Category: slavery

Historical fits

Yeah, more old-timey femdom. They did have it before the invention of latex, you know.

Fun fact: the beautiful Anna Popplewell who features here is, I think, the only actress I have ever captioned whom I have seen in (so-called) real life. Not a very fun fact, I know, but I don’t get a lot of fun in my life.

Spookily inaccurate

A Halloween special.

Unpleasant, cruel trick or delightful, yummy treat? But…but… aren’t they the same thing?

My SO really likes to do Halloween properly. She creates a whole ‘spooky garden’ on the way up to the house, with ghostly lights and freakish moans from a lost soul shackled in a cage dangling by the front porch. It gets ever so cold, but it’s a fun way of doing something with the local community. And anyway, it’s only for one night, unless she, y’know, forgets, dear absent-minded thing that she is.
Apparently, he’s been very naughty and she’s going to have to be strict with him. Very strict.
I wonder what tastes better than cake?
An eternity of torture in Hell may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but compared to most dommes’ hourly rates, it’s remarkably affordable.
They say the place is haunted by the ghost of a housemaid, chained and on her knees, endlessly scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing away the stains on the floorboards that can never be fully erased… but that’s just Trevor, he’s one of the regulars.
Actually, she hates Halloween – it’s Amateur Night.
Hmm. I reckon this could be a turning point in their relationship.

Offhand comments

It’s good of her to check – sometimes, I need a ‘little reminder’, for which I am always very thankful.
Of course, the permanent slave quarters won’t be as luxurious. On the plus side, they won’t smell as strongly of shit – not at first, anyway.
I still remember the day my SO found an item of women’s underwear that wasn’t hers, pushed to the back of my bedroom drawer. It was her mother’s – and I’d pretended she hadn’t put it in the previous week’s laundry bag, when in reality I just hadn’t been able to scrub the period stains out. I learnt my lesson, you can be sure!
Many wives like to have the anaesthetist there and ready, at least, in order to enjoy the look on hubby’s face when he realises she’s not going to do anything.
I suppose I really ought to make a British joke about having a boot fetish, but as we say in the UK: I can’t be arsed*.
He’s worried about lots of things, actually. Not unreasonably, in my view. Incidentally, you might worry about back problems in this sort of play, but you can be assured she’s made that her top priority – see how straight she’s sitting?

* Actually, I can be arsed, repeatedly and vigorously, but only when the mood takes her and she has enough boyfriends round.

Science fiction isn’t just thinking about the world out there. It’s also thinking about how that world might be.

So let’s do that, in a spirit of optimism about the future. Science fiction time.

Some of the kinkiest scenes in any mainstream (well.. it is French) movie ever… The Perils of Gwendoline in the Land of the Yik-Yak

Speaking of pervy sci-fi… on the off-chance any of you perves don’t know: Lexx.

The wrongness of men

She shouldn’t have to do all the work in this relationship. Or any, in fact.
Tricky situation. Torture and murder are, let’s face it, ethically questionable activities, at best. On the other hand, they really are very pretty feet. What to do?
Oh no, not again. And they needed a new umpire after Edie disputed that line-call, too.
I don’t think anyone has mentioned any limits – no one female, anyway – so I suppose it’s open house, so to speak.
I think of the time between 5 am and… oh, anything from about 10 onwards, I suppose, as my special time. No disturbances, nothing to do but chores. Bliss.
She could have just unhooked the leash, rather than taking the collar off. That’s a sign of trust in your releationship, you know. Cherish it.

A cure for idleness

Or several cures, even, often bookable by the hour.

Don’t worry, she’ll listen carefully to your views on the matter, as you gasp them out. Or you can leave it until after and tell her while sobbing.
I’m sure Sylvie will be fine, as long as you don’t do or say anything annoying during the three weeks she has you. What’s that you say? You’re male? Hmm… OK, I can see that could be a problem.
Another nice lady, but make sure you ask her politely or she might get cross.
They also serve, who only kneel and pay.
They do accept femsuprem-supporting boys as ‘associate members’ but if you already belong to a full member, that won’t be necessary.
He could go along to the next meeting of his teachers’ union. Trouble is, so might she and some of her friends.

