When the godesses wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.

True on so many levels. 

I hope you had a good Christmas.  I don't know whether I did or not, as I wrote this post and 'scheduled' it weeks in advance. 

In any case, the real Servitor was long ago laid off and the caption-writing outsourced to Bangladesh, where teams of underpaid workers assemble femdom-themed attempts at erotica and wit using cast-offs from other, more interesting, sites.  Sad, but true - like everything else on this blog.

Don't worry if you can't fill it.  Just ask one of the other men standing alongside you.  I'm sure they won't mind.

 

 

Boyfriends!  The curse of the sissy sub's life.  Still, I suppose someone has to play the football.

 

 

It's good that she's not letting these petty irritations affect her work. No messing about, just getting on with it.  That's the way.

 

 

Ah, the majesty of the legal system.

 

 

"Servitor" is nice, I've often thought.

She knows if you've been bad or good

So be bad, for goodness' sake!

 

 

Try to look more pleased.  She went to all that effort, after all.

 

It works on the opposite principle from the usual ones.  Every day, another slave is locked in.  Then on Christmas Day itself, they all spend the entire day inside, with no food, being ignored by the ladies and having to piss and shit on the ones below.  It's a very special time of year.

 

 

Hmmm.  Looks like a single domme session after all.  Still, maybe she'll make it a memorable one.

 

 

Oh, wouldn't that just be awful?  Sigh.

 This lovely image is from the English Governess site.

Remember - a cage is for life, not just for Christmas.

 

Extra pictures!  Not just the usual five!  Iiiit's Christmas! 

 

I wouldn't worry about it.  Everyone always loses fiddly little things like that at Christmas.  They usually turn up.

 

 

 

She could have put reindeer horns on him.  For a festive touch.  Don't you think?

This is the redoubtable Mistress Wildefyre, in a photoshoot at (the public front of) a site called Cruel Women Rules. Thanks to Gameboy, blogger at Following Blindly Again, for the identifycation.

 

 

Don't worry about getting him a present.  It's her.

 

 

Frankly, Mistress, spank me

The title of course, yet another attempt to gain a veneer of artistic respectability by quoting someone with talent, in this case The Smiths.

The song speaks to me, though, and especially this line:
                 I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry

No poetry today, you'll be pleased to hear.  Onward, with feeling:

I'm not sure what this caption is on about, to be honest.  All lesbian couples look like this, don't they?  It must be true - the Internet sez so.

Keeps you fit.  Very good for your health.  Until she reaches five, anyway.

One day I'll meet someone who appreciates me just for what I am - a pathetic, desperate and unattractive loser who'll willingly hand over cash for a brief moment of pretence that I am otherwise.

The lovely Princess Kali, being lovely as ever.

Just another attempt to make some positive use of the flood of male-dom pictures swirling around and polluting our beloved Internet.

A lucky break

 

Hi Sweetie!  Listen, I met someone you used to work with, last night.  I mean, before you lost your job. One of Rob’s friends.  Brad – somebody? Yes, that’s right.  Tall guy, very good-looking.  Was he in your team?  Did he?  Wow, hard to imagine you being his boss.

Anyway, he’s got your old job, now. Well – sort of.  They’ve expanded it a bit, given him two extra divisions to manage I think.  They’re doing really well!  He said you weren’t very good at winning  business because clients found you a bit creepy, or something like that.  Funny what a difference these little things make!  Oh, and apparently your team never liked you much.  But with him in charge, all that’s changed!  Isn’t that great?

Anyway, I was telling him you’ve been unemployed all this time, and how desperate you are for work, and that you’re looking for opportunities – and guess what he said!

Apparently, he needs a cleaner!  Three hours a day, you know to pick up around his apartment and do the dishes and his laundry and things like that.  And he’ll pay 25% over minimum wage – because he says he’s really messy!  He told Rob that anyone who'd handwash his dirty socks deserved at least a 25% bonus over minimum wage.  He's such a funny guy - had us all laughing all evening.

Well, of course I said you’d love to!  So maybe you can pop round today, and he can show you where all the things are. 

