Category: story

Phone protocol




Lovemachine Serviceline, I’m Karen, how can I help?

It’s to do with your sexbot?  OK.  Is
there a problem?

No? 
Oh.  If there’s no problem then why did you…?

You just want to tell me how wonderful
your sexbot
is?  Everything about her is perfect?  OK sir.  Well, that’s very nice. Now, if you don’t
mind, I’ll – 

She’s a series 5800?  Wow. 
Top of the range, huh? No wonder you’re so pleased with her.

‘She’s beautiful and you’re a lucky man
even to be granted the privilege of licking her boots?’  Oh..kay. 
I think maybe I’m getting the idea. 
Can you tell me which programme you’re running?
 

‘Domina Deborah”?  I see. 
And you’re running that right now, I take it?  How’s that been going?

You have been ‘lucky enough to be granted
the honour of serving her and being corrected for your many faults’.  Ooh. You had the setting all the way up to
10, didn’t you?  
What’s that?  Yes, I imagine you would have to be grateful.  Very grateful indeed.  I’ve seen the specs for the programme.  She’s not an easy lady to please, is she?  

OK, well it’s easy enough to fix.  There’s  a small switch behind her ear, so if you reach up, you can – 

‘You’re not allowed to raise your head above her knee height’?  Yeah, OK, I can see that would be difficult.  Can you try just reaching up and –

Ooh – that sounded nasty!  Are you all right?




Yes, I suppose you are ‘a very lucky boy to have such a beautiful Mistress play close attention to you’, aren’t you?  Sounds like you’re going to need the reset safeword before she pays you so much attention you lose consciousness.




The reset safeword.

You did create a reset safeword
before running the programme?

No? 
Why don’t you men ever read instructions?  Then you’re a very silly boy, aren’t you? Are you going to ask me nicely
for the default reset safeword?

No, more nicely than that.  Call me Mistress Karen.

Well that’s not a very nice word is it? I
don’t think Domina
Deborah is going to like that.  Hello?

Hello?

Caller?

Oh well. 
Cos if you’d asked really nicely, I could even have done a remote
reset.  But you didn’t. So I won’t.

Lovemachine Serviceline.  I’m Karen, how can I help?

Of academic interest

In a change to the usual format, today we are publishing the preamble to an academic sociology thesis.  Pretty hot, huh?  You don’t get that on Men in Pain or Cum Eating Cuckolds, do you?  Can’t imagine why not…


Extract from Male Liberation Theory: prevention and cure, a thesis submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of Sociology (Male Studies Unit)
Sheila Harrietsdaughter, King’s College, Cambridge, May 2086.

Alan Travis (as he was named at birth) is one of the more
interesting revisionist male liberation theorists. Reading his books in
sequence provides an insight into a fascinating philosophical journey.  Born into a society almost unimaginable today, in which women had achieved mere ‘equality’ in society with men, he lived through the most profound and joyful social changes – changes that he, like many males, struggled at first to accept.  His early works are hard to obtain, but even
the list of titles evokes the dilemmas he was forced to confront, as he redefined his views on male liberation and as his thought
developed and matured.  A selective biography:




  • Grateful thoughts from a
    male feminist: how the women’s rights movement has given us all a more
    equal society     (2013).
  • De-gendering social change:
    the role of male allies in transformative feminist thought     (2014).
  • Let men help: the concept of
    sexism and its interpretation by feminists and their male allies     (2015) 
  • Women’s rights, political
    correctness and male identity     (2016)
  •  A united front against
    sexism? The value of male voices in the feminist movement     (2017)
  • Not ‘all’ men are bastards:
    deconstructing the divisive rhetoric of the ‘new’ women’s movement     (2018)
  • Reverse oppression? Sexism
    and the ‘new’ women’s movement     (2019)
  • Criminalising men: sexist
    jokes are not ‘rape’     (2020)
  • The enemy within?  Male
    supporters of the ‘new’ women’s movement     (2021)
  • No votes, no voice – men’s
    place in the ‘new society’     (2023)
  • We will not be silenced:
    free speech and the prohibition of ‘sexist views’     (2025 – unpublished)
  • Second class citizens? 
    Men in the ‘New Society’     (2026 – unpublished)
  • Voices in the darkness: the
    testimony of male victims of the ‘New Society’     (2028? Published informally
    by the men’s underground movement)
  • Men’s Liberation – A
    manifesto
    (2030? Published informally by the men’s underground movement)
  • “Writing this line over and
    over again will help me to learn that my own opinions are of no
    importance: women are in charge and we males will do as we are
    told.”  20,000 lines written in Re-education Camp 9, published in six
    volumes     (2041,
    writing as ‘Prisoner M847733847’)
  • Eating dogshit – grateful
    reflections on a re-educational stay     (2043 – published by the Department of Male
    Education and Correction, as part of their ‘The life that awaits you’
    series for schools).
  • Male Liberation – who needs
    it?
    (2044, writing as Alan Lucysboy)
  • Why I do not miss my penis –
    and nor does anyone else!     (2048, writing as Alan Lucysboy)
  • Much-needed correction: a
    humble appreciation of the first 25 years of the New Society by a
    well-disciplined male     (2051, writing anonymously as ‘Boy – aged
    61’)
  • Pleats and seams – the
    complete guide
    (2056, writing as Alan Elainesboy, Volume 13 in Ironing for Men).
  • What silly boys we were: a
    personal recollection of the Male Liberation movement and its ridiculous
    ideas     (2061,
    writing as Alan Elainesboy).

  • Good for nothing – a last
    testament from a soon-to-be euthanised surplus male     (2068, published posthumously
    as Alan Nobodysboy).