This lady, although seen only from behind, is the stunningly beautiful but (it seems) essentially uncontactable Lady Tamara Kenworthy. Fairer maiden never gymslip wore.*

*Except possibly this one. Ah well, dreaming is free.

Harsh untruths

“As long as it takes”, usually. Sometimes longer.
What are you waiting for? It’s rare to find a kinky costume that actually turns a woman on. Think how much closer this is going to bring the two of you.
And don’t worry if you have any concerns about her ‘three or four little changes’ – if there’s even one word that you want to change, she’s quite happy to leave the whole idea for now and give you as long as you like to come around.
Later on – with a lot of effort – they put him in the cage. That finally got him to their desired weight, without any more effort on their part, although it took quite a while.
It’s odd how many of the lesbian slavegirls on this blog seem to have an obsession with male genitalia. But I just posts what I sees.
Not entirely a surprise but he was at least hoping Nata would toss him off herself.

Paradox girl, mighty woman,you are the thing that terrifies them.

Don’t worry, she’ll adhere strictly to the conditions in the contract you just signed. You did read it, right?
It’s understandable: most operations on males don’t require anesthetic.
Next time she might try just not turning up. Testing your limits… you see?
No animals were or will be harmed in the making of this torture-snuff caption.
That is a good mnemonic: works for lots of things.
Fortunately they were able to use agency photos to illustrate the article as the camera-sissy’s hands were shaking too much with shy excitement to do justice to Mistress Kate’s flowing locks.

Bonny brutality

I don’t pee standing up, either. My SO insists that I do it lying in my bathtub, with my legs up as far over my head as they’ll go. It’s quite uncomfortable – and messy – but she says it’s funnier that way.
The trick is to have a weekly joint budget – and for the male to have sufficient incentive to make sure it isn’t exceeded, no matter what she spends.
You can get an app to track your pillory time each week, I understand, which can be useful for writing letters of thanks.
‘D-I-V-O-R-C-E – find out what you’re worth to her, on the open market.’
Oh good. I hope one of them’s a nice cup of hot chocolate.
It’s not mind-reading. Men can’t really hide it when they’re aroused. I don’t just mean erections – even we submissives who aren’t allowed them exhibit subtler signs, like whining and pleading.

Under her care and control

Because she’s very caring and very controlling.

‘Rules’ mind you, not ‘contract’. Your agreement was not required then, nor is it now.
Quite a lot at those ladies’ hourly rates, I hope.

I’ll mention again, in gratitude and encouragement, that Cruella’s back catalogue of magazines and photos is finally being made available for download. You can even pay by PayPal. Go on…

I might like it if it were consistently cooked properly but, for some reason, half of the time the person serving me just pushes a bowl of raw octopus into my face. I can’t imagine why this place gets such rave reviews. Still, you go for the experience, really, don’t you?
Obviously, it’s a bit of a gamble giving your life and freedom up to some unknown starlet. Sure, you might end up with a diamond-encrusted collar, chained up in the playroom of a Beverley Hills mansion… But most budding actresses don’t make it and you’re far more likely to end your days working two paid jobs and doing domestic slavery for an abusive, bitter alcoholic, her looks ruined by bad plastic surgery, living with her violent boyfriend in a trailer park somewhere. Which – y’know – isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but you should know what you’re getting into, that’s all.
I might venture a prediction… well: more of a guess, really.
I wonder what it would take to convince him to go vegetarian?

The astonishingly glamorous, beautiful and witty Mistress Eleise de Lacy, a truly wonderful domme, now sadly retired. This tweet from Sardax contains lovely pictures I’d never seen before, showing her playful smile (do tigresses smile? If so, it must look something like that).

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