Czeching accounts

Some newly arrived slaves fear that a night alone and abandoned in a cold prison cell will be hard to take – but they often find that, actually, when the Ladies arrive the next morning to take them out, they find themselves looking back fondly on the hours of merely being uncomfortable and cold, with a nice strong steel door between themselves and the rest of OWK.

 

 

Looks like he’s losing.  They always do, oddly enough.

 

 

 

 

The local hospital is getting a bit fed up, to be honest.  I mean, there’s pandemic on: they can’t keep dealing with minor fractures and burns, the whole time.

 

Of course, you’ll want something to wash it down with.  They do have an expert sommelière but actually all of the ladies are ready and only too willing to whip out a funnel and provide some liquid refreshment to their own personal specification. 


 

 

 

 

 

Some of the ladies love waking up to the cheerful singing of the ‘guests’ working beneath their windows.  Others hate it and storm outside furiously, at the slightest sound, to dole out misery to anyone disturbing their precious sleep.  But then at OWK, you have to take the rough with… well, you have to take the rough, anyway.

 

 

 

 

Shame game

Fine, but I’m not putting his condom on for him this time.  I have my pride.

 

 

Don’t worry – the guys might think you look silly at first, but I’m sure they’ll be impressed when you go into your dance routine.

 

 

 

 

For a while my orgasm day was 29 February, but ‘we’ decided to stop all that, as it was getting a bit repetitive and predictable.

 

 

 

Women and knots, eh?  Bless ’em.

Which is a bit unfair if you have a fetish for being humiliatingly searched by ladies in positions of authority.  Oh well, at least she’s not wearing her uniform, so there’s a chance.


 

 

 

Stern words

One of the nice things about being submissive is that you’re rarely in any doubt about whether your partner’s in the mood for sex, or precisely what she wants to do (and indeed, with whom).

 

 

 

 

She was kind enough to give him a long warm-up before the painful bit, so I hope he’ll be brave.  If not, the shackles attaching him to the cross can be brave for him.




I believe some of the wedding guests have sprayed the van with silly string and attached tin cans and all sorts of other stuff to the back of it.  You won’t actually see it, from inside the sack, of course, but it’s nice to know these traditions are being maintained.




Marriage guidance counsellors recommend the anal hook – it’s amazing how much easier those petty marital disagreements go, once you’re dangling.


 

 

Oh no – not the comfy chair!


 

 

 

 

 

A total portrait with no omissions

 The divine Ms Harry, for contemplation and worship.


Sometimes she’s in the mood for screaming and frantic pleading but right now she’s trying to enjoy her book, so just keep it down, hmm?




She can show you both heaven and hell – as, to be fair, can the priest but in a very different way.

See?  Cruella’s not all about bleak post-industrial settings.  This photo-shoot’s in a bleak pre-industrial setting and a refreshing change it is too.



Don’t you just hate being the third one on a date?  I do – but she doesn’t seem to care.




Go on – not many kinksters get to live out their fantasies in reality.


Mine’s ‘maggot’, by a curious coincidence.  But can readers of this blog keep that to themselves, please?  You can’t be too careful these days.  Fortunately my SO is the only one who knows the really important passwords, like the one for our bank account.  I wonder what these two need yours for? Still… best not to argue.










It started with a slap

 

Damn.  Maybe she gets more practice than you do… but then life doesn’t always have to be fair.

 

 

 

Bad in a good way, I hope.  And good in a bad one.

 

 

 

 

 

I think it’s great when wives respect their husbands enough to want to talk things through and hear their opinions, before taking important decisions.

 

 

They say being able to make women laugh is a great gift.




That’s another admirable characteristic in a partner: not being afraid to tackle the really painful stuff in the relationship.



 

 

Bippity-bop

Especially for all those readers who’ve been clamouring for captions of femdom in realistic, domestic settings – another post featuring fairytales and magic.  What can I say… if you’re not into being treated with contempt, don’t read the blog, yeah?


Story of my life… I start chatting to a pretty young lady and it’s going well, then up comes some handsome stud and I just get crushed underfoot and my sticky, bloody remains fed to the pigeons.  Happens. Every. Single. Time.



It’s lucky the castle has facilities to contain a wild beast securely.  In fact, I’ve heard it has capacity for several, so you’ll be perfectly safe.




She’s not good at small-talk, but I’m sure that when she meets the Prince that won’t be an obstacle to their romance blossoming.