Oh – and it gets better.  He said he’d ask around at work, to see if anyone else needs laundry doing or something!  They’re all really busy, and the company gave them all huge bonuses last year, so he reckons there’s a good chance!  He even had this brilliant business idea! You could do laundry for the whole team - you know, just pop into your old office two or three times a week and pick it up from anyone who has anything for you, then deliver it all again, all clean and neatly ironed, a day or two later.  Wasn't he clever to think of something like that!  Maybe that's why he's so much more successful than you were. 

Wasn’t that lucky!  He’s really nice, actually.  I hope he’s there again tonight.

Enthralled

enthrall (v.)

also enthral "to hold in mental or moral bondage," 1570s, from en- (1) "make, put in" + thrall. Literal sense is from 1610s.

 

Kinky etymology.  You only get it here.  Don't you?

 

I think she should allow them more food, don't you?

 

 

Math is hard.  So's she.

 

She likes the way all those clamps jingle together when you sway.

 

 

Anyway, you're still young.  Plenty of time to have that orgasm.

 

She'll probably just choose 'both' again - same as usual.  Women - never can make their minds up, can they?  Bless 'em.

 

Reunited

It’s so cool to see the two of you again, after all these years.  So  -while she's stepped out of the room, how are things between you and Fiona?  Hey? Still great?  You were always, like, this perfect couple?

Yeah?  Does she?  Yeah I did notice you were quite quiet around her.  Well, she was always quite bossy.  I guess you knew that when you married her.

Oh – I’m sure it’s not as bad as that!  Lots of couples have rules.  And it’s not like you were ever going to be the one in charge in this marriage, is it?  Not with Fuhrer Fiona in charge!  That’s what we used to call her at school.

Doe she?  Wow.

But you were into that anyway, weren’t you?  I remember, when we were together, you were always asking me to smack your bottom, or tie you up.  That’s one of the reasons we split up… I like the man to be in charge.  I think you’re really lucky to have found someone else who’s into it.  I’m sure she doesn’t beat you that hard.

Does she?  Wow.  Well, I don’t know anything about that stuff.  But you look OK to me.  You’ve lost weight, for one thing.  You look good.

What?

Oh don’t be ridiculous!  How could I help you 'escape’!  You’re not a prisoner here.  I’m sure you could leave any time you wanted!

What?  Oh good grief!  Nobody’s a ‘slave’ any more.  I mean, not really.  I think the two of you are just going through a bad patch, that’s all.  And the kinky sex thing is just making it a bit more complicated.  But I expect you’ll work it out.

Oh dear.  Now I've upset you.  Look - stop crying, I'll help if I can, OK?

 

Well maybe I could talk to her about how you’re feeling, and -

Oh calm down!  Stop panicking!  I’m her oldest friend, I know how to tell her things.

Anyway, here she comes now.   Don’t worry.  I won’t tell her directly, but maybe tonight when we’ve had a few drinks I’ll just let on that you told me you’re a bit unhappy with her, OK?  I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.  Then the two of you can start working through your differences after I've gone.

Shhh!  Not a word!

Special pleading

...it's her favourite sort.

It's best to take it bit by bit.  Remember, Ladies, you can always have another go and take off a few more IQ points if he's still uppity, but if you hold on too long and you've got a drooling idiot who's too stupid to work the vacuum cleaner, you'll regret it the next time you want the floor cleaned!

 I take it no one in my audience will fail to recognise these as the magnificent Eleise de Lacy and Domina Lisa, here in a Femme Fatale Films production?

Thought not - you bunch of perverts.

 

 

I think she'd better watch out.  He could turn - just like that.

 This is from Planet Femdom.  I have loads of stills from this shoot - it's great, don't you think?  He's so small!  She's so tall!  Brilliant! I'm just going to keep on putting essentially the same caption on all of them.  Love it!

 

And then of course there's the pie still to eat.  Actually, it really wasn't that great.  But you don't want to tell her that.

 

 

Seems fair.  And if it doesn't seem fair to you, I really wouldn't recommend pointing that out to her.

