I lived with Selma for almost three years and She could be demanding, shrewd and seductive at times. She knew my weak spots and She targeted them mercilessly whenever She wanted something. Bossy, that’s the word I was looking for. I didn’t realise it at the time, but She was in fact a natural born dominant. Her need to control was very real, I didn’t have to ask for it and I certainly didn’t have to pay for it; it came with the package. She never punished me or anything, though. She knew nothing about my submissive feelings and there were no BDSM toys in the house. She didn’t need all that, I guess, She knew way too well She could make me do anything by pushing the right buttons. There was more realism to Her authority than to all the stuff you see on Femdom websites. And yet I left Her in the hope of finding a real Mistress…. So the question is: how important are punishments and humiliations to us. Is being Bossy enough or not near enough?
“Women are beyond mysterious, you know. Fascinating creatures, no doubt about it, but downright confusing. They’ve been mistreated by men for centuries, bullied around, treated like dirt. And now we come along: 24/7 slaves, willing to obey, willing to work our asses off, willing to surrender heart and soul to them. One should think they would honour and praise us. But no sir! They’ll punish and humiliate us over nothing. We’re collectors items and yet they treat us like garbage. I think it’s time for a strike. That’ll teach them a lesson.” The bathroom door opened and he shrivelled down to his knees. “Don’t tell Me you were talking to the mirror again” his Wife said. “No Goddess,” he squeaked, ” I w.was singing.” She looked down on him and shook Her head. “You’re such a terrible liar. But not to worry, the truth will come out, one way or the other. Follow Me, we’ll deal with this straight away. Strike when the iron is hot, as My mother used to say.”
Cleaning my own house is not what I would call a hobby of mine. It’s such a waste of time and once it’s finished you’ll have to start all over again. So I bought myself a cleaning robot two years ago. I’ve named it Annett (excellent on the floor, disappointing in bed) just to make my life a little easier. And yet I’ve spent a crazy amount of time scrubbing and cleaning for Mistresses and I loved, loved, loved it. That wasn’t a waste of time, that was Heaven! It made me feel great, because making yourself useful, that’s what slavery is all about, isn’t it. Working your ass off for a Mistress is a reward, nothing less. But of course, Mistresses strive for perfection, so spick-and-span punishments are inevitable. During the scrubbing or afterwards. Yes, cleaning for a Mistress is absolutely gorgeous and I can only hope and prey they’ll never, ever replace us for a cleaning robot.