Thirty years of hurt (but this time with Lionesses)

So, after all these years of being told that football’s just a silly game in which a bunch of moronic boys chase a ball around in a field and surely I’m not asking to be allowed to put the ironing off just to watch that nonsense, apparently it’s a remarkable display of female skill, grace and power. Who knew? Well, my SO did, obviously, and now I do because she’s told me and that’s that.

Personally I’m not so much interested in the football itself as in the players’ muddy boots and sweaty socks in the fact that we are now officially all allowed to cheer ourselves silly(er) for a team called ‘The Lionesses’. That I do like, rather a lot.

It’s coming home. Unless the Lionesses lose on Sunday, obviously, in which case it’s going somewhere else. [UPDATE: They did. It is.]

Anyway, back to the depressing porn.

He did start by getting down on one knee, but it wasn’t enough.
I find the most effective humiliation scenes are the unexpected ones – for instance, when you think you’re just going on a vanilla date, but the woman intuitively senses that you’re into humiliation, so mocks and belittles you in front of your friends, then slaps you and walks off laughing, leaving you to pay the bill. Yeah, that’s a good one. How do they know?
She has some lederhosen for you, seeing as you’ve expressed such an interest in leather.
See how Mistress Vixen is keeping a straight back, there? That’s very important: it’s so easy to develop back problems in later life if you don’t sit right. Very sensible.

I have posted this before, but ‘too few’ is always the number of times I have done that, so here’s the lovely Mistress Vixen playing the piano.

Yeah, you can relax now the ceremony’s over and just enjoy the honeymoon – and the rest of your life.

Warning: immature content

 Don’t proceed past this point if you’re offended by implicit sexual imagery.

 

Some women won’t even let men know they’re upset.  I’m glad she’s being so forthright.




I think she’d be good at humiliation play, don’t you?  She could build on her knowledge of real clients who want real sex – and draw a few sharp comparisons.




It’s a natural gift.  That and practice.  And a lot of Gaviscon, if I’m honest with myself.


Actually, this reminds me of yet another depressing contrast between fantasy and reality I encountered in one of the very first times I sessioned with a domme, having been too nervous to do so, for many years.  (NB: don’t be like this guy!  Contact a domme!  It’ll be lovely; she’ll be lovely!).  With the wonderful lady, now retired, who stars as ‘Mistress Valerie’ in my early stories.  ANY-way, so back then she smoked (then she gave up – clever, strong Mistress).  So I did the human ashtray thing – wow, yeah, ash flicked into my mouth!  Oh the humiliation!  And then she gave me a near-finished cigarette butt to eat, and eager Servitor chewed and swallowed and… and… spent the remaining hour of that two hour session, with stomach churning, heart racing from the nicotine and generally feeling like he would soooo rather be somewhere else.  Oh well.  Did it once.  Thank you, Mistress. 



Rather like other much-maligned minorities, lesbians who happen to have jobs that involve castrating men often lean into the stereotype by embracing the otherwise offensive phrase.  One of Jennifer’s co-workers likes to wear a badge saying “Warning: castrating lesbian”.  It breaks the ice at parties and she does get served very quickly in bars. But she also has to explain to women who are annoyed with their husbands or boyfriends that she can only do it within the legal framework… unless they’re really cute wives and and girlfriends, in which case she’s been known to make an exception.



No, I just wanted to spend a few more seconds staring into those eyes…




Confidently supreme


She doesn’t like ‘torturess’ either.  It’s sexist. Like a woman can’t torture people just as well as a man, you know? Better, even.  So don’t call her that.  Call her… oh I don’t know. Something respectful, I’d suggest. Very respectful.






‘You’re a taxi!’  It’s an old joke, but I like to make my date laugh.  Often, the evening together ends with her leaving my apartment almost hysterical with laughter. In fact, I bumped into an old flame the other day and she started giggling as soon as she saw me.

No problem. That’s what Kenny is here for.  He pays handsomely for the privilege, after all.

I wouldn’t mind, but I read that book before, counting ‘the’ for another Mistress.
 This is the wonderful Lady Sophia Black, who is if anything even more wonderful in person than Her online persona (which is very, very wonderful indeed).
Hmmm.  She seems to have mostly disapppeared from the Internet.  Now that is a loss.
Choking on someone else’s vomit?  Unpleasant but, well, you know, Her kink is not your kink. Or anyone’s.
Mistress Cassie Hunter, the Hunteress, who seems not to have retired after all.  So that’s a bit better.
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