By chance, the last item on this prolific list of
publications was discovered by a worker at the male disposal plant who had read
and greatly enjoyed some of Alan’s later works. 
Accordingly, rather than being boiled down for glue, his body was taken
to King’s College in Cambridge, where he had held a fellowship until 2025.  He was stuffed and mounted in a corner of the
dining hall, where he remains today, in mute testimony to the remarkable
achievement of the New Society in convincing even its most strident critics of
the justice of female supremacy. 

This thesis is concerned with why Alan altered his views so
profoundly in mid-life.  Of course, a
facile answer is “Because he spent over ten years in a re-educational camp
being starved,  whipped, electrocuted and forced to eat excrement”. 
Indeed, a cursory reading of some of his later works, notably Eating Dogshit (2043), would seem to confirm
this.  However, I believe that a closer
examination of his works points to a more fundamental realisation and acceptance of his own
inferiority, and by returning to the original manuscripts of his texts –
including the profoundly moving 20,000 Lines, stained in places with the
philosopher’s own tears – I intend to show that…
…. 
(and so on and so on for another 98,000 words.  I’ll post the rest some time when I have nothing better to do and the Internet really needs another PhD thesis).  

Let’s just finish with the photo appendix.  What do you mean, real PhD theses don’t have photo appendices?  My own thesis, submitted last year, had over 3000 images.  It still rankles that they rejected it.  Call themselves a Women’s Studies department and what do they do when someone submits a thesis that entirely consists of studying women, close up and personal?  They call it ‘porn’.  Oh well.  “Dr Servitor” sounds a bit weird anyway.  Back to Dr Harrietsdaughter’s work:

Plate 10: This photograph, used to illustrate one of Alan’s early works, has
puzzled researchers for years. Captioned merely “The worm that turned”
it appears at first sight to show an ordinary unit of Re-education Corps
Servicewomen going about their work.  However, the Corps was not established until 2030: 11 years
after the book in which it appeared.  Furthermore, the Corpswomen are wearing extremely small shorts, indicating a hot summer day, yet the weather appears to be anything but hot.  Research into the undeleted
fragments of the Male Internet (access permitted under scholastic
exception), associates it only with the phrase “The two Ronnies”, who were presumably early female supremacist thinkers both called Ronald, whose work has now been lost.

Plate 13.  This illustration, from No votes, No voice (2023, restricted access), reproduces a poster widely used by the male resistance.  Titled “The Future Under The New Society”, the poster was presumably intended to alarm males and to encourage them to cast their votes (odd as it is today, to contemplate males voting) for masculinist parties. However, in a classic example of male incompetence, the poster backfired and is credited with boosting the New Society vote by ten percentage points or more among males, who seem to have found the image attractive.  Such self-defeating displays of stupidity were a recurring feature in the male resistance movement, as Alan himself thankfully recorded in What Silly Boys We Were (2061).

 Plate 19: Malcolm Harris. Harris collaborated with Alan on some of his early works, in particular the so-called Men’s Liberation Manifesto (not available for public distribution),
several versions of which circulated secretly among subversive males
around 2030.  Harris believed that only violent action could overthrow
the New Society, leading a party of armed subversives hiding out in the
Yorkshire Dales for over two years, before being betrayed by a
submissive male posing under-cover.  Harris made occasional covert radio
broadcasts, including the famous “Call to Arms” of 2031, which Alan
described as ‘inspiring’ at the time, but later admitted to have been “a
petulant stamp of the foot: a tantrum by a spoilt brat who was
severely overdue for a spanking.”. The photograph shows the former
Harris (renamed ‘Scrub’) some years later.


 Plate
24: This photograph shows ‘Prisoner M847733847 during his years in a
re-educational camp.  Note the penis: in these early years of the New
Society, male re-educational inmates typically retained their penises
and testicles, although in most cases these items became too damaged to
function as a result of the repeated application of increasingly
sophisticated re-educational techniques

The re-educational officer to the right of the Prisoner, Karen Susansdaughter, was by chance a former student of his when he had lectured at Cambridge.  Interviewed in the course of research for this thesis, she cheerfully recalled how pleased she had been to discover him in her cell block, and the many opportunities it provided to reprise their warm disagreements over female supremacist philosophy.  The officer to the left has not been identified but may be the “Anna” whose name was branded onto Alan’s thigh at some point during his stay.

Plate 27: an illustration from Eating Dogshit (2043). Note the  lemon slice on the side of the bowl, which has caused much confusion to historians of the period.  In contrast to some erroneous claims made regarding this image (e.g. Too soft on the bastards? Re-education camps in the early years of the New Society in The United Queendom, Francine Fille-de-Marie (2062)), this does not represent an actual food bowl from Prisoner M847733847’s re-educational camp. Rather, in the second chapter of Eating Dogshit (op .cit.), the author eloquently describes the essential pleasures of drinking a bowl of clean slightly lemony water, presumably after his release, to establish a contrast for the chapters that follow, which describe the experience of being forced to eat dogshit in the detail that is now familiar to generations of male teenagers from compulsory study classes (but are best avoided by female citizens without very strong stomachs).  

These chapters can be envisioned simply through their evocative titles:  “The Smell”, “First Refusal and its Consequences”, “Begging Permission to Eat”, “First Taste”, “Second Refusal and its Consequences”, “The First Mouthful“, “The First Swallow”, “Pleading for Water”, “The Whip”, “The Second Mouthful”, “Chewing”, “Swallowing”, “Vomiting”, “The Whip, once more”, “Re-ingesting”, “Licking the Bowl, “Gratitude”, “Once is not Enough”, “No Easier the Third Time”, “A Weekly Dogshit Day”, “Attempted Suicide”, “My Life is not My Own to Take”, “Grateful Acceptance and Weekly Treats”, “An Aftertaste for Life”.



