don’t know if either of the two ladies noticed. Again, he spoke to them and this time there
was the reaction I’d hoped for.
No – not a face-slap!
He’d have enjoyed a face-slap, but that was never going to happen, not
in the vanilla world, only in BDSM sessions and in movies. No: the one who hadn’t
spoken to him so far just lost it, basically.
She stood up, in his face (slightly taller, in her high heels) and told
him what she thought of creeps like him.
She spoke loudly and angrily – not quite shouting, but everyone in the
bar could hear her give my poor sissy a piece of her mind about how she was
sick of being unable to sit in a bar and have a quiet drink with her friend
without sad little bastards like him coming up and ogling them and trying on
his lame pick-up lines…. She went on for a while. It looked rather cathartic. I smiled myself and quietly left the place,
as a couple of other people went up to the bar to help.
He’d have enjoyed a face-slap, but that was never going to happen, not
in the vanilla world, only in BDSM sessions and in movies. No: the one who hadn’t
spoken to him so far just lost it, basically.
She stood up, in his face (slightly taller, in her high heels) and told
him what she thought of creeps like him.
She spoke loudly and angrily – not quite shouting, but everyone in the
bar could hear her give my poor sissy a piece of her mind about how she was
sick of being unable to sit in a bar and have a quiet drink with her friend
without sad little bastards like him coming up and ogling them and trying on
his lame pick-up lines…. She went on for a while. It looked rather cathartic. I smiled myself and quietly left the place,
as a couple of other people went up to the bar to help.
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| Only in movies, I’m afraid. And femdom sessions. And femdom movies, for that matter. |
I hadn’t abandoned him.
I had just sidled into a nearby doorway to see what happened. Don’t
worry: he wasn’t beaten up or anything – they just marched him out of the bar
and shouted quite a bit more. Poor sissy. He does not deal well with conflict. Perhaps that is why he has allowed himself to
be sucked into his present lifestyle – there is no possibility of conflict in
his life now, just obedience.
I had just sidled into a nearby doorway to see what happened. Don’t
worry: he wasn’t beaten up or anything – they just marched him out of the bar
and shouted quite a bit more. Poor sissy. He does not deal well with conflict. Perhaps that is why he has allowed himself to
be sucked into his present lifestyle – there is no possibility of conflict in
his life now, just obedience.
He was still shaking when we got home. He took off his ridiculous male outer clothes
with revulsion and popped on a maid’s outfit to serve me a drink. I allowed him to calm down, kneeling at my
feet, for quite a while before making sure the lesson had sunk in.
with revulsion and popped on a maid’s outfit to serve me a drink. I allowed him to calm down, kneeling at my
feet, for quite a while before making sure the lesson had sunk in.
“Any time you feel you want to behave like a real man again,
sissy…” I started, but he shook his head violently. A shame.
I was going to suggest going to a football match and getting into a
fight with the other side’s supporters.
Or paying some streetwalker several decades past her prime for an
encounter in a bleak concrete lay-by smelling of piss and diesel fumes (I don’t
think he’d even need his tube locked on: I have several times forced him to
tell me honest accounts of his fumbling attempts at sexual liaisons in early
adulthood and I can confidently predict that in that circumstance, little peter
would not be rising to the occasion). Real
man stuff.
sissy…” I started, but he shook his head violently. A shame.
I was going to suggest going to a football match and getting into a
fight with the other side’s supporters.
Or paying some streetwalker several decades past her prime for an
encounter in a bleak concrete lay-by smelling of piss and diesel fumes (I don’t
think he’d even need his tube locked on: I have several times forced him to
tell me honest accounts of his fumbling attempts at sexual liaisons in early
adulthood and I can confidently predict that in that circumstance, little peter
would not be rising to the occasion). Real
man stuff.
If he ever asks again, I have
quite a few things he might try.
quite a few things he might try.
But somehow, he never has.
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| Isn’t that better, sissy? Much more your thing. |
As she pleases
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| I’m sure she won’t mind. Cindy’s very easy-going. |
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| You say bukkake, I say bukkaka. |
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| Self-locking nipple clamps. What’s not to like? |
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| Don’t worry. There’ll be things for you to eat too. Just a bit later. |
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| Do you suppose you can catch an STD from licking a domme’s boots, if some other guy came on them in an earlier session? Perhaps medical professionals should carry out some experiments on that. |
