Oscar night

 

 

Oh wow.  Hey... this is... this just so great.  Thank you.  Thank you so, so much.

 

Listen – I just want to say a word or two about my very good friend Mark, OK?

I think you know who I mean.  I know he didn’t direct this movie. Fact is, he hasn’t directed any movie since that unfortunate incident of masturbating into some of the female extras' shoes on that last movie of his.  That was a bad time for him.

But listen – Mark isn’t a quitter. No way.  And he loves this business.  Sure, he couldn’t get any directing or writing jobs any more.  But he came to us and he begged for some work on this movie – any work. He was on his knees in front of me and Brad, crying his eyes out and kissing the ground.  That’s how passionate he is about movies.

 

 

So we took pity and gave him a job as a laundry boy.  Just for the clothes.  Not the shoes. We made that very clear.  You see, some of the shoes in the movie were really valuable – Louboutin - you know?  And the costumist was really worried about them with Mark around.  Semen can damage fine leather quite badly, apparently.  So we were all talking about it, and saying maybe we should get a lockable cupboard or something, when Brad said “Why not lock his cock away instead?”.

And you know – when we told him that was a condition of his staying on the picture crew, Mark didn’t hesitate. He wore a chastity belt for five months, right through the hot summer months. Why?  OK, because he was desperate.  But also because he’s a true professional.

And I just want to say that that same professionalism shone through everything he did.  The chorus girls’ sweaty leotards, the stuntmen’s grimy overalls, even Brad’s favourite socks came back clean and pressed every day without fail. One time, I had such a heavy period and we only had one spare of the white shorts I had to wear for the scene we were shooting? Well, every time they got stained, Mark would take them off and hand-wash them and dry them carefully with a blow dryer, in time for me to change and just keep on filming.  Didn’t I tell you he isn't a quitter!

Yeah!  That’s right!  Give it up for Mark!  We love you Mark!

 

 

 

And he’s here tonight!  Can we get a spotlight on that table there? No – the next along...there! 

Hey Mark!

So, yeah, Mark – I know you didn’t want any kind of fuss made.  But all the other stars who’ve made speeches have thanked all the people who played really important roles in the movie.  So I thought maybe I’d use my time to thank you instead.  And I know just how to do it.

You ladies, there on the table with Mark?  Yeah – you three beautiful ladies!  I want you to stand up on the table in front of him.  Yeah, that’s right.  ON the table.  Careful how you get up there. And one by one – I want you to let him sniff your shoes, nice and slow.

Oooh – Jimmy Choo! Mark’s in luck.

Go on Mark. You know you want to.  You deserve it. I got my Oscar, and you get your reward too, compadre! Good job. 

 

 

Let’s hear it for Mark!

Hey – have we got time to get him up here for a speech too?  If we’re quick?  OK!

Mark – c’mon up here!  We want to hear from you!

 

Oh - he's shy.  C'mon guys, slow clap. We can get him up here.

 

Mark. Mark.  MARK.  MARK. MARK. MARK.

 

OK!

 

 

 

Actually, I almost never watch the Academy Awards. I find it rather offensive, the way some of the stars they celebrate are men. And even in the awards for actresses, I find they often single out people other than Anne to win.  There's just no need for that, in my view and I wish they wouldn't do it.

Just like a prayer

Humbler and humbler we become.

Brisk, businesslike and to the point.

I was the victim in an abusive relationship once.  It's actually quite a traumatic memory.  I was upset for months afterwards... begging her to come back.

 

It's good to have a hobby.

Charlotte's Web - the femdom version.  With bacon for supper.

Can you imagine?

Hmm?  This?

Oh – well, I’m a bit embarrassed you caught me reading it, actually.  It’s the autobiography of a professional ‘dominatrix’.  You know?  One of those tarts that dresses up in leather and smacks men's bottoms. Can you imagine?

Janice lent it to me.  I thought it wouldn’t be my thing – well, it isn’t really – but I can’t put it down. It’s amazing some of the things she gets up to.

