The reality of BDSM relationships…

 …. will nowhere feature in this post* as this one is about magic and fairy tales.  Sorry.


Their marriage remained strong all through their lives, I’m happy to be able to report, although it’s true that ‘occasional froggy days’ soon grew to outnumber the non-froggy days.  And she also got a lid for the jar, but that was more because of a very close shave involving her cat than anything one could truly call ‘oppressive’.




Actually, the signs were there from the very first night of the Prince’s ball.  Anyone outside his palace soon after her dramatic arrival would have seen the ‘horses’ gasping in heaving lungfuls of air to get their breath back after the journey – as well as the whip marks on the backs of the ‘horses’ and ‘footmen’.  But if anyone noticed, they didn’t tell the Prince.  Ah well. 



She does occasionally put honey on things.  And not only to attract fire-ants to pegged-down naked humans screaming in fear, just in case you were wondering.


You can bet if I’m ever shrunk by an evil witch, I’ll be no more than three inches tall… four, tops.  It’s just my luck.





On the other hand, with the stepsisters gone and the Prince preoccupied (obsessed, even), Cinderella was able to inherit her father’s cobbler’s business.  She became quite rich, in due course, when the Prince became King and everyone wanted to wear boots like the Queens’*. 



* Or any post here, frankly.

* Note the position of the apostrophe on that word.

Savage beauty

 

Don’t worry: it might sound a bit alarming, but they don’t cost much extra – and it’s basically an honour system anyway, she doesn’t make a list of pre-existing marks like a car hire place.


 

 

The specific clause in the law that she’s charged with actually refers to ‘sexual services’ and not only is there never any sex, but the ‘service’ is all the other way.  So she should be OK.

 

 

 

 

That would be sweet.  Imagine still doing it in fifty years’ time: creaking slowly down to the floor and shakily awaiting the awakening of your angel.




It’s true: you know, they once had to chip out some guy who’d been concreted in almost ten years ago – and he was still alive.  His wife hadn’t changed her mind (in fact, she was onto her third husband by then) but the building was due to be demolished so she paid to have him moved.  Was he grateful to her for saving his life, though?  Honestly, the fuss he made when the concrete began to pour!  He’d obviously learned nothing from all those years he had for reflection – no wonder the marriage hadn’t worked out.



Specially not when we’re all stwapped down and tewwified.

 

Your saintlike face and your ghostlike soul


It’s easy to tell when someone’s smiling, even behind a medical mask.

 

 

 

Original sins, so to speak.  Ho de ho.

 

 

 

Now here’s a lady with an original approach to BDSM. It might seem surprising that a bee-keeping outfit can actually be more scary than the traditional leather uniforms, but believe me: once you’ve experienced that kind of play, you’ll agree that it is.




She got accustomed to having her own way when they were all encouraged to stay in character on-set and she’s never really readjusted to the real world.  Probably best to humour her.  Her  entourage do: that’s why they got you.


 

 

Like many guys I vividly remember the very first time I totally failed to have sex with a girl.  She was rather sweet about it, actually, which in retrospect is a shame, as if she’d humiliated and mocked me, I might have got excited and been able to rise to the situation.  Oh well… it was very special, anyway.

 

Contemptuous liaisons

 

Looks like only one person in this relationship is making any effort.  That’s not a formula for long-term happiness.


 

 

Why are so many women so imprecise when it comes to numbers?  They say things like “only for a few hours” , “in a few weeks’ time”, “a few dozen, and then maybe the same on your thighs”…  when did ‘few’ start to have such painful connotations?

 

 

 

She’s a perfectionist.  I hope you are, too.

 

 

 

The teddy bear is only a temporary expedient while she buys you a blow-up sex doll.  She’s just trying to choose between the ‘Sven’ and ‘Muscle Man’ models.

 


She makes a compelling argument, you have to admit.


 

 

 

 

 

 

A fondness for reading, properly directed, must be an education in itself

Another look back in time, to the more elegant and yet sweetly brutal femdom of yesteryear.

 

 

She had remarkably progressive attitudes for her time, as you can tell.  Indeed, I believe she visited the former colony, by then a thriving republic, later in her life and has something of a claim to being the founder of ‘BBC fetishism’, now so very popular on the Internet.

 

 

Cecily has a lot to learn… as does George, but soon after this, the ladies engaged a very experienced governess to help with all that and never had to bother themselves about him again.

 

 

 

She’s beautiful when she’s vexed.

 

 

 

What a fine moral compass that young lady has!  I’m sure it will stand her in good stead when she marries.

