Category: slapping

Managing directrices

Their ‘at your desk’ service is very popular. Alternatively, they can just take control of your male employees remotely and sort the problem out that way, but most of their users prefer to watch them work in person.
Well… OK. Sounds pretty standard to me. Do they have good wi fi?
He hasn’t been told himself yet, so I expect he’s eager to hear your guesses.

The wonderful, clever and lovely Tiffany Naylor, who nayled me good and proper a few years back. I still have the warm glow.

There’s always extras. Still, probably worth it for the talented Sven. If she enjoys card games, for example, he could play Gin Rummy all evening and poker all night.
They’re not designed that way, but why not give it a go?
Just as long as she understands that she can’t force you to do anything your wife’s not comfortable with.

Well, you don’t sound very grateful

Recent quote from a lovely domme, disappointed by my bad manners. Needless to say, she helped me to express my gratitude more profusely.

Pictures are neither more nor less related than usual.

I expect she has quite firm views – vigorously expressed – on gratitude, too.
Of course she’s not actually going to throw the gift set away – I mean, she has it now, so she might as well keep it. But its the principle of the thing. Ironically enough, that particular cosmetics firm practises cruelty-free testing. And she knows that. But she holds to her principles very strongly.
What a shame she doesn’t let you have enough money to afford her services. Oh well, there’s always sitting alone in the dark and howling inwardly, right?
There’s a guy who hangs around the coffee shop just waiting to see that domme approaching the door, so he can leap ahead of her in the queue and ‘pay her coffee on’. Sadly, she doesn’t know that because she’s never had to pay for a coffee there and thinks its free… so she just occasionally notices with irritation the guy who always barges ahead of her in the queue. But life was never meant to be fair.
As a last service, try to notice which way your beloved wife bet and then breathe faster or slower, depending, to help her win. That would be a loving gesture and it’s not as if you’ll have many more opportunities to show how much you care for her.
I wonder what it does mean? Madame Šárka seems to know… I expect she’ll be able to help him understand his mistake – and the seriousness thereof.

As a bit of found (and probably unintended) femdom, this is rather lovely, by the way. I wonder if it works with anything other than golf balls?

There’s a place I know where we should go

Holi – holiday!

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.

Dressed to repress

 

She’s actually very tolerant – it takes a lot to get her to lose her temper. Backchat, obviously.  Disobedience too… and laziness, of course, as well as forgetfulness and ingratitude. Anyway, what I’m saying is that you’ll quite often find yourself not being slapped, even when there might be cause to, so there’s really very little to complain about when you are. Even if she permitted complaining.  Which she doesn’t.


 

 

 

Yeah, first gay sex experience is always going to be a bit daunting.   Once you get through that first time, you can just relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. It won’t be long before you’re a very experienced player, having enjoyed so many sex partners, you’ll have forgotten that just a few hours before you were a virgin. 

 

 

Sounds fun… expensive, but worth it.

 

 

I found I simply didn’t have time for TV sports any more, after getting married. Busy busy busy.

 

 

Toss a coin?

 

 

 

 

 

Not now, John

I’d forgotten this had femdommy bits – mildly suggestive only, I guess, and with that very special 80s pop video fuzziness, but I actually find that nostalgically erotic.*

Anyway, on with the 21st-century nonsense.






I always find a good beating really brings an apology home. And a bad beating, still more so.

It would be very odd to be the sort of guy who visits a sex worker who doesn’t tell him off and treat him with contempt and disdain.  A bit limiting, I’ve always thought.

Might be time for that safeword, actually.  Now what was it.  Pretty sure it wasn’t ‘mmph’, sadly for him.

She hates ironing, loves whipping.  That’s why this happening.

There’s a splendid phrase in British english “Face like a slapped arse”.  I think that’s one problem I don’t have – I have a face like a slapped face and an arse like a slapped arse.  When I’ve been lucky.





*I once caught the first 1 minute of “The Dominatrix sleeps tonight” on a BBC 2 pop programme, when I was, I dunno, sixteen or something. Oh. My. God. Then they stopped playing it.  Noooooo!!!  For years afterwards, every time I watched a music programme, or a bit of MTV when visiting somewhere (we didn’t have it), there was a little glow of hope I might see it again, or see more of it.  Never did until the Internet came along and then I was more jaded, of course.

A pretty face may be enough to catch a man, but it takes character and good nature to hold him.

The title quote, of course, is from Sir Thomas More’s Utopia.  But you knew that, right?  You’re an educated, sophisticated man of the world, who knows that the capital of Gabon is Libreville, can calculate complex sums quickly and accurately and understands the main principles of the annealing process in glass manufacture.  You just pretend to be an ignorant schoolboy who doesn’t even know that the capital of Australia is Sydney.*


Apparently, I have ‘kick-me testicles’. I never even knew that was a thing, but there you go.


Actually, I get quite a lot of normal healthy sex in my current relationship – maybe a bit rough, but really just your basic penetrative sex, fellatio… that kind of thing.  Several of Her favourite boyfriends are bisexual, so I get a lot of action.  I have to say, I prefer perversion, on balance.

And ‘cum-bucket’ isn’t even a word, so in a sense the question of spelling doesn’t even arise.
Her bedroom wall is covered with hunting trophies.






It is, right? I mean, better than nothing. You’re enjoying yourself, yeah?  I’m afraid this is the last caption today, so you’d better finish now.. that’s right.  Up and down, up and down.  Tugtugtug? A bit more – there! Excellent.  And… just get the last out, there… great. See you on Friday!





* Yes, I know.  It’s a joke.  If you don’t get it, maybe it’s my fault for being too obscure. Or if you’re a humiliation slut**, maybe it’s your fault for being such a moron, hmm? Too stupid to actually wank and think at the same time, are we? Gosh… a small cock and a tiny intellect – didn’t exactly win the first prize in life, did you? Try one of those blogs featured on Tiresome Tropes, instead, lamebrain, maybe it’s more your level.


** If you’re not a humiliation slut, I don’t recommend reading the rest of the comment above.

Then someone falls in love… and someone’s beaten up

Actually, those things happened the other way around, but still… best day of my life.


No, it’s not medical malpractice.  His daughters, as the responsible carers, have to approve any unusual ‘treatments’ he receives.  And they have done.

That reminds me: you know those novelty jelly beans, where some taste awful?  Modelled on Harry Potter, obviously.  Well, I tried one that was supposed to be slug flavour the other day, and do you know, it was nothing like it?  How can they get away with stuff like that?
It wasn’t me.  I never.
Actually, there probably are some other things that would work.  She just hasn’t tried them all yet.

I thought the air hostesses were supposed to look after unaccompanied males until they’ve got through Immigration?