 

 

Best not to get high on your own supply, after all.  I personally never masturbate when creating or posting captioned images.  Nor do I ever tell lies.  And of course, I should be severely punished were I to break either of those rules....

After school activities

Hi Honey!

Listen – Miranda called today.  You remember she started teaching at that new school?  That’s right.  Sex education for a class of seventeen year-old girls. I mean, can you imagine!

Anyway, she came round a couple of days ago, because she knows you had the operation a few years ago, and she wanted to borrow the jar.  Show them what male genitalia really look like.

So of course I said yes (sorry – hope that’s OK with you!).

Well, apparently the kids were really interested!  I mean, that’s amazing – normally they only care about Facebook and stuff like that.  And she wants to use that in her teaching – you know, get them talking about sexual politics, how traditional gender roles are changing, the image of the ‘castrating woman’ in literature and popular culture…  You know?

So, she was wondering if we could go in and talk to the class some time.  To talk about how we handle sex now – apparently when she first told them, they thought we were both celibate!

I thought maybe we could pop in next Tuesday.  She’d do it as an after school activity – you know, put up a poster and just see how many turn up.

You’re not busy on Tuesday, are you?  I told her it would probably be OK, but I thought I’d better just check first.

Don't worry - it won't be like this.  You'll get a much bigger audience, I'm sure.

But when you are tied to your mother's apron...

As I'd love to be...still, this blog talks about castration anyway.  Quite a lot, actually.

Sometimes, they are even the same aspect of the same place.

 

 

That's a relief.  It would be a bit embarassing to have had to reply "a small cupboard" to any questions about where you spent your honeymoon.  And you know her rule about always telling the truth.

 

 

Oh, OK.  Maybe we're not talking about castration today, after all.  Maybe we're not talking about anything.

 

 

I suspect 'we' will.

 

 

I hope so too.

It's time this was said

OK?

Famous for more than 15 minutes

Oh hey!  How are you!  Wow, I guess I haven’t seen you since –

Well, yeah.  I guess you could call it ‘that’ date.  The date from hell, huh?

Oh but look, I’m kinda glad I ran into you.  I mean, you must have some pretty awful memories from that night – I mean the way you were crying when I threw you out and stuff aaaand I just didn’t want to leave it like that without, well -

 - without telling you how much blog traffic I got when I posted about it!

I mean, really.  “Impotent crybaby” just got more traffic than anything else I’ve ever published.  And when I put up another post – you know, about how you said maybe you could get hard if only you could sniff my trainers – well, wow!  I mean, my blog’s been like, in the top 1000 ever since.

You’re even an internet meme.  Pretty cool, huh?

Oh, you must have seen it.  You put up a picture of some – like – total catastrophe, like an earthquake or something and then you write “But maybe if I can sniff your smelly trainers, it’ll all be OK?”

Didn’t you realise that was you? "Needy fucked up loser".  That's you!  You're a star.

Oh my god!  Are you crying again?  Hold on, let me get my phone.  I have got to take a photo this time!

Where are you going?  Hey come back! 

Oh don't be a spoilsport!  I just wanna… I –

Hey!

I have trainers in my bag!  And I went running this morning.  You want me to - ?

That’s right.  Trainers.  Smelly old stinky trainers.

That's better.

OK, we’ll start with you kneeling down there.  No, there.  That's right.

Look up at the camera, honey.  No – don’t dry your eyes.  And now up at the bag where the trainers are…that’s right.  How much do you want them?  Hmm?  How much?  Show me how much you want them.  Because you won’t get them unless I see those tears flow, asshole. 

That’s right.  Oh boy.  Youtube fame, here I come.

It was 50 years ago tomorrow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do you see what I did, there?  No?  Oh.  Well you should get out less, then.  Watch more TV.

 

Oh - and a bonus one (doesn't count as one of the five, because the picture quality is poor):

 

 

A turning point

Many of you seem to like the series 'turning points': captioned images of situations that are not exactly femdom.  But could be.  Like this.

