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.
As you’ve probably noticed, this blog features ‘themed posts’ on a Sunday. Well, I… what do you mean you haven’t noticed? You don’t just come here to look at the pretty women and wank, do you? This is supposed to be a conversation between me, the artist, and you sitting there, with your trousers down around your…
OK, well anyway, not exactly a themed post today but I noticed I was doing more and more captions, defacing the lovely image of a lady called Nicola Cavanis, so I thought I’d do a special on her, give her her own tag and so on. I expect she’ll be rather pleased, don’t you?
Remarkably, for a young lovely whose photos are all over the Internet, she appears not to be Russian.
But… ?
That’s the great thing about femdom – you can just turn many ordinary household implements into sex toys. Whether it’s something sharp, something blunt and heavy or just something vaguely cylindrical and sufficiently large, there’s almost always some kind of scene you can work with it.
Are you going to stand there and let her speak to you like that – you, a grown man? Stamp your foot, dammit – or run to your room, throw yourself onto the bed and scream into the pillow while kicking your feet. She’ll soon realise she can’t treat you this way.
I’m not even tired. Not fair.
I just can’t imagine why he would have wanted not to spend hours handwashing her panties… what’s wrong with the guy?
Be prepared, sissy, be prepared. I myself never go out without lubing up a little, just in case I should run into one of my SO’s former boyfriends and find myself being whored out to his mates. I’m not saying it happens every time, obviously, but when it does I’m usually glad of a little lubrication back there. I usually carry some mouthwash too – you never know when you’ll need it, do you?
Go on, it’s an opportunity to show off your strength. Girls like that.
An optional 150% service charge will be added to his bill, but of course it’s entirely at her discretion.
I don’t think ‘we’ are going to be doing a lot of talking, except of the begging and pleading variety. Same as usual.
There are penalties for average scores below ‘B’ and rewards for slaves receiving an overall ‘A’, although no one has ever found out what those rewards might be. This guy here is averaging a ‘G’, but then he is very experienced and well-trained so it’s not surprising he’s doing so well.
We were bent over the desk, dreading every stroke, I think, if I remember rightly – and wondering why we can’t just enjoy normal sex, like normal people do.
Let’s hope she learns from this little conundrum. An espresso machine prepared and ready to go just within button-pressing reach of a pilloried hand and she can have her aching, tearful, regretful husband and a freshly brewed cup, both at the same time.
Most of the choices I face are no-brainers, which all the women who have ever known me would probably agree is just as well.
She could even theme your confession with the outfit by putting the lasso of truth around you. That would be a nice, gentle start to what is about to happen.
Let’s hope the greeting ritual she chooses is number 17. I’m particularly good at that one.
Come on… you’ve got this. Two pawns down is nothing – you started with ten of them, right? Something like that. Try moving one of the little horsey ones.
I do! After a miserable rainy May, we now have bright sunshine chez elle (i.e. where I live) and I thought I’d do a sun-drenched special to celebrate summer’s balmy days. Admittedly, I myself haven’t yet seen the sun, as there are no windows in the part of the house where I live (not a problem, of course – after all, what would be the point, this far underground?). But she’s promised to break out the summer sweaters and the heavy rubber gimp suit, to take me out into the garden this weekend to where the treadmill awaits, bathed in sunshine. So that’ll be a nice change. I’ve also just booked a romantic stay for two at a beach resort for later in the summer, but I wont divulge the details as she hasn’t decided which boyfriend to take with her. They get so jealous – especially a certain old bull I won’t name! *
Anyway, here we are: summery captions.
I doubt that. I have actually become quite good at accurately judging women’s weight. But sometimes you have to tell them little white lies – bless them. The number of times I’ve had to control my breathing carefully to say ‘no, no – light as a feather!’ without gasping…
It’s great. Yeah. I’m getting quite good at never having any sexy thoughts at all, as long-term readers of this blog will know only too well.
Oh… don’t mind me.
She
likes long walks in the country, getting caught in the rain and keeping
up with the latest developments in applied metallurgy.
Actually, I brought a spare myself. I always do, just in case. I mean, imagine how awful it would be to run into Gal by chance and not have a leather belt or similar implement on you… a lifetime of regret would await.
* Regular readers shouldn’t worry. There’ll always be a place for Raoul in her heart – and in her vagina, mouth and anus, too of course.
I used to be sexually irresponsible, but someone has kindly taken responsibility now, so that’s all right.
Male chess players need to learn that being beaten at the game by a female player isn’t humiliating. Believe me, there are much more humiliating ways of being beaten by a female, if you only seek them out.
I’ve never understood why dominant ladies so often like to promise me more to cry about. I don’t find it the least bit reassuring.
So much to look forward to.
She shouldn’t let him exploit her like that.
She seems quite forceful. It’s probably just as well for Gerald that he’s only marrying one of her.*
*NB, although this blog generally does not seek to provide advice on safe, sane and consensual BDSM, readers might want to consider the advisability of a romantic relationship with any woman who refers to them as ‘human male’.
Dommes and cats… am I right? Ever noticed that? Dommes and cats…
And a lot harder
The simply wonderful Amy Hunter. I once had the remarkable pleasure and the still more remarkable pain (mainly the tawse on the hands – ow!) of visiting her.
I have a purpose to my existence. My SO has promised some day to tell me what it is.
Arachnophobia play is quite culturally specific. In the UK it’s just a matter of harmless terror, but in Australia I’ve heard it ‘s considered quite edgy.
It wasn’t actually feeling that nervous – it’s just got one of those faces, you know? But it’s beginning to get a bit jittery right now.
More images of female domination that aim to expose the harsh – sometimes even bleak – reality that underlies our harsh – sometimes even bleak – fantasy world.
Subs are all about rules. It’s good of dommes to indulge us. I don’t know what I’d do with myself without my chastity regime, for example.
Fake lesbian crap? On this blog? Surely not.
We would not.
…and I suppose it would be exciting to imagine that she’d be sitting on him, too. But her fantasy is probably more along the lines of her sitting somewhere else entirely – a nice cafe, for instance – properly dressed.
There’s nothing like standing in the corner with a well-smacked bottom on display to give you a sense of perspective.
Her fees are reasonable. She isn’t, I’m glad to say.
I tried calling the NHS helpline once, because I thought it would be a turn-on to ask a nurse all sorts of questions about the safety of enemas and how to deal with unwanted erections. The nurse I ended up speaking to was very sympathetic and started taking me through all of the details – but I must somehow have let on that I was just phoning for the sexual turn-on, so it got a bit embarassing after that. Anyway, he was very nice and we’ve agreed to meet up some time after lockdown ends, so that ended well.
Sometimes a session starts badly, but I find when that happens the best thing to do is put it behind me and try to enjoy myself, anyway.
Wearing a shock collar can give you a sense of perspective too… along with a lot of very unpleasant electric shocks, obviously.
Armpit Fetishist Monthly is just another example of the decline of traditional media, another fine publication swept away by the Internet. I recall their cookery page with particular affection.
…and by the way, I have posted this before even with the same comment, but… Oh. My. Goddess. I have to see this movie!
My office established a system of disciplinary procedures for inappropriate sexual activity. Which to my mind is just having your cake and eating it too… or would be, were I allowed cake.
I’m thinking of paella – perhaps a nice Rioja to go with it? And maybe Roger might like to try bastinado, in keeping with the Spanish theme.
With luck, she’ll take up chewing gum obsessively.
Love hurts and so does she.
By the way, this lady is going to feature here rather a lot from now on. Unless she takes out an injunction or something (don’t you hate it when women do that?). Nata!
