Staff Trouble – Mistress Meg.

Mistress Meg’s progressive approach to staff management is not always appreciated by others.

I felt I should share this weeks events with you. I’m sure you’ll find them of interest. Those of you who are Seahorse members on my Patreon will appreciate some of the events more than others, being familiar with my work.  However, for those of you who have not yet joined me at that level, think of this as an introduction.

As I fastened the final leather cuffs to Mr. Barton’s forearms, I turned to Stacy and said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, Stacy, but if I’m not mistaken I can’t help thinking Mr. Barton is not a completely happy man.”
 
For those of you who have been reading my posts you regularly, you will know I am a very perceptive and sensitive person. I’m very generous by nature and I pick up on these things.
 
“What makes you think that?” said Stacy, as she selected a pair of shiny heavy steel nipple clamps.
 
“Mostly it’s the sobbing. The whimpering, too. The squirming is also something that does give him away a little.” I paused for a moment and then, addressing Mr. Barton, added, “What on earth is the matter?”
 
Mr. Barton’s muffled replay came between sobs. “Nothing, Mistress Meg.”
 
“Well, you wouldn’t think so, the way you’re carrying on. Stacy, bring the ball gag,” I said sharply. “And let’s get those nipple clamps on you!”

Continue reading “Staff Trouble – Mistress Meg.”

The Pastor comes to tea. Mistress Meg.

I looked at the young pastor and offered him another cup of tea. He sat in my room with a look of hopeful expectation.

“I would love to contribute to your fund, and I must say that, in principle I am of course an avid supporter of anything that helps disadvantaged inner city youth,” and with that I paused and leaned a little closer, my cleavage spilling into his eyeline.

I continued, “But, I wonder, Pastor. What can you do for me?”

The young man looked a little surprised, then replied, “Naturally, I’d like to help my benefactor in any way I can.” I couldn’t help noticing the struggle he was having averting his eyes from my breasts.

Continue reading “The Pastor comes to tea. Mistress Meg.”

Sylvester has entered me!

As summer gently shimmys toward the exit door, and fall gets in the queue to get into the club of the passing year, we’re slowly seeing the weather change. Even Auntie Kittie has started wearing a sweater now and then, a matter of considerable relief to Max, who types up her material.

Auntie Kittie is often surprised how quickly Max gets it up.

“Max is such a dear,” she said the other day. “I’m so grateful he’s so good at putting it in. He’s so thorough.” and then added as an after thought,”… and so quick.”

The poor 20 year old lamb goes the color of a beetroot when he’s embarrassed, and Auntie Kittie will say such things in front of Sylvester and Mistress Meg. And it was Sylvester and Meg who were sitting at my kitchen table this very morning. Sylvester was telling us how in these troubled times we should all be finding ways to lift our spirits. Instead of worrying about the Corona Virus we should be reaching deeply within ourselves and fostering our creativity. Meg was a little skeptical.

I’ve been doing that very thing myself. I’ve been doing a little embroidery, making some of my jeans look a little more feminine by adding a few little designs. It’s really very simple and gives even the most masculine of trousers a nice feminine touch. If you’d like to change your favorite dungarees from the farm yard, or even the ones you wear when cleaning out the slag from the iron foundry this will do just the trick. Even your most stylish denim pants can be personalised and uplifted – and we could all use a personalised uplifting of our denim clad butts, I’m sure you’ll agree.

I leaned over the kitchen table and turned to Sylvester and said, “What do you think of this?”

Sylvester looked at my jeans as I did so, and said, “That’s really very impressive.  I think I should enter you.”

“Sylvester, I…” but before I could speak he went on, as Meg looked on, arms folded and unimpressed.

“I should enter you in the embroidery competition. It’s part of the end of summer cultural fair at the recreation center.”

“Oh, really I don’t think so,” I said. “Most of the people entering are really rather older than I am. They’re quite a conservative lot. I’m really not sure what they’d make of me. I can imagine it would be like that poor South African athlete who they didn’t believe was a woman.”

Sexy jeans – just add heels.

Sylvester looked a little doubtful. “No, I don’t think it would be like that.”

Anyway that’s what I’m doing. Sylvester tells me he’s working on a book. The Complete Idiot’s Guide To Being A Complete Idiot. A catchy title.

“Are you writing it or reading it?” muttered Meg, ever the acerbic wit.

It turns out that half the people in this competition I’m now entered in are young arts students. I thought they’d all be doddery old buffers like Auntie Kittie’s father, who’s staying with her rather than going into a care home. These days that seems a rather good idea. The old fellow is about 150 years old and sits smiling looking into the far horizon. He seems a kindly old fellow, though the dementia is quite complete and he has little idea of what’s going on. He seems cheerful, though.

I said to Auntie Kittie, the other day when I was round there, “He looks like he’s fondly remembering the things he used to do when he was a young man.”

She frowned and agreed.

“Yes, you’re probably right. He’s remembering flying aeroplanes and bombing Germany. He’s always been a belligerent old bugger.”

I suppose we all have our own journeys.

Have a safe, socially distanced week. The Republican convention should provide a few laughs this week… urgh, I can hardly wait.

