Stories and pictures themed around female domination and male subjugation and servitude. Unsuitable for children, for alpha males, for hard-core practitioners with an interest in the politics of bdsm and the mechanics of complicated rope work. Of interest to perverts like me, basically.
It’s another science fiction special. Now you might object that we just had a science fiction special and for once you’d be right (well done you!) but I’ve just written a tonne* of sci-fi captions, a great many featuring Seven of Nine, so we’re going to be having a lot of them. And in honour of everyone’s favourite Borg, we’ll have seven captioned images each time. Got to get them out there somehow.
Also, I do have a World War M post ready but given there’s quite a lot of actual war around, I think perhaps we’ll keep that on hold for now.
*That’s slightly more than a ton.
You might expect her to add that this is going to hurt her more than it will hurt him, but her programming prevents her from lying.
Goodness, the Borg are so much more advanced than us even in plumbing. Resistance is indeed futile… where can I surrender, please, Ma’am?
If it would be completely unethical to enslave billions of people, then presumably it would only be a tiny fraction as unethical to enslave just one… or even a few.
Realism is overrated, which is why I write this blog.
I wonder whether the local culture has developed any techniques for dealing with this situation? Implements, even.
She’s appalled at the waste. It’s like throwing away perfectly good chocolate spread.
The 70s was a difficult time and many people say that its sci-fi reflected that, featuring a lot of dystopian, dark visions of the future but in these TV shows at least, I see nothing but optimism that things might turn out OK. Too optimistic, if anything: that’s Space 1999 down in the bottom right: if only 1999 had been like that. Everywhere, I mean, not just a few select locations in most major cities and a large estate on the outskirts of Černá, Czech Republic.
Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to get used to it.
She and Sister Amy often struggle together with their vows of chastity. And I’m afraid it has to be admitted that the vows of chastity don’t usually win. But they’re young, they have years ahead of them to become more experienced in their nunnery’s ways.
Hurry up – imagine how awful she’d feel if she accidentally caused you a serious spinal injury, just because you were dawdling?
My SO had her beauty therapist look at my facial bruises one day. She said they were really nicely done.
Fans of this lovely lady may wish to watch her dancing as Wednesday, here. I mean, it’s not femdom or anything but it’s very… ummm… well, it’s just very. I believe that is the original, but I have to say I prefer the version set to Joy Division. But then, I is Bri-ish, innit?
Don’t worry: when she finally lets you go, you’ll feel very happy about that.
He initially denied taking any inappropriate photos, which is a bit foolish when there’s a photographic record and near-suicidally reckless when there’s both a photographic record and a very angry Madame Šárka.
Between the chores, privileges and of course those ‘little kindnesses’ she so likes you to show her, the day can get quite busy.
Whe nshe got there, she realised that of course they weren‘t there – she’d put them in the cellar. She was dreadfully embarrassed, poor thing.
Oh, I hope she’s not going to chat for long. I get so socially awkward in these situations.
Thank goodness. If there’s one thing every men’s group needs, it’s a woman’s guidance. Otherwise the conversation can go in all sorts of unproductive directions. Men can achieve so much when they are all working to a common purpose – imposed by a woman, obviously. Just see how much a chain gang can get done, for instance, given the proper motivation not to slack off.
At least four of them played suspiciously badly… almost as if they wanted to be, to be… no, that’s ridiculous.
Sonme of us want that even less than others. But we’re not the decisive half of ‘us’.
Actually, guys with small penises have proportionately more everything. My little finger, for instance, is huge in comparison – a woman remarked upon it, once.
They’re reworking the pay structure too, to make it more discriminatory.
Zoe’s good at games, usually winning on the first move when she plays slaves at chess. She also enjoys playing ‘guess the voltage’.
I expect he’ll come up with some lavish belated gift or other… she can even make some suggestions while she has his full attention like this.
Of course it’s best to wear thick gloves when handling that X stuff as it can irritate the skin. But they’re professionals, they know how to handle things that can be irritating.
