On the fourth day of Christmas

My Mistress gave to me
...four across the buttocks
...three across the knuckles
...two hours in the corner
...and an hour being spanked across her knee.

I expect they'll find something to amuse themselves with. I wonder if Amanda has any hobbies?

Their grades have been quiite poor, actually.  I think your professional integrity requires you to resist revising them for as long as possible.

Ironically, being married to her is a bit more expensive too.  Still, too late now.

Yes Ellen.

Wasn't it nice of her to ask him?  And isn't Anne Hathaway just the most...., just the... oh words fail me and I'm not even fit to be unworthy of her.  Sigh.  SIGH. 

She's making a list and checking it twice

Merry Christmas, boys and fully functional human beings!

Think of me this Christmas time.  I'll be there all snuggly wrapped up under the Christmas tree waiting to find out what I'll be getting this year.  Chestnuts roasting on the open fire....well, not again I hope.

Christmas comes but once a year, after all...and...oh, ah I'm sure I was going to come up with some femdom-related humour just there, but I can't remember it now.  A witty play on words I expect.  To much eggnog I suppose...or at least, she assured me it was eggnog.

Here y'are, one extra for the festive season.



She won't share them with Madame Sarka, you know.  Not after those two broke last Christmas.



I think she's showing him how much she cares, don't you?

You don't get to visit the in-laws and she stands you in the corner with your hands chained?  Is this supposed to be a punishment?  Honestly, I think the blog's going soft.

That's more like it.

You think it's hard for you - I have to write them really small!



She really wanted a necklace too.  Still, I expect she can keep on wearing that old one with the key on it for another year.

But I am a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, and despised of the people.

Nothing so pervy as the Bible, is there?


On we go, mustn't dawdle, only 2 more wanking days before Christmas.

We really need to fundamentally rethink our vision of society, to tackle climate change.  Having lots of beautiful dommes around wearing leather would be a really good start, IMWO*.

Later he discovered that he could tell the difference between wines, as long as they were first passed through Anna.  But by then, his career had moved on.

Don't worry.  If you didn't look, you have nothing to be terrified about.



Well that's a relief.  The rumour around the office was that the woman doing these evaluations was a real man-hater who took pleasure in humiliating male staff.



Times are hard, you need the money and she hates the taste of semen.  It's perfect.

*IMWO = In My Worthless Opinion.  I'm trying to start a meme, here.

Devotional intelligence

There are actually scientific tests of men's devotional intelligence scores.  You're given a set of 100 statements and asked for your opinion on each, which is then ignored.  It's very accurate.

Actually, I don't think the former owners left the key.  Might just have to leave it there.

Well, he's not writhing around on the floor in agony, so something's obviously wrong.

It wouldn't be so bad, but she just can't spell for toffee.  "Slutt" indeed - and all over your forehead too!

Women.  Getting all excited over an ordinary household appliance?  Remember when she got that new iron, and couldn't stop trying it out on the back of your hand?  Girls and their toys, eh?

That's a bit unfair. But then so was telling all your friends you were too small to satisfy her, and then making you hire her a male escort.  Sometimes life's not fair like that.  Hey - you're an impotent cuckold with a tiny cock.  But there's probably a good side to that, right?  Right?

Rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath

Please.

She didn't rush to judgement, though.  She took her time.

Yet another of those Mars and Venus things, I reckon.  What do you suppose she's trying to tell you here?

Actually the greatest torture is trying to read the tiny print...

Actually that's not fair.  At least one of the girls in the office calls you "Bootlicking little perverted wanker.".  No idea why.

There are times in any marriage when an apology is called for.  Here's one.

What do you call a slave all wrapped up in brown paper?

Russell.


What do you call a trannie, with one ankle tied tightly up to 'her' genitals?


Eileen.


How many slaves does it take to - oh never mind.  In my heart, I know I'm funny.


On with the pictures...I've got pages and pages of great material.

Still, no harm done.

I'd forgive her.  Wouldn't you forgive her?

He's quite a big boy, but now he'll be able to try small penis humiliation!  For a while anyway.  Isn't that great?

I thought we'd try a change from the sexual themed pictures.  Just a pretty girl eating a banana.  Wholesome fun. 

And you can call her Ma'am.

Thou shalt not

Not without permission anyway.




And they all lived happily - oh no, hang on, no they didn't.



I think it's great when husband and wife can work together.  But don't expect her to help out with the housework - remember who's bringing home the big bucks in this relationship.  She earns more money, too.



A G5?  A G5 airplane?



You have to time it right.  Best to work up to it in stages, taking him a little further each time until that IQ's just down where you like it.

You need to learn to respect her rights.  Or just respect her.

Dealing with feelings of guilt

I'd like you to meet some ladies who are really good at that.

Don't worry, you'll show her.  Just go and get yourself a lawyer and - oh.  OK, so if you save your pocket money for about two years, maybe you can afford a really cheap lawyer, and then...

Maybe you choose tonight.  Then she can choose again tomorrow.

Let's just hope the little wife doesn't ever mention that you call her 'the bitch'.

Unconditional surrender.

Nice to see her soft and affectionate side, for a moment, before she really gets started on you.