Plate 28: Alan and his first Responsible Female, Lucy Deborahsdaughter, enjoy a riding holiday in France.  Riding became an increasingly important part of Alan’s life in his Lucysboy period and the couple were a familiar sight around the hills and lanes of West Derbyshire, where they lived.  Alan’s waning strength as he aged led Lucy first to castrate him, in the (mistaken) belief that geldings are stronger and then to sell him on e-bay.  
Although academic institutions bid for him, keen to possess such a well-known figure on the philosophical landscape, Lucy decided in the event on a private sale because, as she put it “the little bastard needs to work for his keep, not laze around on display in a museum”.  His eventual buyer cheerfully admitted that she had never heard of him or read anything he had written – nor indeed ever did she.  But it was to be in Elaine Ruthsdaughter’s laundry room that Alan was finally to discover a philosophy of contentment – and personal happiness at last.
Plate 32: This image, from the frontispiece to Pleats and Seams (2056) shows Alan soon after Elaine Ruthsdaughter became his Responsible Female.  Often treated merely as a practical guide to ironing, of no use to anyone except household sissies, this work can also be read (albeit at the price of extreme tedium for the average citizen, who will never have to iron a pleat in her life) as a subtle and mature work reflecting on how males can find purpose in menial acts that provide some service to the superior sex.  As Helga Fridastochter has written in Spanked, Serving and Satisfied (2072): “There can be few intellectual journeys more inspiring than that of Alan Travis, from the petulant claim in 2019 that men’s self-realisation demanded full participation in the government of society, to Elaine’s happy houseboy, ecstatically recalling her murmur of ‘good boy’ following four hours of work on one of her long pleated skirts that he loved so much.”

If you are not fully satisfied…






Hi, is that Mr Williams?
Oh, good afternoon, Mr Williams.  My name’s Debbie.  I’m with Trading Standards.
No, nothing wrong at all. 
Actually, I’ve got some quite good news for you. We’ve recently prosecuted a company
called A.G. Trading for fraud and as part of the settlement, they are paying
compensation to affected customers. You’re down as having purchased items
regularly from them over the last three years or so, and so you’re due for a
substantial payment.
A. G. Trading. No, I expect you won’t have heard of them,
they operated lots of different front companies.  Let’s see… you’ve made purchases from, erm…
“Mistress Alicia Amazon”, “Sheila’s Stinky Socks” and “Patricia the Piss
Queen”, is that right?
No?  Oh.
Are you sure?  “Harold
Williams, number 73 Park Road, Guildford”? 
Credit card number 5847 624 – Oh, OK.  So that is
you? Great.
Yes, it’s easy to forget these things.
So, the fraud concerned a number of different product lines
but all in the category of ‘used and worn items’, you see, Mr Williams.  Mostly lingerie, socks, shoes and boots –
that kind of thing.  Tampons and sanitary
towels too, but I don’t see any purchases like that on your record.
Anyway, the whole thing was a scam, I’m afraid.  The proprietor, Mr Patel, and his family
mostly just wore the items themselves. 
Some of them were shipped over from India – seems there’s quite a little
business going on pre-soiling items for masturbatory purposes out there.
There’s a whole village where it sounds like everyone’s walking around in
lingerie and high heels just to get the smells in.  And I’m afraid the only person pissing in
Patricia’s panties was Mr Patel’s cousin Rajesh.
Yes, it’s shocking isn’t it? 
Mr Patel made over £20 million out of it, before we got involved – can
you believe that?  All by exploiting
lonely, desperate sad little men.
No offence.
Anyway, if I can just run through the purchases we’ve got
here we can sort out your claim?
So: I’ve got nine pairs of worn panties, three of them
pissed in, a pair of scuffed trainers, two pairs of boots, eleven pairs of
socks, two bras and a sweat-stained top, is that right?  For a total expenditure of £3,540.  
Hmm?
No, you don’t have to produce the items, Mr Williams.  We have all the records here.  Anyway, some of these purchases go back over
three years. I don’t suppose you’d have kept them around all this time, would you?  That would be –
Have you?  Gosh.
Erm… even the items from ‘Patricia the Piss Queen’…?
Wow.
Oh-kay!
Anyway, that’s not necessary, Mr Williams.  Actually, you should probably dispose of the
items.  Especially those you ordered
from, erm, ‘Patricia’.  Our colleagues in
Health and Safety say they probably don’t meet EU hygiene standards.
Did you?  Oh, I voted
Remain myself.  Still, EU or no EU, it’s
probably not a good idea to keep that sort of thing around, Mr Williams. You might want to go for a health check.
Now, I’ll send you a claim form, and you just have to fill
it in and send it straight back and we’ll arrange for your compensation, as son
as we can.
Hmm?  Oh, it depends
on how much is recovered by the auditors. 
Should be at least a third of what you paid, though – over £1000, I
expect!  Quite a nice little windfall,
isn’t it?  You could go out and treat
yourself to something nice, like…
…erm…
Erm… well, anything you like, really.   Not my business to ask!
Now, Mr Williams, is there anything you’d like to ask me?
I’m sorry, what’s that?
Erm… no, I’d rather not, if you don’t mind, Mr
Williams.  I just… well, I just buy things for
my own use then I wash them or throw them away, you know? 
That’s what most people do.  Anyway, Trading Standards Officers aren’t allowed to conduct private business, so…
No – no problem at all! 
To be honest, you’re not the only person who’s asked since I started
this assignment! 
No, I’m not going to tell you what colour they are, Mr
Williams.  Goodbye now!
No, Mr Williams. 
That’s private.  Goodbye, Mr Williams!

