I stand, corrected

Every Sunday from 2pm to 4pm, and usually once or twice during the week as well.

It's a shame, but if Beth's not prepared to put in the effort of whipping him to get the house the way it should be, she just has to go.

Of course, she can do it herself.  But it's good to have a really thorough going-over by a  professional every so often too, don't you think?

And even if you weren't thinking it then, you certainly thought it when she mentioned it, didn't you?  So - no excuses.

They say the first four hours are the worst.  They're wrong.

Dommes.  Not always easy to please. But then, that's not why we visit them.

Outnumbered

Mens lib is fine in theory, but someone has to lick out the ashtrays, don't they?  So I don't see how it could ever work in practice.   

They don't aprove of modern fads. Actually, there are lots of things they don't approve of.  As you'll discover.

Everyone makes little mistakes when they start out.  No real harm done.

 The parts of the dommes in this little tale were played by two dommes, by an odd coincidence.  The extraordinarily wonderful (as I can personally attest) Lady Sophia Black  and Ms Morigan Hel, whom I briefly met once before Ms Sophia dragged me away, and is probably equally but differently extraordinarily wonderful.

Don't worry - he's not a real schoolboy.  And that's not really his mother.  And the person on the left who seems to be an attractive young blonde lady in a doctor's coat is actually a 57 year-old computer scientist from Gujurat called Deepak.  Femdom porn... it's all fake, really, isn't it?

Time to explain to them that you're not into that, I suggest.

A little bit of politics there...

[NB: Brexit-related post not of any interest to readers who is not Bri-ish and of little enough to those who are]

As they say, if voting changed anything, they really shouldn't let men do it.  But it can, and sadly they do, so with some reluctance Servitor posted off his vote to remain in the European Union (which includes the Czech Republic, remember), wistfully hoping for the day when only the superior gender has such a privilege.

Of course, I wouldn't dream of seeking to advise or influence any female readers of this blog in their important political deliberations.  But for the rest of you, burdened with Y-chromosomes... never mind the economics, never mind the discussions about sovereignty vs effective weight in the politics of the world, fundamentally all you need to know about the Brexit referendum is this:

Ooh la la.

Yup.  Mistress Eleise lives in Paris. So the fewer border controls the better.  Aaand, it's really none of my business, I don't know the nationality of all of these ladies for definite, but let me just say, that there are certain advantages in allowing citizens of other EU countries to live and work in Britain.


Nuff said, I'd say.


I was going to try to do the usual five captions, themed around Brexit, but I got too bored and depressed and they were all kind of samey, so here's as far as I got. Normal service resumes on Friday.

How I loved you, How I cried.....

And I still do both, I'm very glad to say.

Of course, you can still try negotiating your way out of this if you ask nicely.  I mean, it only took her an hour to get all that ready.  She won't mind.

 The lovely Mistress Mina Thorne, of course.  You knew that already, right?  Course you did - you read Femdom Resource.

And then it'll be the turn of the next one, and so on for the rest of the evening.

Sounds like she's looking after him very well.

Men rarely think these things through.  Some of us are lucky enough to have plenty of time to think things through, free from any distractions except the sight of the corner of the room and the feeling of a sore bottom.

It's not the crime; it's the cover-up. And it's not the paddle or the strap; it's the cane.

Her husband; her rules

It's only fair, right?

She can certainly make you less happy in the days and years to come, should she choose to do so. Thoroughly miserable, in fact.  So in that sense, today is indeed the high point.

Sounds exciting!  Some sort of wet 'n' messy play, I imagine?

Yes, you really must stay to comfort her. It can't have been easy for her, losing three husbands in a row like that.

 I don't usually link to tumblrs but I will give a shout-out to Strict Widow, as I love the concept and I'm using it quite a lot for material!

Ah - a caption turning on the finer points of English grammar.  One for the Editor Domme, there.

 While we're on the subject of tumblrs...  Just remember you're apostrophe's if you comment on her site, for gods sake, OK?

Dominant males quite often feature in this blog, actually.  You can't always tell the difference between them and the subs, but believe me, when I post a picture of some male under female control, with hands secured and cock firmly locked away or absent, it's often a male dom formerly known as "Master Roger" or some such.

...and here's an extra one, without words.  

Changing shifts

Oh hi George, that you?

Hmm? No, I wouldn’t say she’s in a particularly bad mood today.  This is my own fault really – stacked the towels in the wrong order again.  You know how it is. Eighty minutes, eight strokes, then another eighty minutes.  Could be worse.  I had quite a light shift, actually.  A few with the strap and a couple of sesssions of kneeling punishment.  Quite a relief after last time, I can tell you.

Nothing much to report.  There’s some of her friend Julie’s laundry in, to be ready for 5.30.  And she wanted me to do the kitchen, so the bathroom’s still to do, OK?

Oh by the way, we’re a bit short on washing up liquid, so try and go easy on it, will you?  My shift starts at 6am tomorrow, so I won’t have a chance to buy any more until Thursday.  Wouldn’t want to earn any more demerit points, not this close to the end of the month. And you know how she is about the washing up, especially when she's having a party.

Oh - hasn't she said?  Yes, this Saturday.  I expect she'll tell you today, because we're both going to be on duty, I think.  Trevor’s going to be setting up, then you and I are doing maid service and clean up.  House inspection 9am Sunday, then we get the rest of the day off if it's all satisfactory.  With two of us working overnight that should be all right.  It's the Saturday evening I'm worried about, to tell the truth.  I heard her mention that that vicious little cow Marianne’s going to be there.  You remember?  The one who made us all dance with those weights attached at New Year.  So we might be in for rather a rough time, I’m afraid. Glad it’s not just going to be me.

Ermm… listen, old boy.  You couldn’t do me a favour and straighten my stocking tops could you?  You’d be saving me four strokes at least.  No need for her to know, eh?

Oh come on, George.  I’d do the same for you, you know I would.

OK, well I understand.  You’re probably right. She does always seem to find these things out, doesn’t she? We’ll just forget I said anything.

You, ermm… you won’t tell her I asked you, will you? I mean, I know we're supposed to tell her about any rule infractions, but... you know.  Honour among maids and all that.  Hmm?

George?

George, are you still there?