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.
That damn flicker. Better try to get it under control, now you’re married.
She likes locks. She likes the look of them, she likes the sound they make gently clinking inside your trousers when you’re out together…
I got lost once, Followed the wrong pair of heels… suddenly looked up and gulp! The lady was very nice, though and took me home, where she got talking to my SO and one thing led to another and… well, let’s just say I didn’t get my whipping for being lost until quite late the following morning!
He’s going to be your friend too, now.
Dommes say the funniest things. One beautiful lady once tied me to the bed and giggled sexily in my ear about how much she’d like to take my cock in her mouth and nibble it gently before taking firm hold with her hand and pumping… pumping… The silly thing must have forgotten she’d locked me in a tight chastity restrainer! But I didn’t say anything to embarass her.
In the event, she did turn up, about an hour late, with some of her friends, all wearing tight boob tubes and leather miniskirts. They got drunk and started shouting mocking abuse at all the sad little physics spods and speccy chemistry nerds sharing the stage, and made them hand over their medals, which they referred to as ‘lunch money’.
Finally, a quick note about comments here on this blog. The anti-spam thingy (to use a technical term) seems to have been a bit too cautious of late, with some commenters being blocked. Sorry about that. If you are, I think you can request approval. I do see those (might take a day or two) and I’ll always approve any that aren’t obvious spam marketers. I think once you’re on the approved list you’re fine forever but I’m not sure – the anti-spam stuff keeps having to change to stay ahead. I’d love to just switch it off, but I see the list of spammy comments it has blocked and believe me, there are hundreds every week so that’s not an option.
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.
The world looks different, seen through tears. Often a lot clearer, oddly enough.
Of course, later, historians would debate whether ‘the lab leak hypothesis’ was actually a correct description of the cause, many (such as Sonia Lucysdaughter in her book They Had it Coming Anyway) preferring the ‘Some male moron probably fucked up, as usual’ hypothesis.
She’s struggling to keep control of herself.
If anyone’s thinking she’s only giving away someone else’s money, you haven’t really got the findomme thing. That’s Jerk-off’s wallet, so the money in it is hers, whatever you (or indeed Jerk-off) might think. Incidentally, Jerk-off’s name is going to change soon, as it doesn’t really suit his new lifestyle.
I read somewhere that modern AIs hallucinate things, so any AI femdom programme might punish you mercilessly for things you never even did! Yum…
And your parents will be gone long before Simon and Olly arrive, later.
My SO’s not really into roleplay. She says she enjoys our heavy pain play sessions most when I’m being myself.
I once saw a lady buying some of those cruelty-free cosmetics which she then put into one of those fashionable manhide handbags. A bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say? Not that I’m judging her, of course.
A bit embarassing, having to wear a chastity belt over nothing. It felt like I’d got past that stage, you know?
Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the psychological aspects while you’re being flogged.
I’ve never asked. To be honest, I’ve never really been able to think of an emergency which would require me to have an orgasm.
Once again, this blog takes a little break from its usual commitment to hard-core realism to present some fairy tales. Pretty Grimm, I know, but it’s all I’ve got today.
Don’t worry: if she smashes the door, he has alternative accommodation options. She bought a birdcage, before she had the doll’s house furniture idea.
Even tyrannical despots enjoy ‘bring your daughter to work day’.
Frustrate you? Oh, the poor chap. I wonder how long he’ll be left in that condition?
King Jorral’s queen interpreted the promise as meaning that she would continue to sleep in a queen’s bed, and she was absolutely right about that.
Now she’s learning witchcraft, she’s got some plans for Mr Granger, too.
It’s going to be quite odd for the people running heaven when, in about 970 years, the first post-Internet cohorts of mortals start to arrive. ‘Where are all the men?’, they might ask. Although obviously they’re not allowed actually to say the answer.
Men don’t really understand stuff like that, unless it’s slapped into them.
It’s a symbolic denial of heterosexuality, you see. And a rather practical and concrete physical one too, of course.
Actually, of course, lady Vikings didn’t usually go raiding. No: they waited at home, standing there tapping their feet and idly stroking their whips as their apologetic husbands returned with more meagre and unsatisfactory booty. There is a reason Vikings were so fierce, you know.
Of course, it doesn’t take the human element out completely – it can’t whip you, for instance.
Thank goodness for that. She must have been quite distraught.
Even if you’re sure it’s not yours (and let’s face it – in your condition, you can be reasonably confident it isn’t, right?) it’s polite to offer to lick it off.
Essentially the title is purely descriptive: we are back (after waking up woozily, dangling upside down, swaying around sickeningly as the abduction van tackles the winding country lanes) in the Facility. It’s a woman-owned, woman-run business that provides an ideal country break. Women can relax here, while men can get away from the stresses and cares of their everday lives to experience stresses and cares that are so, so much worse, for as long as their sponsors decide to keep them there.
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.
‘Readers of this blog, being erudite types, often to be found in exclusive salons discussing the role of foreshadowing in literature with other members of the intelligentsia (when they’re not sitting in front of their computers, trousers around their ankles, wanking to porn, obviously) will instantly have recognised the quote as one of Tolstoy’s and will thus, with sinking heart but a dreadful sense of inevitability, have discerned that today’s is another of those boring historical posts in which ladies rarely show their tits or dress up in exciting latex outfits.
Never mind, there’ll be a ‘normal’ post on Tuesday. In the meantime, try to get excited about finely-turned ankles and flirtatious badinage… or just go and whack off to whatever you can find on ImageFap, I don’t care.
Justice will be seen to be done; possibly with rather a lot of accompanying giggling and girlish shrieks.
I wonder how long he invited her to stay for? And I wonder how long she will stay? It might depend on Mrs Truscott, I suppose. It won’t depend on him.
They all only want what’s best for the young lad. He doesn’t, not really. But that’s why he needs a governess, a wardship committee and – ultimately – a wife.
They look shocked… I hope they can come up with something to take their minds off this horrible sight.
She was up late, the poor tired thing, supervising the whipping of all seven stable boys. She works so hard – but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