Anyway, in the same theme here is one of those little stories that's just too damn big to fit as a caption.

 

Hmmm?  My riding lesson?

No, it was rubbish, actually.  They gave me that grey horse again – the lazy one.  And he kept refusing the jump so I gave him a few sharp taps with the whip – you know.  And then he refused it again, so I decided to show him who was boss.  So I was giving the lazy bastard some good hard cracks right across his rump when the instructor came up and told me I was giving him too much whip!  That I should be trying to coax the stupid animal instead of thrashing him!  Can you imagine!

She said she’d cancel the lesson if I didn’t stop.  So of course I did…but can you imagine?  It drove me mad, trotting around on this lazy old thing and I couldn't do anything but tap it gently.  I’ll swear the brute was laughing at me!  You know how frustrated and angry I get when I don’t get my way.  Grrr.

Anyway, when we finished and I took him back to the stall and tied his reins up, she wasn’t around.  So I gave him 12 good hard ones!  He didn’t like that, I can tell you.  He was jumping about and trying to get his head around, but I was standing well to the side.  And I laid them on good and hard - raised some lovely welts. 

Anyway, I'm sure it did him a power of good.  When I walked past a bit later on the way to the car, he caught sight of me and cringed.  Really.  Have you ever seen a horse cringe?  I don’t think he’s going to forget me in a hurry!  In fact, I might ask to have him again next time.  I think we’ll be jumping those fences very nicely.

So… that was my day.  Still feeling angry.

How about you – did you fix that leaking pipe?

Oh darling!  I can’t believe it – I asked you specially!  Now how am I going to wash all this stable smell off?  What have you been doing all this time?  Just lying about watching TV and surfing the internet I suppose!

Honestly – you do make me cross sometimes. You really do.

Number 17

No, it’s not part of a psychological game.  I really am a serial killer.  The dominatrix thing is just a trick.  You'll be my 17th victim.

You see, I used to have to go out and try to capture men…but that’s so difficult, and it’s risky too.  One time, one got away - he would have been number 4 - but I was lucky, he hadn’t seen my face. 

And then I discovered that if I advertise as “Cruel Carmina’s House of Bondage” men would come to me and let me tie them up.   And then I can do what I want, can't I?

They even pay.  Amazing, really!

More?  Oh don't worry about that.  The money's not important.  You can offer as much as you like and -

- how much? -

- wow, you must be rich!  Well, it would be nice to have that much money.  But I don't think so.  I'd still have the craving to do this, no matter how rich I was.  And anyway, if I let you go I think sooner or later I'd find myself in prison, don't you? 

So, I think it's better if your money just goes to whoever you've named as beneficiary in your will.  But thanks for offering.

That’s right.  You try those straps.  Give them a good pull.  You’ll find they’re quite strong.  I spent a fortune on bondage gear.

You can have a good struggle there, while I go and take all this leather and rubber shit off and put some proper clothes on, OK?  And get the plastic sheeting.

What’s that?  Someone will come looking for you?

Oh dear.  Should I be scared?  Because you told lots of people you were paying a visit to “Cruel Carmina’s House of Bondage” did you? 

I don't think so.  I’ll bet you even switched ‘location services’ off on your phone before you arrived, didn’t you?

Yes, of course you did.  No one knows you're here.  It's just you and me.  We're going to get to know each other quite well, over the next few days.

And then it'll just be me again.  All on my own.  To tidy up the mess.  And make an appointment for number 18.

See you in a minute.

 

For anyone considering visiting a professional domme for the first time - this is just a silly jokey fantasy, OK?  The first time I visited one, I was terrified and I left everything like credit cards that could identify me behind in case - oh, I don't know what.  And she was lovely, and just perfect and I quickly grew to trust her completely.  I've visited quite a few dommes and I have never found one to be other than completely professional, and understanding and safe.  Just go for it.

I do still switch off 'location services' of course.  But it's not my Mistress I'm worried about, there.  It's being found out.

 

The lady in the photos is from a photoshoot from Cruella...oooh, at least 25 years ago.  She haunted my adolescent fantasies, and still does.