She likes to give her clients a ‘happy beginning’ occasionally.
Or at least, if you do mind,you’re OK with her ignoring that?
Any man who still clings to outdated notions that women are slow to adopt technology should try locking an electric shock device onto his genitals and handing his partner the remote. He’ll soon learn.
I’m sure they’ll all accept Fergus’s heartfelt apologies, eventually.
I’d be very anxious, if I were her husband, but I guess that just shows why he needs the pills.
It’s funny how many men visit ladies like ‘Strict Auntie Susan’, claiming their wives don’t understand them… when if given half the chance, those wives would understand all too well.
I’m sure she appreciates the clarification and she’ll show that in her response.
Yes, more scenes from stories of brave princesses rescuing – or not – helpless knights and suchlike. A ‘happy ending’ every time – without even the need to plead and beg for it.
They get porridge to eat, of course, and it’s always ‘just right’ too, despite being cold and lumpy.
Ah, the first electric shock of married life. I remember mine so well. It’s traditional for the husband then to ask his loving wife ‘How long do I have to wear this, darling?’ to which the correct response is of course a peal of delighted laughter.
You do get a say. Not the decisive say, not even an important one, but a say, anyway. Or a squeak, at least.
It’s not as easy a life as you might imagine – those pegs hurt just as much as they would if they were suspending a ‘normal’ male body, for instance.
The grateful populace of the kingdom later began a tradition of staging a re-enactment every year, to celebrate their beloved King’s heroic deed, although obviously, lacking centaurs, they had to use ordinary horses and stable-lads.
He may have found a comfortable place to live, but he remains vigilent. As he trots obediently at her heel, or chases madly after sticks, Sir Foofles is always alert for possible witches in the vicinity, but so far he has never found any. Perhaps they don’t exist? That would certainly explain it.
This café’s quiet but it can be quite fun taking a gimp to a busy café terrace. People at neighbouring tables want to know what insulting names you call it, ask if they can slap it, that kind of thing. Good converation starter.
With a monthly subscription it works out at just a few cents per stroke, which is very reasonable. Unlike the ladies who work there.
I suppose we’re all familiar with the trope that a stiletto heel exerts more pressure than an elephant’s foot. Personally, I still think I’d prefer the stiletto but in the event (unlikely, I know, but my SO can be wonderfully creative) that I’m ever trodden on by an elephant, I’ll let you know how it compares.
Queen Patricia always insisted on the importance of hygiene, at OWK. Any new Lady soon learnt that anything dirty, rotting or smelly had to be put promptly into the proper receptacle.
You could spell some of the words out, letter by letter, under the cane. Particularly fun in German. Just ask your Lebensabschnittsgefährterin.
I could be unnecessarily distracted by Anya all day.
… and yet more images of the lovely Jutta Leerdam, inspired by a comment by shorty:
It’s always nicer as a surprise. And the longer you stay locked up, the more of a surprise it would be, so the nicer it gets.
It’s possible he didn’t read the form quite carefully enough. Still, as long as he’s familiar with the seven-point procedure for early termination of the agreement, in paragraph 17(f) in Annex D, I’m sure he’ll be OK.
You can never have too many lesbians around the place, my SO says, but then she doesn’t clean up after them or do their laundry.
My own knowledge of nautical terminology mostly consists of making puns on the word ‘seamen’ so I did check…
The way to make your money go further is only to pay for what you regard as absolutely essential in life.
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene; Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.
I realise that Sunday’s posts tend to be themed and this is only loosely themed, since most of the ladies featured on this blog do have eyes, usually two of them (except in the stranger sci-fi or ‘further side’ captions) and the eyes, like everything else about them, are usually great. But it does get a bit more specifically themed, towards the end, you’ll see.
Hey – well done you! First time your sexual perfomance has really satisfied her. Let’s hope it’s the first of many.