Occasionally you’ll spend an hour or so being only eight inches long – tall, I mean.  But you need to practice holding your breath before she’ll try that.


Don’t worry, she’ll look after you.







The very lazy OWKerpillar

 In a cold prison cell, an OWK slave shivered on the floor.

One Sunday morning, the Ladies arrived slap! – out of his cell he went to be dressed as a very lazy caterpillar.

They started to give him orders.

 

On Monday, they made him crawl the length the corridor from one end of the Queen’s Castle to the other ten times, kicking him to help him along.  But he was still lazy.

 

 

On Tuesday they beat him to make him wriggle to the top of the hill twenty times.  But he was still lazy.



On Wednesday, they made him flop his way around the mud on the edge of the pond thirty times, pushing his head down into the mud beneath their boots each time he came past.  But he was still lazy.

 

On Thursday, they held a contest in which he had to compete against other human caterpillars in races, boot-licking contests, testicle-tug-of-wars and ‘most pitiful begging’ competitions.  The losers each got forty strokes of the cane.  The winner also got forty strokes of the cane.  But he was still lazy.

 

 

On Friday, they suspended him from a tree, with weights clipped to his nipples and genitals and swung him around and around with punches and kicks, until he had come up with fifty amusingly shameful names for a human caterpillar.  But he was still lazy.



On Saturday, they just lost it.  They strung him up by his ankles, whipped away what was left of his caterpillar costume with a cat o’nine tales then each took a bullwhip and went for him, flogging methodically up and down his body while he screamed for mercy, then they used a cattle prod on his genitals, kicked him in the face, pushed pins through his foreskin and scrotum, then dragged him back to his cell, pissed on him and left him there, weeping and moaning in pain.  That evening, he regretted coming to OWK more than he had ever regretted anything in his life.

 


On Sunday, he lay alone, cold and hungry in his cell.

Now he remembered he wasn’t a human caterpillar but a successful businessman called Christoph.  Outside, he had money, houses and cars – he dressed in fine clothes, not rags and tatters; he ate at Michelin-starred restaurants, rather than gulping slops off a concrete floor and no one hit him, put clamps on his flesh or trod on his face.  He resolved to tell these crazy Czech Ladies he had had enough and he would rather cancel the second week of his ‘punishment stay’.  They could keep the fucking money – he wanted out.

So later that day, when they came to open his cell, he looked up, smiled confidently, started to speak and…


They hit him in the face, shoved a ball-gag into his gaping mouth, pulled a leash tight around his bollocks and dragged him off to the Courtyard, to carry bricks from one side to the other in the rain.

He was a stupid, useless male object.



I thought we should finish with a happy picture: well done Madame Christine!


Tearful conversations

Anybody else want to negotiate?

 

 

 

It’s recreational for her, anyway – although there’s a serious element to it too. 

 

 

 

I wonder what the OWK Ladies would have done, had the wall not come down in 1989 and no Velvet Revolution occurred?  Oh, they’re so talented I am sure they have found some kind of niche within the totalitarian system where their skills could be useful, but it would have been very different.



Just try to think unsexy thoughts while they do it.  Reading this blog should give you some ideas.



Once again, I do have a bit of a gripe here.  I mean, sometimes it’s “I want the truth and I’m going to keep on increasing the voltage until I get it’ and next it’s ‘Keep your nasty little opinions to yourself.’  It just doesn’t always seem entirely fair, is all I’m saying, but I suppose it’s best not to complain.

 

Romantic disdain


Women… sometimes they want you to scream hysterically, cry and beg for mercy, sometimes it’s just ‘annoying’.  My SO gave me 24 hard strokes with the cane yesterday and when I started shrieking and pleading frantically (on or maybe just before stroke number two, if I recall correctly) she told me she was ‘just not in the mood’.  I mean, at that point I was committed, you know?  It’s a physical thing for us guys… can’t just switch it off.




The frightening – truly terrifying – thing about assisting with any kind of competitive sport in OWK is that one of the Ladies has to lose.  They often don’t take it with good grace, you know.



Needless to say, inflicting this sort of public BDSM play on passing strangers is not OK.  And even worse when it’s in front of members of your family, as here.



The customer is always right.


 

 

 

The gimp hoods are going on in the later, private ceremony.  When you and flappy-ears take your real vows.

 

 

Verified by MonsterInsights