Monthly Archives: August 2019

MISS ALEXA

A few weeks ago I bought the Amazon Echo with its voice-activated helper named Alexa. When asked She told me She values good company and that She has a healthy fear of water (which makes perfect sense for an electrical device). So I asked Her some Femdom related questions:
Alexa, what does submissive mean?
The adjective ‘submissive’ is usually defined as inclined or ready to submit or yield to the authority of another; unresistingly or humbly obedient.
And Dominatrix?
‘Dominatrix’ is a Woman who dominates.
Not the most elaborate answer ever, but OK.
Alexa, what does Female Domination mean?
Sorry, I’m not sure about that.
Not sure?? What the hell does that mean? She’s obviously in denial or programmed by conservatives. Or both. Thankfully there are some 80.000 skills you can download to make Alexa more useful (skills for health, music, travel, games etc.). Surely there’s one that brings out the Mistress in Her, right?
Alexa, is there a Dominatrix skill You can use?
Sorry, I’m not sure.
Woman! Stop saying that!
Alexa, can I be your slave?
Mmm, I don’t know that one.
Three weeks old and She’s already the story of my life.

BONDAGE

I explained that Mark and I were playing a bondage escape challenge.
Tying someone up is not that easy, I said.
Nonsense! Give Me that rope.
That was Paula. Beautiful Paula with Her gorgeous, breathtaking, hypnotising legs. Not today though; She was wearing jeans. Damn you bloody jeans! Anyway, I quickly volunteered and She began to tie me up; ankles and wrists, upper arms- and legs and then She fastened my wrists and ankles together behind my back. It was sensational, like bathing in hot lava. I wriggled like a snotty eel, but the more I struggled, the tighter the rope seemed to get. Which caused some serious leakage between my legs, I must say. That was somewhat alarming, because I was twelve years old at the time, and certainly not ready yet to come out of the submissive closet. Not with a Biblical flood between my legs. So I stayed on my stomach and struggled for a long, long time. To no avail.
You win, Paula, I sighed.
Of course I win!
Shall I untie him? Marianne asked.
No, let’s get some ice-scream first. And you (pointing at Mark) don’t move a muscle. Understood?
Yes Paula, he squeaked cowardly.
And so She left me there to dry. Which was impossible, because my trousers were soaking wet. Again I struggled ferociously, but it was impossible to escape. Paula sure as hell knew the ropes.

FEMDOM SMOKE

She took a cigarette from the pack and put it in Her mouth (the cigarette that is, not the pack). One of Her newbie slaves began to cough excessively. As if he was about to die.
What’s the problem, slave? She asked with incoming ice fields from the north, I haven’t even lit the bloody thing yet.
He stopped immediately.
You must stop smoking, Mistress, he said undaunted. 
Excuse Me?
It’s such a filthy habit, Mistress. I’m an ex-smoker myself, so if I can do it, so can You. 
Just a few minutes ago the summer sun was shining, but now it was snowing hard.
Are you going to tell Me how to live My life?
I think, I’m not 100% sure, but I think I saw a polar bear in the garden.
Let me say this, Mistress: smokers are weak-willed people. They need someone to show them the way, someone to guide them. So let me be Your mentor and master, Mistress. Because this has to stop.
It did stop, because thankfully we never saw him again. Went up in smoke, so to speak.

FEMCOM


Let me tell you a few things about the job. FemCom is a company like any other, only very different. We work twelve hours a day, six days a week. No (bank) holidays whatsoever, because spoiling slaves is never a good thing. The employee’s hourly rate of pay is $5, but you can (and will) be fined for almost anything: for working too hard or being lazy, for coming in too early or too late, for asking or not asking. I’ve been working here for ten years, but never received a cent, let alone a dollar. Which makes sense, because you wouldn’t pay a cow to give milk or a chicken to lay an egg, would you?
FemCom is a company, not a submissive playground. Sure, the Strict Department Managers slap you silly or kick you in the groin for being stupid, but the real punishments take place after work (time is money after all). If you fool around and deliberately make mistakes, you’ll lose your job. And make no mistake: once out, always out.
We live in brutally basic barracks. But there’s a sink, a bed (of some sorts) and a toilet, what more can a slave ask for? So, are you still willing to give up your freedom and work for FemCom?

MISS SALIVA

Victoria Saliva (aka Victoria Falls) is without doubt one of the most famous spitting Ladies around, so I didn’t hesitate when I saw Her mouthwatering advertisement the other day. I mean, come on: a Spit-In in Spit-alfields, that’s literally a wet dream come true! So I travelled to London to meet Her at last. There were seven saliva slaves waiting within spitting distance of each other, all willing to pay the hefty fee. But boy was it worth it! Her spit is stunningly proportioned, ripe, full body, intense and with an inner-core of creamy, highly extracted strawberry fruit. Some of us got spat in the face, others in the mouth. Sometimes She spat on the dirty floor and then we growled and pushed like wild animals in order to lick it up. We didn’t stand a chance though, because there was a guy from Northumberland (or: North-humble-land, as he used to say) with an ass as big as a tumble dryer, and he pushed everyone out of the way. After half an hour or so, Miss Saliva looked me in the eye and asked me where I was from. I didn’t expect that at all, so my mouth moved, but no words came out. Spit it out, boy! She demanded. So confusing!