Eugh!

Eugh eugh EUGH!

Dave, can you do my next call?  I’ve got to go and wash my face.
And can we PLEASE swap? Honestly, I’d so much rather deal with VAT fraud. You wouldn’t believe how much I’d like to deal with VAT fraud.

Sometimes you need a little help

Hi there!  Amdigames
in-game help, Sara here!  What can I help
you with?

Er… no, sir, I guess all our male helpers are busy with
other callers.  And also, that’s just a
little sexist. I am entirely familiar with all our –

Sure, OK.  No
problem.  So: what game have you been
playing?

Virtual Girlfriend 3.0? 
Oh-kay!  Let me just load that up
for you.  And are you playing the
parentally blocked version, or the adult edition?  Oh-kay.

So… menu screen… full adult. 
Do you have kind of sex toys plugged in or are you just using…

Your hand?  What do
you mean, you’re using your – oh I see. No, I actually meant what game controller are you
using.  I’ll just put mouse and keyboard.

OK, and can you tell me which virtual girl you chose?  Oooh, Suki! OK. 

So what’s the problem?

She won’t what, sorry? ‘Put out’?

Oh, I see.  OK, hold
on. What level are you on?  Cos like for
the first few levels, you’re just wooing them and it’s only on level three that
they –

Level six?  OK,
that’s weird.  She should be putting out everything she’s got by then, no question.  And did she, er…, ‘put out’
on the earlier levels?  No?

OK.  Let’s see.  I’ll just run through a quick script to shortcut through to … OK, so I’m on
level six, and I’ve poured her a drink and Suki says… what does Suki say, hang on…
Suki says she wants to run her hot
tongue up and down my throbbing love piston. 
She also says her pussy is soaking with carnal desire. 

You got the same dialogue? No? What does she say on yours?

She’s ‘got a headache’? 
Hmm… That’s really not supposed to happen. Is your avatar still wearing
clothes?  OK, try dropping your
pants.  Let her see your, erm… ‘throbbing
love piston’.

She’s what?  She’s laughing?  What kind of laughing? Laughing funny, or laughing hysterically, or laughing like – I dunno.  How’s she laughing?

She’s ‘laughing like the girls always laugh’?  OK.  You know, sir, I’m not sure what you mean by that.  But I think it sounds like Suki
might be a little glitched there.  Maybe
we could try a different girl?  Can you
go back to the menu page?

Yeah, just choose any of them.  You should see 24.

Only three?  OK, well, just choose one of them, I guess.

Amber?  OK, sure.  So, you click on Amber and you should see her
phone number.  And then you’re gonna call
her, and Amber’s gonna get all hot just at the sound of your voice and then –

She hung up on you?

OK, well you can still visit her apartment.  You know – you can get these stealth skills,
so you can sneak into girls’ apartments and hide in their closets as long as
your stealth skill is at level 3 or above, so –

 – your stealth skill
is at level 19?  Wow.  I didn’t know it went up that high.  You must really like sneaking around in
girls’ erm… anyway!  That’s great. So –
let’s break into Amber’s apartment and see if we can surprise her undressing or
something.  (euw)

You in? OK?  So what’s
Amber doing?

What do you mean, she’s not there? She has to be there.  She’s just a few lines of code in a game, she
doesn’t get to decide to go out and do something else…

Nowhere to be seen? Are you sure? 

OK, well look sir, I’m really sorry.  I don’t know what the heck has gone wrong
with your game, but we can send you a voucher that you can use to purchase any
of our – what?

She left a pair of stinky trainers and her bin is full of
used tampons? OK, well like I said sir, I’m really sorry that this has happened
and –

Fine? What do you mean, it’s fine?

Sir?

Sir?

Sir I’m still online here and I can hear you.  If you wouldn’t mind putting the phone down
before you… before you finish what you’re doing I’d appreciate it.  Only we’re not allowed to terminate the call
ourselves you see, and –

Oh gross. Oh I so hate my job.

Hhhhhhmmm.

Sir?
Sir?

Oh, hi?  So… Sara
still here… Amdigames?  Can I take it
you’re now OK with your game?

Great.  And… ermm… I
have to ask, were you satisfied with the way this call went?

‘Entirely satisfied’. 
Yeah, I kind of guessed that.  OK,
well, I’ll say goodbye then and … go off and have a shower or something.

Wait!  I did not say
that!  You are NOT to think about me
having a shower, because –

Damn, you’ve gone.

EUUUGGHHH!  That was so….  Oh, YUK!

Hey Tony, can I take a five minute break?  I need to wash.  Like, really thoroughly.  Then I’d like to go back to the MMO section,
if I can?  I miss the days of telling
nerds they need more strength to lift their orc-cleavers.

Fiction: Boundaries

[There’s a general disclaimer to the right over there about the factual accuracy of this blog (zero), but just for the avoidance of doubt – and because I would never, ever want to put someone off taking that step of contacting a pro-domme for the first time – let me just emphasise that this is a work of total fiction, and utter nonsense.  OK?  OK then.]

