Month: June 2019

Freddie’s back

If you like Contemplating the Divine* then you will certainly have loved Freddie’s Tales.**  You, therefore, like me, will have been devasted when Freddie’s Tales disappeared from one day to the next. Also like me, therefore***, you will be absolutely delighted that Freddie is back, with a new blog and no doubt just raring to produce more of  those fabulous Beetle books.

So get yourself over to Freddie’s new blog. I – hey come back!  I didn’t mean now.  Read the captions below first, moron.  That’s what you came here for, right?  Men… I dunno.



My SO and I have been experimenting with pre-signed suicide notes.  It’s a kind of next-level thing, you know?  Edgy, I know, but it works for us.








I think I can give her 110%.
Sounds like you are actually going to be discussing it… at length.  But not until you’re safely married.
Consent seems to be a theme of this post.  That’s because it’s so important.  My SO always insists that I consent to everything she does to me.
 
Thank goodness they no longer hunt foxes.  That was so cruel.





*  And if you don’t like Contemplating the Divine what the fuck are you doing here? Are you some kind of weird masochist or something?  Freak.

**  Except the Femsub bits, obviously.  One day, I hope young Freddie will meet a lady who will set him right about the suitability of that sort of material.


*** Writing this, I realise how uncannily similar we are, you and I.  We laugh at the same things, cry together – we should get a drink some time, yeah?

I stand to be corrected

… or I bend over, or I just wriggle slightly in the bonds, making little mmphing pleading sounds.

There are no ‘behavioural problems’, only behavioural opportunities, my SO always says.  And I agree with her.


What many men who dabble in men’s lib don’t get is how profoundly offensive it is to women, to suggest that the sexes are equal.  I mean, how do you think she’d feel, to be told she’s no better than…  well… you?

Hypothermia play!  Mmmm….

Actually, I’m more of a leg man.  So, with a bit of luck…. oh dear.

Customs change – what was acceptable in times gone by is profoundly offensive nowadays.  I went to a stage show the other night which featured an on-stage spanking and I just cringed. I wasn’t even in the front row either – how come I always get picked?


NC NSFW and NTBTS

… that last being ‘not to be taken seriously’.  Anyone actually thinking this blog is serious in any way should erm… well, should try and take themselves out of the gene pool to be honest.*

So, here is the second installment in Servitor’s completely non-sensical, non-serious series on non-consensual BDSM play.  Enjoy.



* Although in practice most of the males reading this blog are unlikely to
be contributing much to the next generation’s gene pool anyway.  I
mean, no offence, guys, but have you looked in a mirror?  Eugh – and that’s before you start explaining your sexual preferences to the partner who’s rapidly pulling on her clothes and thumbing for an Uber.  The only pool of genes you’re going to be contributing to is that dried up stain on the floor, just beneath your computer.  Sorry – but I’m only telling you this because I’m your friend, you know that, right?



Painful conversations



They have a 97% record of safe deliveries, so there’s actually very little to worry about, as long as you’ve been a good husband.

And I’m sure Herbert’s is not a cock he’d like suck either!  So why on earth are they doing it?  Men are odd.

If you’re thinking of trying this, be careful, OK?  Those chastity inspectors are no joke.  She could lose her keyholder licence and you could lose your… well anyway, just be careful, yeah?
Actually, that’s not quite true. She loves her job, but she’d rather be doing ear, nose and throat surgery. That’s where her real interest lies, but apparently you have to do a stint in every department before you can specialise.





Hmm.  It’s tricky, isn’t it?




We shall not see their like again

Not
really a femdom post.  But farewell, to the late and great Paul
Darrow.  Jacqueline Pearce passed last year.  Thanks for the ’80s, both of you.

Not really a femdom image, I’ll admit.

Oh, but this so is.

Now isn’t that a sweet gesture? I actually had the honour once of meeting and playing with Mistress Servalan in Sydney and very lovely and creative she is.
Not quite sure what’s going on here, but given the theme of this blog, we’ll assume Servalan’s winning.
That’s more like it.  Definitely a punishment sesssion

…and some post-session aftercare too.

I can still hear you saying

… you would never break the chain.


Oh, not again…

Do you know, I think I might be so full after all that, I don’t think I could face a dessert? But fortunately, no one cares what I think.

I’ve suffered from a few sexual complaints in my time.
Well, it’s hardly my fault.  I mean – I just glanced at her. For two seconds – three, tops!







It’s tough, being a responsible adult.  So I’ve heard.


Household rulers




I’m normally done in 15 seconds anyway, actually.

Some evenings she likes just to chain him to the cold cellar floor, come upstairs, grab a bottle of Chardonnay and a box of tisues and settle down to a good rom-com on TV.

As long as the first ring goes on OK, erections shouldn’t be a problem.

That is the deal.  I have yet to discover when, if ever, is ‘off shift’.
I seem to spend my whole life charging devices – if it’s not the shock collar, it’s the phone, and all her vibrators need constantly to be fully charged too… modern world, I suppose.


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