Mixed signals can even end up in slavery contracts. For example, my first contract ruled out having cigarettes stubbed out on me as a hard limit, but it also said that my purpose in life was to please my SO, including sexually. Quite a dilemma – but she dealt with it decisively, as she so often does.
Many men prefer women of moderate size in that regard, but you wouldn’t think so from looking at online porn.
It’s actually much nicer not to have a financial allowance, I find, as you don’t have to bother yourself with budgeting and suchlike and it really helps develop those pleading skills, which are all-important in a successful relationship. Plus there’s much less danger of buying anything she might not approve of, which is just one less anxiety to worry about, isn’t it?
Don’t worry: you’ll get a new name. And if you ever forget it (and you will, lacking any long-term memory), just strip naked and ask someone who knows how to read to tell you.
Actually, Anya quite likes submissives, in their proper place.
The above refers of course to….
By the way, truth imitates art, reality imitates fiction and all that sort of thing, right? As is so infrequently demonstrated on this blog, whose predictions are scarily inaccurate. But Anya…
OK, look, do I think she’s really the lifestyle domme / female supremacist of my dreams? No, alas, probably not. But do I think she knows perfectly well what effect some of her outfits have on a certain male demographic? Oh yes, I totally do. As I pointed out before, so these are just a few more:
OK, that one was because she’d just been in a Mad Max movie. But the rest…?
Could be taken from a Woman Worship shoot. Not AI to the best of my knowledge?
Oh. My. Goddess.
… and… and even when it’s not specifically the clothes, it’s the look, it’s the attitude. Right? I mean…
…and… and…
I mean, sure you can caption the image with her saying something chastity-themed (I think I have) but it doesn’t actually need the caption, does it?
Of course although the dominatrix and ice maiden looks will have 90% of male submissives essentially catatonic with awed desire, there’s still the more sissy-oriented minority in our community who are unlikely to respond to… oh hang on, never mind:
… and surely any findomme would kill for an image like this on her web site:
Oh – a CtD post on a Thursday! Hmm, you say. Must be an extra, because Servitor is celebrating the blog’s fifteenth anniversary. And certainly not because silly Servitor messed up the dates in scheduling the posts and thought 29 January was a Friday and noticed too late to delete it, as Sam had already commented. No no no no no… So, yeah, an extra post, because Friday’s post hurriedly recscheduled from later in February will obviously come out as normal tomorrow.
They say the secret of a successful relationship is mutual respect. Which just goes to show how little ‘they’ know. She says the secret of a successful relationship is tyranny and fear and I really can’t disagree with her on that.
Findommes… the unsung heroines of the consumer economy.
It’s funny, back when I was dating, two of the girls I – OK, OK both of the girls I slept with – rated my perfomance as the ‘worst fuck in human history’. Which doesn’t strike me as being right, as one of those fucks must have been worse than the other. Of course, I’m using ‘sleep’ as a euphemism – I never actually ‘slept’ with them, if you know what I mean: they threw me out. But not before I’d had my eighteen seconds of passion!
He didn’t wonder why she was constructing a prison cell in the cellar? Ah, love makes one blind. So does masturbation, ‘they’ say, although my SO says red-hot needles are actually more effective.
I wonder… have any subs who’ve been in this situation ever been tempted to stop brushing for just a moment, turn the hairbrush round and administer a sharp, stinging… I mean, I’m not saying I have, of course! Just to be clear, ahem. But it’s like – or I imagine it would be like – that feeling you get standing on the edge of a cliff, you know? That you could just… jump. Only a lot more dangerous than that, obviously.
Ah, Gigi Allens. A lady with plenty of inches and strong hips to back them up.
Yes, what a touching story. I like to imagine that every time she sees them sparkle, she’s reminded of how she has lots of other lovely necklaces too. Long-time readers will of course be well aware that my visions of the future show that in her political career, President Annie will re-orient male vocational training towards traditional, manly, backbreaking labour or domestic tasks, so really the college fund was no loss.