Sad too, actually.  She says one of her oldest clients is married, but he’d never plucked up the courage to tell his wife what he wanted.  And it’s weird because she sounds like a real harridan!  Apparently, one time he turned up for a ‘session’ and he wanted to cancel the thing she’d planned, because this wife had just been screaming at him after he’d wrapped the car around a tree.  And he felt the need to be properly punished or something.  Should have just asked his wife to take the cane to him – she sounds like the sort of woman who’d enjoy it.  Do you remember how cross I was that time you crashed the car! You’re lucky I didn’t have a cane handy, now I come to think of it! I'd have given you what for.

And he wants to spend his time serving her as her ‘slave husband’ but of course he can’t say that either, so he just does odd bits of housework and fetches and carries for her and things – serving his mistress in his head you see. (Oh thanks, love – just put it there on the coaster. Sweetener not sugar, right?  Great.)

 

It’s amazing, the freaky stuff that’s out there, isn’t it?  People leading these sad, secret hidden lives, and you’d never know.   He must have wasted a fortune on this "Lady Nightshade". Maybe it's best if his wife never does find out!  She'd probably be furious - wouldn't you? I would.  She charges hundreds each time!  All that money, just for a sore bottom once in a while. 

You know, her ‘dungeon’ is in Ealing? Near the tube station.  I mean, she calls it a dungeon but it's a walk-up apartment really.  Just like any other house.  You probably walk right past it every month, when you go and visit your osteopath.  

Can you imagine?

Just a short one for Anne

Oo-er sounds a bit rude!

Anyway, Servitor here, just wanted to mention that a few weeks back, I was having a discussion in the comments (actually, all the comments are written by me, in a pathetic bid to make the blog look popular, but that's another matter - this one was under my own name) and I said:

But then the consciously and obviously "femdom" movies generally are disappointing. Walk All Over Me had Tricia Helfer, but not for long.

I suspect the less consciously femdom things work better. Anne Hathaway gives femdom phone sex in a Russian accent in Valentines Day. But the swoon moment for me was when her vanilla character looks cross with her boyfriend right at the end of the movie. Ah well.

 And I just thought you'd like to see, so:

Aaaaahhh.

Don't you think?  Hmm?

Anyway, that's it for today.  No captioned images, so.... oh all right then.  Here's just one.

Oh, go on then, why not:

Right, that's it.  Now go away and leave me to contemplate the divine Anne in peace.

Turning points are go

... if you know what I mean.  And if you don't, look here.

 

For her

Weirdest client?  Oh, I dunno. I mean, they’re all weird, aren’t they?

There was one once though – quite a regular.  And I had a party for my regular subs and they got to arguing about which one adored me most – silly old fuckers, like I care as long as they keep paying!  Anyway, they decided to settle it with a breath-holding contest.   And when it was this guy’s turn, he took out a roll of duct tape and wrapped his mouth up, popped a clamp onto his nose and then slipped a pair of handcuffs on behind his back! 

Well, as you can imagine, after a minute or so, he was writhing around and all purple in the face, and I was just about to look around for something to cut the tape when one of the other slaves said “Shouldn’t you cut him loose, Mistress?”.  Well, of course you can’t stand for that sort of impertinence, so I gave him a good slap and I settled back in my chair and said “He’ll breathe again when I decide, slave, not before.”  All haughty-like, you know.  You have to be like that, as a domme.  They like it.

And I gave it a bit longer and then I graciously instructed them to cut his gag off.  And they faffed about and panicked like slaves will. And then it was all too late!

Hmm? Oh no. Not dead.  Severe brain damage, though.  It’s the oxygen, apparently.

Shame really.  So maybe he was the weirdest…. Oh, but hang on, there was other guy that had this thing about asparagus!   And you know how asparagus makes your wee smell? So one time – oh this is really funny, even funnier than the other thing! – one time, right, this guy brought a big bunch of asparagus with him and…