 





My new project?  Yes, sure.  I can talk about that.  Yes, it’s actually quite exciting.  In a way, what I’m trying to do here is push
the bounds of femdom – or rather push beyond the bounds that have traditionally
defined it, if you see what I mean.
So much of femdom is clichéd and stereotypical, don’t you think? Especially in the pro-domme space.  So
I’ve always tried to experiment, but until recently it was always still basically within those same
bounds.  But what I’ve been trying lately
with some of my more experienced clients is more… holistic, in a way.  Kind of edgy and experimental, but there’s a
thrill to it too.
An example? Sure. 
Erm… well, suppose I’ve got a client who’s into humiliation. He likes to
prance around in a maid’s costume and I’ll order him about and I’ll find fault
with everything he does and punish him, then send him home happy, OK?  And that’s fine – it’s a fun way to
play.  But what do you do when you’ve
played that same session a hundred times? 
Well – what about all of the time when he’s not in session?  How about playing the same game – very same game – there?   
So, I
got him to start telling me more about his life and his work and all of that,
and one day I took a stroll around the hard drive of his laptop while he was
tied down upstairs.  And I started
looking through this Powerpoint show he’d made on his computer for an important
client meeting the next day –



 – well, yes, it is a true story, actually.  
Anyway, I expect you’re thinking I’m going to say I put in
pictures of him in his maid’s outfit or whatever, to humiliate him in public?
And I was thinking of that, but then I thought – well, that’s really just
another femdom cliché, isn’t it?  Let’s
try something different!  So I just
fucked around with it a bit: putting in spelling mistakes, changing some of the
calculations so they didn’t add up.  Put
in the name of a different company, to make it look like he’d recycled a
presentation for someone else.  That kind
of thing.
So the next session I asked him all about it and he just
poured out this tale of humiliation and shame! 
He’d lost the contract and his boss had spent the whole afternoon
shouting at him in front of the whole office. 
I got a fit of the giggles to be honest, but he was quite upset.  So I pointed out that he’d been thoroughly
humiliated – at my hands – and wasn’t that something to be grateful for?
Hmm?  Was he
grateful?  Well, no.  Not at first. Actually he stormed off.  But when he got back in touch wheedling to
see me again, I made it a condition that this was something I was going to be
working into the play from now on, so if he wanted ever to see me again, he had
to accept it.
Yeah, sure, he still comes for sessions.  Not as often as he used to. He’s been sacked
from a couple of jobs now, so his income’s a lot less than it was. Plus, my
fees have gone up so it’s a lot less affordable all round.  But he still sessions when he can.
Anyway, that was the start. 
I do still play games in session. 
I’ll dress in leather and I’ll spank and I’ll dress the clients in
humiliating clothing and all the rest of it. 
But I insist on more commitment than that too.  So – yes, I can spank your bottom.  But I’m also going to insist that before our
next session you break your arm.  Yes,
you can clean out my toilet.  But you’re
also going to be getting an evening job cleaning public urinals. Yes, you can
have a bondage session.  But you can also
spend your summer holiday chained up in your back yard, eating raw
potatoes.  Yes, I can stomp on your
fingers. But I’m also going to run your foot over, in my car.  That kind of vibe.
Is he wearing a mask because he’s playing a role? Or because his face is marked with cigarette burns?  And if so – isn’t that just another role, really?

It can get pretty edgy. Like, last year I finally tried out
something I’ve wanted to do for a long time and got a client sent to
prison.  I helped him beat this other
client of mine with a baseball bat, and then he got arrested and sentenced to six
months.  If you can get into the right
headspace for it, that would be quite a trip, right?
Hmm? Is he what?
Oh, is he in the right headspace? I don’t know.  He’s only done four months, so far.  I’ll find out when he books his first session
after being released, I suppose.  When he
comes out I’m thinking of setting up a revenge beating – you know, reversing
the roles?  But don’t print that: it’s
going to be a surprise for both of them.
This is not a prison scene. There are no beautiful blonde warders spanking your bottom in prison – but there are people who might put glass into your food.  Are you ready for that?
Do they enjoy it? 
Hmm.  You know, I’m not sure
that’s really the right question. Sure, you can visit a pro-domme and get
slapped around and spat on, and that’s going to be fun, yeah?  But is it enough?  Really? Is it creative, is it radical, are
you pushing the bounds?  I sometimes
think life is nothing more than the experiences we have and the goal is to have
as many experiences and as varied an experiential journey as possible.  And if you’ve – say – find yourself naked
and alone in the back streets of Johannesburg without a wallet or a passport…
well, maybe you won’t ‘enjoy it’ as such.  In fact, you’ll probably hate every moment. 
But you’ll certainly have something to remember, won’t you?
Hmm?  Yeah, exactly
that. I’ve done it twice actually.  And I’ve tried it
in Caracas too, but that didn’t work out so well.
No, I don’t want to talk about that. It was a bit upsetting. I
shouldn’t have said anything.  Move on.
So you’d eat the ash from my cigarette in session… but would you lick out the public ashtray at the entrance to your office building?  You don’t know?  Then maybe we should find out.


