Category: shoes

Someone to look up to

What she doesn’t realise is that I always do my best… it’s just usually rubbish, that’s all. Fortunately, I’ve had a lot of practice at scurrying.
She can resist anything except temptation.
At the OWK there’s always a bucket available, in case one of the slaves feels sick. Usually it’s just the bucket the food comes in, actually.
Of course, I don’t necessarily know that this is actually what happened behind closed doors, and I’m just imagining a scene that happens to fit what I would like it to have been. So… just like the actual series, The Crown, then.
His name won’t go down in the record books along with hers, but his scream will be what a lot of viewers remember, when watching the footage of that historic day. Plus, he got to attend the medal ceremony, curled up and sobbing on the grass by the podium. It did delay his trip to hospital but how many times in your life are you going to be the target of a world-record ball-busting kick?
I guess he was asking for it. But not paying… so unfair.

Those uncomfortable conversations

Try not to pity her boyfriend too much, abject slave to his desires though he is: he doesn’t know any better, poor soul.
How reassuring.
Don’t worry: she’s not really going to change her name to Mrs Pencildick. As a matter of fact, her husband’s the one who’s going to be legally changing his surname. To hers, obviously, although she is considering making him change his first name officially to Pencildick, or some such, at the same time.
It’s the same algorithm that sends you all those dick enlargement emails. Oh… you thought they were just spam? No, they’re very carefully targetted. Most other guys don’t get them.
When setting up a session with a new domme I usually ask her to treat me with utter contempt and disdain and I have to say, my experience has been that they’re all startlingly good at it. Sometimes I don’t even ask and they still get it right… I guess experienced dommes develop a kind of sixth sense for what their clients are looking for.
He obviously survived to a ripe old age… imagine him keeping the book all those decades, turning the pages occasionally to reminisce over his days under Miss Rathbone’s loving tyranny, only for the book to be sold to a second-hand shop after his death. Still: looks like it’s found an appreciative home.

…and just a little bit of found femdom to finish (do hurry up and finish, won’t you? Your wife will be back soon and you don’t want her to find you like this). More divine Joy…. who has done this many, many times before and she totally, totally knows…

So chic so fine you all look so divine

I do my best thinking in the corner. Sadly, it’s still not very good.
Reminds me of my SO, who has a real phobia about germs. If there are any streaks left in the toilet bowl, she calls me to lick them away immediately. Hygiene’s so important to good health, after all.
Apparently, many men find female sexual fantasy hard to accept – but as long as you’re tied tightly enough, you’ll accept whatever’s going on, I say.
Yeah, it’s weird: from a very early age I had no interest in playing with toy hammers or saws but show me a mop or a dishcloth and I’d be away. I used to play in the girls’ household corner at nursery school (kindergarten to you, most likely). Well… I used to clean up their mess after class, actually, but it was play for me.
Of course in reality she’s speaking in Czech and he ain’t from round there so I’m afraid he’s not getting much of this. He has picked up a few words already in his stay, but all he’s hearing is “—- flogging —- punishment —– ball-kicking —-“. Fortunately the OWK ladies have other ways of making themselves understood.
So if he’s already had gay sex eleven times, that implies a gay/straight ratio over the course of his life of… well: infinity.

Captured moments

There are worse fates than being trodden upon.
I’m sure you wouldn’t. Not really. Not really really really. Right?
I always find it so hard to remember my details in these circumstances: my name, date of birth… all of that, just flees my brain. Fortunately my password’s ‘Shoelicker’ so that’s easy.
Thank goodness one of you came prepared.
Come inside you silly bugger…
If you think about it (and Kitten’s thought about it a lot) a pay piggie is just like an ideal sugar daddy, because Kitten gets more money to buy the things she wants, doesn’t have to have sex with anyone old and ugly and doesn’t even have to pretend to like you.

Enigmatic

Yes, just imagine how awful that would be. But don’t imagine too hard, or the spikes might start digging in painfully. Oh – too late? Sorry.
It’s amazing how modern technology can take the drudgery out of life but to a sufficiently determined woman, there’s still plenty of drudgery to be found.
I expect it’ll turn up eventually… and while it’s missing, you might even find out you could have done without it all along. It’s often that way.
Oh dear. And her feet too! Sigh. Scurry.
Don’t be so selfish – or possessive. In fact, it’s probably a good idea to get out of that last habit, now you don’t have possessions.
Mmm….

Reigning in my heart

It’s best if she doesn’t do any rowing, as she wouldn’t want to work up a sweat and ruin the shoot… anyway, that’s what she brought you for. Don’t worry, she’ll probably do some paddling later, when the two of you are back at the hotel.
So much better to come to a negotiated settlement like this than have an unpleasant fight in court. More fun for her, too.
Not a good morning for her, not going to be a good evening for you. Consequences, remember?
She’s multi-tasking: doing stuff and ignoring you.
If you want to dispute the analogy, I’m sure she’d be only too happy to force your feet into a nice pair of 5-inch heels for the last two flights.
I think Ryan would definitely say it’s up to her.

Hypnotized by you if I should linger

I will listen hard to your tuition.

‘Hmmm’ as in ‘Mmmm…hmmm…’? Or as in ‘Hmmm!’ ?
I always switch my phone off before a session, And the location thing too. Once, visiting the delightful Mistress Servalan in Sydney, my own phone ran out of battery just before I was due to call her to tell her I was on the street outside and I had to call a dominatrix on my work phone. That was briefly stressful, but Mistress Servalan managed to bust my stress almost immediately.
C’mon, give her a break, for goodness’ sake.
C’mon: be a man. A very submissive, cringing kind of man, ideally.
She won’t use the shock collar on him either. Says it’s cruel.

The divine Miss Chambers, from Cruella. Oh that nose…

But don’t get too close. 1.5 to 2.5 metres, remember? And always behind her, which can be a problem if she turns around suddenly. A problem for you, I mean. She doesn’t mind.

Whips and whims

Don’t forget your morning prayers too.
If love is there, honouring and obeying should come naturally. And if they don’t, I’m sure she can find an alternative means to encourage them.
He has… but here’s only so much misbehaviour you can get up to, muzzled and on a leash.
Don’t worry: she won’t whip you any more than necessary.
My SO finds it very upsetting when our cat catches a mouse and plays with it so cruelly. As she says, there’s a 50% chance the poor little thing is female.
It’s a future-proofed profession, because although technology obviously could automate the basic function of shit-carrying, it could never provide the same satisfaction forcing a male to do that provides to the onlooker.

And thank her afterwards

Nothing wrong with a bit of good old-fashioned pain, without all that fetishy nonsense, as my SO likes to say.
My VR settings show all women as fully clothed – even naked ones. Apparently that’s better for me.
Many girls find the sight of a penis and balls revolting – risible, even. But clip on a couple of heavy duty electrodes and most will see the erotic potential.
Actually ejaculating will be another €400 on top of that, by the way, so make sure you’ve got enough. Money, I mean, not semen: you’ve got far too much of that and need to keep it to yourself.
It’s a job with a lot of prospects – most of them quite demeaning and unpleasant.

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.

Something weird with her stuff? The very idea!
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