 

 

 

 

And one too large to fit as a caption, even one as wordy as those above.

My dearest Emilia

Of course, my first communication on my return from honeymoon can only be to my dearest school friend, so here you find me writing.  Goodness, what an exciting time we had!  So many tea dances, sonnet recitals and long country walks in the rain, it made my head quite spin.

And of course, marital bliss.  Dear, dearest Emilia, I was reminded of the little games you and I used to play at school – do you recall, in the dorm, when the nuns had ceased patrolling for the night?  Silly, girlish games, really, but I recall them with great affection.  I was reminded for some reason of our little ‘tickling contests’ under the sheets.  Do you recollect, my dear, your telling me that our little games were useful practice for romance with a man?  All that kissing and petting and… other things?  Well, my dear, the ‘real thing’ so to speak is a little similar in some respects but very different in others.  It is quicker, for one thing.  Much, much quicker. I had barely thought it started, when – done!  Men are so much more efficient in these matters, it seems.

Also, nothing in my previous experience had prepared me for the important role that my shoes would play in ‘rousing’ Harold to the right state of enthusiasm.  Nor the necessity of securing my husband
tightly to the bed with straps, to prevent harm to his delicate wife.  All most ‘educational’. 
Perhaps these things are ‘old hat’ to you, my dear, living your glamorous life in London.  Although I understand your social circle consists almost entirely of women.  So perhaps not.


Would you care to visit some time, dear Emilia?  Even a married woman must not forget her old school chums.  Why, peculiarly enough, I have been thinking a lot of Lydia, lately: old ‘slipper’ herself, the terror of the dorms when she was a prefect.  I happened to mention her to Harold for some reason or other and he seemed quite fascinated, so I had to recount all the details of how we suffered under her hand! And of course you and I would comfort each other afterwards, kissing all that poor bruised flesh better.  However, I thought Harold would not be interested in that part of the tale, so did not bore him with it.

So, Emilia, dearest, do write back with the utmost haste to arrange some dates for a visit.  Or simply arrive!  We do not have much space to spare but I am confident we can squeeze you in!  For three days of the week Harold inspects the farms in the North of the county, so it will just be the two of us – oh, and my young housemaid Agnes, of course.

We could even share a bed.

        Mmmm….  Perhaps not.

We could even share a bed.  It would be just like old times, my dearest Emilia, so do act without delay and I look forward impatiently to once
again holding you in my arms and

        No.

holding you in my arms and conversing with my dearest, closest friend.

It brings me great joy to be presented to the world as ‘Mrs Melchett’ but to you, my dearest, I fondly hope always to be your beloved and

        and… and… and…         ah yes!

 affectionate

 

Anne

Permissive society

Contrary to what many people ill-informed about femdom relationships might imagine, I am not oppressed by my SO, in fact she actually makes a point of bestowing small freedoms on me.  For example, she grants me a financial allowance out of my earnings, quite frequently permits me to speak as long as that privilege is not abused and even (speaking of abuse) permits occasional sexual release.  I’m very lucky that way, as I often find myself compelled to tell her.


Like many submissive men, I find arguing with my SO can make me feel quite uncomfortable – sometimes immediately, sometimes over an extended period of time.




It’s the dreading that’s the worst part, I understand.





Whatevs.




Teasing and denial.




It’s the little things in a relationship that really define it.







Miss rule

 

I
usually find that my main thought during ‘thinking time’ is ‘I think I
can’t stand this much longer’ but my SO says it helps and I don’t like
to contradict her.


 

 

I think she’s over-reacting. First rule of army life: ‘stuff goes missing’, amiright?

 

 

 

That does sound fun.  Don’t worry if you don’t get it the first time – you can have as many goes as you like, subject to any withdrawal limitations imposed by your bank (and you may want to try asking for those to be lifted, it’ll increase your chance of success).

 


They do other things too.  But mainly that.


I think you’re about to make two lovely ladies very happy.


 

May not deal in doubt or pity

 

 

I’ve managed to give up quite a few little vices over the years – turns out, you don’t really need willpower, or rather you can rely on someone else’s.

 

 

 

My SO likes to speak hypothetically, for example when describing ever more elaborate situations in which she might allow me an orgasm.

 

 

 

 

The evangelicals will be relieved to discover that the OWK ladies are, for the most part, not actually observant Catholics. Although they do believe in the concepts of original sin, penance and purgatory.


 


It’s like any job, except that no domme has ever been known to assert that the customer is always right.




Mmmm… No, no.




 

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