Where can I take this next? OK – now that is a good question.  But I’m not going to give too much
away!  As you can imagine, surprise for
the clients is a big part of this whole scene. 
Plus I haven’t worked out all of the details, to be quite honest.  But one idea I’m really excited about is taking medical scene femdom
out there into the real world.  I’ve been
reading up on some medical web sites – and I’ll admit I’ve had a little help
from a client with medical qualifications too! –  and I think I’ve got a few ideas.  I’ve started a couple of things with one or two clients
already, by spiking their drinks, but they won’t have noticed anything yet, as it takes the symptoms a
while to emerge.  Actually, one of them
called me today to delay his next session, because he thought he had some kind
of cold coming on, but actually that’s the more serious symptoms just beginning to
manifest themselves.  He’ll notice soon that it’s not just a cold.  Anyway, we’ll
see.  They’re both going to experience a
lot of pain and some quite significant permanent damage to several major
organs, so… it’ll be quite intense.
And I’ve a few more things planned too, in the medical
area.  Like – lots of people with
incurable diseases think to themselves ‘why me?’, you know?  So how’s that going to feel if you know the
reason why you’ve got just six months to live, or whatever, hmm?  If you know who did that to you?  And how are they going to serve me, how are
they going to relate to me in those last few months?  
I don’t think it’ll be easy for either of us.
Brutal?  Yeah… yeah I  can’t argue with that.  It’s brutal.  But life’s brutal too, isn’t it? I mean, we can kid ourselves that everything’s fine, but with all the suffering that’s going on in the world, don’t we have a duty to be exploring where femdom fits into all of that?  I think my art – and yes it is an art – should mirror reality in all its horror.  You see pictures of those awful boats full of refugees, sinking in the Mediterranean and what do you do? You switch channels, you look away, maybe you give a donation on the way into your comfortable office the next day.  But me, I see a former foot-slave of mine called Simon, who took what he thought was going to be a holiday trip to Tunisia with me, and whose body was washed up onto a remote beach on Malta last month.  So don’t talk to me about brutality.  I’ve been there.

Sorry. That got a bit heavy.  But… this is my life, you know?  It’s what I live every day and it’s important that I keep on going, pushing the boundaries, seeing where I can take this thing I’ve dedicated my life to.
What’s that?  Yeah,
I’m still accepting new slaves.  I’m
quite choosy and I’m very particular about who I see.  But if any of your readers would like to meet
me in session they can go to the web site and respectfully – respectfully –
fill out the form.  Don’t worry about all
of the stuff I’ve been talking about here. 
We’ll just play within the usual femdom boundaries until… well, until I’ve
decided you’re ready to move on.  Some
never are. And if you are lucky enough to be taken there… then you’ll be a part
of my life journey, won’t you?  And I
think any true submissive would be happy with that.

[Once again, this is a work of total fiction.  Mistress Eleise, whose pictures grace and magically improve this depraved little tale, is the most professional, careful and thoughtful mistress imaginable.  She is very choosy indeed about her slaves – that bit is actually true – but if you are granted the privilege of meeting her, you won’t regret it.]

…and you can spend more time in the office!

Two short pieces about office life that were just too long to work as captions.

Recognition

OK! Yeah! Great! Thanks, Mike. Now the prize for the idea that most contributed to the company’s success… well, we didn’t need to think too long about this one! I guess you all know the story? One of our biggest Chinese suppliers really screwed up and sent us three months supply of babywear in sizes, like, six or seven times too big? I don’t know what they were thinking – centimetres and inches? Even that doesn’t really do it. Do they have, like, six foot tall babies in China? Anyway, they went bankrupt so I guess no one will ever know.

So there we were, right? Three months stock – plastic pants, dresses, dummies, baby reins – and none of it was going to fit any baby that ever lived! But cometh the hour, cometh the man. One employee who heard about the trouble – a guy who didn’t even work in our babywear divison – sent an anonymous email to marketing with the idea that saved the company, right? And you all know what happened then.

And today our fetishwear division is the most profitable in the company! Yeah! Those humiliation freaks will pay any kind of margins we set for our stuff – they can’t get enough of it. Oh – and have I mentioned we’re about to launch a very exciting range of lockable sissy clothing?

OK. OK. Yeah! Great. OK, settle down because now I’ve got a surprise for you.

Our guys in IT have been working to trace that anonymous email. Because this company believes that great contributions need to be recognised – in public! – and rewarded. And, I guess, because we’d all love to hear how he even got the idea!

And he’s here today… so are you going to come up here and take a bow, Mr Anonymous? Or do I have to ‘out’ you, huh?

C’mon, don’t be so modest! Take a bow and take the credit! You deserve it!

Mr 49 year-old Anonymous… from the Cleveland office… 

Conditions of service

OK, yeah, it is ‘that’ Mark Lewis. And listen, if you don’t want to work with him, I’d respect that. Especially after suffering all that sexual harassment in your last job – anyone would be angry with sexually predatory men after that.

But let me tell you a few things about Mark, OK – a few things other than that he stole all those panties from his co-workers and was caught masturbating into a shoe. First off, right, he’s a really great coder and the most painstaking worker in the division. He’ll pull an all-nighter whenever needed, just checking through the code, without complaining. We need our products to be bug-free from the moment they go out the door, and it’s hard to find that kind of dedication.

Secondly, you know about the agreement he had to sign, right?

Yeah, sure, he’s wearing a steel tube. That’s part of it. Everyone knows about that part. But do you know about the behavioural conditions?

Well, Mark has to demonstrate respect for his female co-workers in all his interactions. And it’s up to them how they make him demonstrate that. So, for example, some of his co-workers make him stand to the side with his nose pressed up against a wall when they walk past, others make him apologise for being a pantie-stealing pervert at the start of every meeting – that kind of thing.

So as his new boss you’d –

What? Yeah, sure, anything you like, I guess. I mean, obviously if he really didn’t want to do it he could resign… but he’s 56 and all his healthcare and pension are here, you know, so… pretty much anything goes, I guess.

Do you need some time to think about it?

Of course, I should probably emphasise that you couldn’t make him do anything actually illegal or hazardous to his health… I’ll just make a note that we discussed that at this meeting, OK? But as long as that’s understood, can I take it you’re on board to take on the role of his supervisor?

Great. I’ll call him in to tell him the good news.