Fiona

Stacy’s New Job – Mistress Meg.

As I fastened the final leather cuffs to Mr. Barton’s forearms, I turned to Stacy and said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, Stacy, but if I’m not mistaken I can’t help thinking Mr. Barton is not a completely happy man.”
 
For those of you who have been reading my emails to you regularly, you will know I am a very perceptive and sensitive person. I’m very generous by nature and I pick up on these things.
 
“What makes you think that?” said Stacy, as she selected a pair of shiny heavy steel nipple clamps.
 
“Mostly it’s the sobbing. The whimpering, too. The squirming is also something that does give him away a little.” I paused for a moment and then, addressing Mr. Barton, added, “What on earth is the matter?”

Continue reading “Stacy’s New Job – Mistress Meg.”

The Pastor Comes To Tea – Mistress Meg.

I looked at the young pastor and offered him another cup of tea. He sat in my room with a look of hopeful expectation.

“I would love to contribute to your fund, and I must say that, in principle I am of course an avid supporter of anything that helps disadvantaged inner youth,” and with that I paused and leaned a little closer, my cleavage spilling into his eyeline.

I continued, “But, I wonder, Pastor. What can you do for me?”

The young man looked a little surprised, then replied, “Naturally, I’d like to help my benefactor in any way I can.” I couldn’t help noticing the struggle he was having averting his eyes from my breasts.

I smiled at him, placed my hand on his knee, at which he nearly jumped out of his skin, and then I said, “Don’t worry, I’m sure there will come a day when you can do some sort of service for me.”

“Y,yes… Of course. I’ll be happy to…”

“Good! And that day is today!” I replied quickly.

Continue reading “The Pastor Comes To Tea – Mistress Meg.”

Are you lactose intolerant? Don’t tell Mistress Meg.

I am so pleased to see that my personal trainer, Sebastian, is finally calming down. In isolation, along with his sister, Rainbow, he’s been struggling a little with the stress of the process. Here in lovely Vancouver people have been observing the lockdown very well, and as a result we had just one new death yesterday. Of course, even one is one too many, however the process does appear to be working.

He does help me online each morning as I work out, but I can hear the stress in his voice. I mentioned this very thing to Mistress Meg just yesterday.

“He does seem to be a little on edge,” I said. “It makes it hard to relax as I am doing yoga. He is rather highly strung.”

“Yes,” replied Meg. “He probably should be.”

Sympathy is not the primary emotion that springs to mind when chatting with Mistress Meg. Many of you will know her from her writing on my Patreon in the Seahorse level. Never one to stifle her opinions, I think she thinks of Sebastian rather like a puppy that continually looks for approval. She seems unsure whether she should laugh at it, pet it, or give in to the inevitable urge to give it a hefty kick over the nearest fence while no one is looking.

Continue reading “Are you lactose intolerant? Don’t tell Mistress Meg.”

You’re going to thank me, believe me.

I’ve been chatting with a few of the members this week and we’ve been talking about how people are handling social distancing and isolation. Rainbow, Sebastian’s sister, appears to think it’s all a hoax and that it’s really just the authorities trying to disguise the fact that this is the dawn of the zombie apocalypse. She seems to think that’s why the streets are so empty. She says they don’t like the sunlight.

There have been some great suggestions in our Whatsapp Group for activities that make this period a little more fun. When Sophie asked what she could do to keep feeling feminine, Lenni suggested going out and getting some clear nail polish – even if you’re unable to dress in public. It helps you look after your nails and feel feminine.

Continue reading “You’re going to thank me, believe me.”

So many messages this morning.

For those of you that are Seahorse tier members of my Patreon you may be aware that Mistress Meg’s series called The Conversion Of Rick has just completed.  I have had so many nice messages about it.

Many of those messages were lamenting that the weekly episodes are over for that particular story.  Well, don’t despair. I happen to know that Mistress Meg is working on a new series at present that will likely emerge later in the fall.

In the meantime one of her guests has brought in a number of journals and documents which she has been editing and sharing extracts from now and then. The collection is called The Stories Your Mother Never Told You, and they are literally a bundle of yellowing papers found in the loft of Mistress Meg’s guests home. These extraordinary documents detail the sordid exploits of her guest’s mother – a lady who passed on many years ago. As you can imagine, finding such a trove of documents of such a salacious nature was quite traumatizing for her guest.

Not to be unfair this visitor found himself blindfolded and bound securely while Meg and young Stacey read the contents of the journals and diaries aloud. Meg tells me that blind folding her guests helps them focus on the story and the details. He had, I understand, been unwilling to read them himself, worried about the way he might think of his dear mother. Having glanced at the contents I can see his reluctance was well founded.

I was really quite shocked when I heard about it, but what can one do? I try to keep Meg in order but she is a most willful woman. And that young Stacey! She doesn’t make it easier. 

You can now share in Mistress Meg’s enjoyment of these documents by joining my Seahorse Tier and accessing them here:  https://www.patreon.com/fionadobson/posts?tag=Mother%27s%20Stories 

I understand more are being released from time to time.  Perhaps you’d like to comment on them – purely from an educational stand point, of course.

🙂

Fiona

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