Keeping it real

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.



Obviously.

Sorry about this

Sometimes I do things like this.  It’s a compulsion.  It’s best just to ignore me.


When I was a lad I fantasised
Of
being by a lady with a cane chastised
.
I
visited a
domme and
I paid my dues,

And I polished up the
leather
on her high heeled shoes.

(He polished up
the
leather on her high heeled shoes.)

I polished up that
leather
so
carefully
That now I am
a
sissy maid to Mistress B.

(He polished up that
leather so carefully that now he is a sissy maid to Mistress B!)


Ti tum ti tum ti tum ti tum

In
our next encounter, I played the role

Of a schoolboy, under very strict control,

With my tie askew and my homework late

I wrote five hundred times that I
deserved my fate.

(He wrote five hundred times that he
deserved his fate.)
I copied all those lines so obediently,
That now I am a sissy maid to Mistress B.

(He copied all those lines so obediently
that now he is a sissy maid to Mistress B!)


I
turned up each month with my tribute in hand

In a plain paper envelope like contraband

And soon found myself, though not first – by far

Appointed to her stable as a regu-lar

(Appointed to her stable as a regu-lar.)
I was
spanked and pegged
so
reg-u-
larlee

That now I am a sissy maid to Mistress B.

(He was spanked and pegged so reg-u-larlee that now he is a sissy maid to Mistress
B!)


In visiting my Mistress for my monthly
task
For a sign of her favour I began to ask
And my joy knew no bounds when, before her throne

I received a leather collar naming me her
own
(He received a leather collar naming him her own.)
That collar was my passage to slavery,
So now I am a sissy maid to Mistress B

(That collar was his passage to slavery so
now he is a sissy maid to Mistress B!)


Quite soon in my journey as a collared
slave

I was fitted with a tube so I don’t misbehave

And I soon experienced a sharp decrease

In the frequency with which I could achieve release.

(The frequency with which he could
achieve release.
)

I spent so much time in chastity

That now I am a sissy maid to Mistress B.

(He spent so much time in chastity,
that now he is a sissy maid to Mistress B).


I retired from my job, free at last from
stress

And I bought myself an apron and a frilly
dress

For my plans for retirement had been long
laid

To attempt domestic service as a sissy maid!

(To attempt domestic service as a sissy maid)

I teetered on my heels so precariously

That now I am a sissy maid to Mistress B.

(He teetered on his heels so
precariously, that now he is a sissy maid to Mistress B).


So….

If you dream of a lifetime spent in unpaid work,
With
the cane awaiting when you dare to shirk

If your heart leaps high at the thought of a mop

And a life down scrubbing on your knees,
non-stop.

(And a life down scrubbing on your knees,
non-stop.)

Spend
all of your money on your session fee

And you all may be
sissy
maids to Mistress B.

(Spend all of your money on a session
fee and you all may be sissy maids to Mistress B
!)





Pictures are from the rather lovely cleversissy.tumblr.com, who surely is.


Shattered ever after


“My other daughter, Cinderella”, the merchant
gabbled, bowing low to the Prince and his party. A
haughty young blonde strode into the room, sat down in the armchair and
crossed her booted legs.  She stared with contempt at her father and step-sisters, huddled together against the back wall.  

“Well?” she demanded.  “Get on with your chores” and she watched them scurry from the room, stammering their apologies.


The Prince sank to his knees before her.  “May I?” he murmured, reaching out with a
trembling hand.  She
nodded curtly and the Prince slowly
unzipped her boot with his right hand, cradling the heel in his left. A moist,
warm miasma emerged as the loosened boot was gently lifted free.

“Sorry about the smell.  Been on my feet all day”, Cinderella
explained.

“It’s, erm… it’s no problem at all.” gasped the
Prince.   “You know, Lord Chamberlain, I think we don’t even
need to try the slipper. 
This is obviously the right pair of… pair of feet.” and he moved closer,
his face hovering just above the damp, stockinged foot. 

“Oh yes.  Yes: these are the feet.”

“Are you sure, your Majesty?” the Chamberlain
replied.  “They look a little on the
large side to -”

“Well then the slipper must have shrunk!”
snapped the prince, not taking his eyes from the foot he held so gently.

“Shrunk, Sire?” the Chamberlain replied, one eyebrow
raised.  “The
glass
slipper?”

The Prince turned on him in fury. 
“How dare you question your Prince! 
Arrest this man!  I shall decide
what to do with him later.”

“Perhaps a few years in the salt mines?” Cinderella suggested. “With hard labour? I’ve heard that can be quite
effective.”

The Prince looked up into her blue eyes in shock.  “That’s quite a harsh, erm… well, for a man in
his age
and condition…
I think…” he tailed off, noting a distinct pout coming over the lovely features
above him.

“Quite right, my dear, of course.” he continued.  “As you wish.”

Her restored smile seemed
to light up the room.  “And
we won’t be needing
that silly thing” she added, indicating the glass slipper with an elegant
finger.  The finger pointed towards a spot on the
floor, where the Prince placed it. 

Stand back”, she instructed.  And down
came Cinderella’s other, still-booted, foot shattering the slipper into ten
thousand iridescent shards.

“Oh dear” she smiled.  “So now I suppose whoever’s foot fits into that gets to be Queen?”, and the Prince raised the boot he was holding in shaking hands towards her gracefully-pointed toes.

And it was a perfect fit.

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