Final edits




So, Mr Poole, we’re all really excited here about your
novel.  It’s going to be huge –
absolutely huge.  It just… well, it just
speaks to that kind of nameless angst we all have, you know?  Draws you in from the very first page.
Brilliant.
Anyway, hope you won’t take this amiss, but it’s my job to
make a few suggestions about style, here and there?  Just – you know – in a first novel it’s often
hard to judge just what the reader will find in something you wrote.
I mean, I have very little to suggest on this one,
obviously. I don’t want to interfere with your distinctive voice.  But there were a few passages where I felt you
could convey your meaning a bit, well, a bit more succinctly…
Like what? Oh, well… erm… when Peter first sees Julie, at
the concert.  I mean, it’s brilliant,
obviously, that scene.  It’s like you’ve
taken a photograph of Julie as he sees her and you’re just playing it into the
reader’s mind a few lines at a time from the very top… her hair, her necklace, her top, her skirt… and then her
shoes.  Yeah.
Actually it’s the
shoes.  I just thought… you know, you’ve
done from the top of her head to her ankles in about a page, so then three
pages just on the shoes… It just seems…
Yeah!  A bit
much!  Exactly.  Just a little too long!  And then again, on their third date, when she
comes back to his apartment.  When she takes off her shoes, the way you’ve written it, it’s erm… the reader’s attention might wander a
bit after the first page or so, that’s all.
Oh – yes, and much later on, during the Raquel episode, where Julie’s furious with him and she
goes running, really pushing herself hard? 
And she gets back to her place and she’s run herself so hard that she’s
sweated stains right through her trainers? 
I mean, that is such a brilliant image! 
Of her rage, you know, just expressing itself but then emerging in kind of a tawdry way.  But, you know, once the
point’s been made, once the image is there, you could move on rather faster.  I mean, at the end of that section I felt
like I knew every millimetre of her sweaty trainers!  Every stitch, every shade of every sweat stain… Like my face had been pressed right up
against them for pages and pages… not a very pleasant image!  I mean, really.  Is it?
Ahem.
Moving on… anyway, there’s one more thing we have to talk about. Quite embarrassing!  Yeah – that’s right: I’m afraid it’s
the sex scene! Sorry… just doing my job. 
Look – don’t worry about it, OK? 
I mean everybody finds it hard to write a really convincing sex scene.
I just thought… the change of mood was really weird and I didn’t quite get why
you did it.  I mean, it was so heavy
and moody and then suddenly it’s more like farce as if you’re playing it for laughs, and –
What do I mean?
Oh.  Well… take this
bit. “Slowly drawing her hand back from his unbuckled belt, Julie gasped in
silent awe as four inches of manhood rose to sway proudly in front of her.  ‘Be gentle’ she whispered, wanting the full
experience of this behemoth, yet at the same time dreading – “ anyway, you get
the point?  I mean why play it for
laughs?
Isn’t it? Oh. I thought it was funny. 
Erm… no, I don’t think I know why.  I just thought it was, erm… funny.  Doesn’t matter.
Anyway!  Later, she’s … well, she’s getting…the full four
inches, right, and she starts giggling a bit, then laughs out loud, just at the
point when he… when he climaxes.  That’s
fine, obviously.  But then later they’re
talking in bed and they both say what a great orgasm they’ve had and – I didn’t
really get that bit.  I mean, she didn’t
have an orgasm, did she? She just laughed at him.
What do you mean, that was the orgasm?
Oh.  Oh, right.
So later, when Peter has a fling with Raquel and he unzips
his pants and she just laughs straight off the moment she sees his… his full
four inches, that’s – ?
Right.  OK.  I misunderstood that. On the first reading.
Fine.
So!  You might just
want to take those thoughts and just, you know… maybe a few short
rewrites.  Actually, if you could get it
from the 90,000 words it is now down to less than eighty that would be really
good.  It’s a better size for the
booksellers. Losing 10,000 words sounds like a lot, but actually I reckon you
could get that just from trimming the bits about ladies’ shoes. Maybe more.
Brilliant!  So –
what’s next?  Amanda told me that you
mentioned you’re already working on a second novel. That’s really
exciting!  Good for the marketing too,
actually.  Got a title you can share with
us?
“Sales incentives?” 
Oooh!  What’s that about?  Yeah? 
Life and loves of the owner of a high street shop, eh? Falling for one
after another of his lady customers, I expect, if he’s anything like
Peter!  Sounds great!
So what does he sell? What sort of shop is it?  Oh hang on – on second thoughts, don’t tell
me.  Let me see if I can guess.

Changing shifts







Oh hi George, that you?
Hmm? No, I wouldn’t say she’s in a particularly bad mood
today.  This is my own fault really –
stacked the towels in the wrong order again. 
You know how it is. Eighty minutes, eight strokes, then another eighty
minutes.  Could be worse.  I had quite a light shift, actually.  A few with the strap and a couple of sesssions of kneeling punishment.  Quite a relief after last time, I can tell you.
Nothing much to report. 
There’s some of her friend Julie’s laundry in, to be ready for
5.30.  And she wanted me to do the
kitchen, so the bathroom’s still to do, OK?
Oh by the way, we’re a bit short on washing up liquid, so
try and go easy on it, will you?  My
shift starts at 6am tomorrow, so I won’t have a chance to buy any more until
Thursday.  Wouldn’t want to earn any more
demerit points, not this close to the end of the month. And you know how she is about the washing up, especially when she’s having a party.
Oh – hasn’t she said?  Yes, this Saturday.  I expect she’ll tell you today, because we’re both going to be on duty, I think.  Trevor’s going to be setting up, then you and
I are doing maid service and clean up.  House inspection 9am Sunday, then we get the rest of the day off if it’s all satisfactory.  With two of us working overnight that should be all right.  It’s the Saturday evening I’m worried about, to tell the truth.  I
heard her mention that that vicious little cow Marianne’s going to be
there.  You remember?  The one who made us all dance with those
weights attached at New Year.  So we
might be in for rather a rough time, I’m afraid. Glad it’s not just going to be
me.
Ermm… listen, old boy. 
You couldn’t do me a favour and straighten my stocking tops could
you?  You’d be saving me four strokes at
least.  No need for her to know, eh?
Oh come on, George. 
I’d do the same for you, you know I would.
OK, well I understand. 
You’re probably right. She does always seem to find these things out,
doesn’t she? We’ll just forget I said anything.
You, ermm… you won’t tell her I asked you, will you? I mean, I know we’re supposed to tell her about any rule infractions, but… you know.  Honour among maids and all that.  Hmm?
George?
George, are you still there?

Post-production




The most successful Cruella video? Oh, gotta be Drowning in
piss.  Seen it have you?  Yeah, just about everyone has.  It’s funny, ‘cos it actually all came about
by accident.  The sub was supposed to
have this little tube between his cheek and his jaw, so he could keep breathing
even when we shoved piss-sodden panties into his mouth and blocked his nostrils
up with used tampons.  But the silly
fucker had put in in the wrong way round so it didn’t work.
It took him quite a while to die, though.  I mean, what you see there as we take the
panties out of his mouth and ‘refresh’ them, then shove em back in while he’s
still gasping in air – that’s all real. 
We thought he was just acting of course – and it was odd ‘cos he’s
always been fucking hopeless as an actor before.  We didn’t realise until his fourth pantie-change,
about half an hour in, when there was a tea break, and we left him gagged up… with the camera on, so
we could get some footage of him writhing around. Then when we came back –
well… you know. 
We were a bit worried, but the police came round and when
they saw the contract he’d signed, and we showed them the little tube and how
the little fucker could perfectly well have put it in the right well round and
he’d still be alive, the fucking moron, well they said it was just an
industrial accident.
And we were going to destroy the tape (this was before
digital, see) but then Caroline said “Well, why not release it?  We could make some money and some good could
come of all of this.”  So we put it on
the market, and of course it was one of the very few absolutely legal snuff
movies out there, so it started selling better than anything else we’d got.

And actually, it was when his ex-wife sued for a share of the
profits that we really hit the big time, ‘cos it was in all the papers. For a
while there, it was outselling all our other titles put together.  She was a nasty old cow, she was.  Kept trying to get us to settle, but we had
these really good lawyers (they were subs, so we didn’t have to pay them) and
the judge took our side.  Knew perfectly
well what would happen to him at his next session if he didn’t, didn’t he?  Anyway, the video sold out and we had all our
copying machines working 24/7 producing more of them.  Made a killing.  You know, he’s dying for about – oh 32
minutes or so? – on-screen. From when we first shoved the panties in to when
the coroner reckoned he’d become brain-dead. Well, one of my slaves who’s an
accountant worked out that he earned us £1650 for every second he was dying.  Got myself a fur coat – and a sports car.
A bit sad? I don’t see why, to be perfectly honest. 
I mean, he was much more valuable dying in agony like that than
continuing to live his sad little life. 
Gave a lot of people a lot of pleasure.  And his wife didn’t like him at all – she just wanted some money,
grasping old cow.  And there’s lots of
subs around, aren’t there?  I mean,
I know it sounds a bit dismissive, but really, there are.  You can’t get upset about losing
just one of them like that.  Wouldn’t
normally notice, even.  But he got
famous, even got noticed by quite a few dominant women, didn’t he?  They dream of that, don’t they? 

Subs.  We remember him – can’t say that about many subs.

Hmm? Oh… it’s err… do you know I’ve forgotten?
‘Trevor’, ‘Terry’ maybe.  Some sort of
sub name like that.  ‘Robin’.  That kind of thing, anyway.  Maybe ‘Michael’.


Does it matter?




The part of the callous dominatrix in this heartwarming tale was played (in about 1983, I think) by the lovely Linda Leigh, who is probably not at all like this in real life, but really nice and kind. Although I hope she isn’t.

Extra service




Hello, Business Answers?  Natalie speaking. How can I help?
No, this isn’t actually the Chesham AB Nursery.  We’re a business answering service.  The person you’re trying to contact… errr
‘Nanny Stern’?  She’s busy so she’s
switched all calls to us.  But I have a
menu here I can take you through to try to process your call, if that’s any
help at all?
An appointment? 
Sure.  Tuesday week… not looking
good.  Maybe Thursday?  Thursday. 
4 – 6 pm OK for you?
Fine… now I need to take some details for the booking.  Do you have a customer code?  Got it.  Right – there you are.  Mr Franks,
yes?
So…last time, you had… let’s see.  Bedwetting, smacked bottom and nappy
humiliation?  That OK for you this time
too?
Fine.  Well that’s all
booked for you.  Thursday week, 4pm.
Now, Mr Franks, as you’re on the line, I wonder if I could
talk to you about insurance on behalf of one of our other clients?  You see, these days many people don’t
properly provide for – 
Mr Franks?  I’m sorry,
I don’t think I heard that, I – 
Mr Franks?
Mr Franks?
Well, that was a bit rude.
Insurance…let’s see, we’ll call that ‘unsure’.
And back with Chesham AB Nursery, let’s see what we can do
about that rude word shall we Mr Foulmouth Franks? … Hmm… 
‘mouthsoaping’. Perfect.  Oooh: caning too!  Well, why not?  How many?… oh I
don’t know. Why’s it all in sixes? 
12.  No, let’s have 24.
And we’ll schedule a follow-up call about the insurance for
the day after.
Done.
Hello, Business Answers?  Natalie speaking. How can I help?
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