alpha females – Page 10 – Contemplating the divine

And he loves it when she beats his brains out

(he’s pecked to death but he loves the pain)

She’s not talking to you.

I think you’re about to get a free session.

I think we can all agree and rejoice that this is the lovely Jean Bardot, can we not?

Hmmm. Two captions in one post about a domme actually hurting someone who doesn’t want to be hurt. Servitor – reprinting the same old shit since 2011.

I like an unhurried session. For example, I’ve got a humiliation scene going that’s been building nicely for… oooh, about 47 years now.

Bloody typical! Doesn’t ask me how my day was, does she? But to be fair, it’s hard to say at this stage whether it’s been a good, bad or howlingly agonising day. Not until she’s decided.

Leashed to a frenzy

It’s nearly time for your next session anyway. Might as well just stay.

She loves him really.

Won’t be saying that again. Or anything else, I imagine.

Poor thing. Still another 20 minutes of the session to go. Her hand must be so sore.

I wonder what she does with them all? It’s only a small apartment.

We’re not worthy

Just never met the right girl, I guess. Hard to strike up a meaningful conversation in seven seconds or less.

Happy to be of service.

Shame she doesn’t get sexual pleasure out of the beatings. That’s two of you, then.

It’ s easy to get confused.

No comment.

Helpless devotion

Remember – you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, OK? Unless she orders you to. Obviously.

If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing properly, they say.

He probably thought about that quite a lot. But best not to argue. You know what happens when you argue.

Makes a lot of sense.

Yeah. Her Kink is not His Kink, you see. Actually, Her Kink is not Anybody’s Kink, to be completely honest.

He married a maths teacher

Now then, Colin, you’re…let’s see – five foot three in
height.

Runty little shortass.

Aaaannd your cock is… oh dear oh dear – three inches long.

Yes it is – look.

Oh for goodness’ sake.
All right, because the room’s a bit cold we’ll call it three and a
quarter, OK?

So – how much of you consists of cock? Can you work it out?

Sixty three inches tall, with a cock that’s three inches
long. Yes, all right, three and a
quarter. Pathetic.

So…? Three and a
quarter goes into sixty-three how many times?

Yes., it would be easier if it were just three into
sixty-three, wouldn’t it? But Mr Big
Swinging Quarter Inch insisted, didn’t he?
So now he’s going to have to work a bit harder.

Nineteen and…. Nineteen and a bit, you say? What – a little extra foreskinny bit?

OK, yes, let’s call it one in 20.

So – what proportion of you is cock?

No, not one in twenty.

Hmmm?

Well, because you’re not one-dimensional, of course. Except emotionally.

No, that was a joke.
Look – even though you look like a single long stream of piss, you are
in fact a three-dimensional object, so your mass and volume go up in proportion
to…?

In proportion to…?

Sigh. No, not
‘pi’. In proportion to the cube of your
length.

Your cock is one-twentieth of your length, so it constitutes
about one over twenty cubed of you.
Which is?

One four thousandth?
Do you need the cane? I knew we
should have done this as a schoolboy detention game. Try again.

Eight thousand!
Correct! Finally.

Now, you spend about six thousand hours each year
awake.

So – how much time each year should you spend playing with
your cock? Hmm? If that’s proportional to its size?

That’s right.
Three-quarters.

Every year, you get to spend 45 minutes playing with your
cock. Not all at once, obviously. I was thinking maybe three fifteen-minute
goes.

No, I don’t want to discuss it, I just want you to say ‘Yes
Chloe’ and thank me.

That’s right.

Oh don’t look so depressed.
Imagine how bad it would be if you were of normal height!

…and it wouldn’t be such fun beating you up, either.

Like a christian fearing vengeance from above…

…I don’t pretend to know what you want, but I offer love.

(trigger warning: vanilla link. For no obvious reason, I’ve always thought of the song as rather D/S… but I think that of many things).

Don’t worry if you’re still confused. Things will be made clear.

I think that’s disgraceful. Just because we’re submissive doesn’t mean ladies can treat us like doormats, can they? Well, I mean, obviously, if a lady like one of these wanted to treat me literally as a doormat, that would be fine, wiping her muddy boots across my back, but erm… OK, maybe they can then.

And you prefer not being gay too, don’t you, so it sounds like you and Master Mark are very compatible!

Get another one, of course. There’s plenty. Hello! Ma’am? Over here!

I offer love… this is one of the most Significant of the Others in my life. Lady Sophia Black is simply wonderful.

It’s uncanny

I was using a thesaurus to look up synonyms for the word ‘impotent’ (I read somewhere it’s not a good idea to repeat precisely the same language in successive lonely hearts ads), and I read the following:

Impotent:

helpless
inadequate
incapable
incompetent
ineffective
ineffectual
inept
paralyzed
powerless
sterile
unproductive

It’s almost as if the thesaurus compilers had met me. The power of words, eh? But enough of that, let’s turn to the power of dominant women, because that’s what you came here for, right?

Everyone should have a hobby. I have several.

I think that although ‘the overall parameters’ might originally have been consensual, it’s probably not a good idea to try to renegotiate those now, either.

Oh dear. I think this Chuck sounds a bit overbearing, don’t you? Maybe you should have a word.

It’s silly to think she’s denied you a last orgasm. I mean, you had a last orgasm already, right?

It’s good to do things together, as a family.

Because she says so

…is there ever any other reason?

It’ll help take your mind off the pain, while you’re waiting, anyway. Nothing like ‘more pain’, to do that.

How exciting! I wonder who it is?

It’s good to talk these things through. And then to smack them out.

You’ve either seen the movie or you haven’t.

Can’t stop staring at.. the …gloves…! Oh, er, right! Dinner. yes, right away.

Rentrée

Literally, a re-entering, so obviously it’s not to be taken literally in my case. But here we are, back again.

Same old, same old.

But more so.

If you know what I mean.

Update: thank you all for the kind comments, while I was away. Sorry I didn’t respond at the time, but if you check back you should find that I have now.

…and while I was away, this blog went over 3 million page hits/views whatever it is! Many of them by automated search bots no doubt, others perhaps by worthless little pathetic worms of no importance or interest to anyone whatsoever (if you’re wondering whether you’re one of them, then you probably are, like me), but even so it’s a nice big number. Thank you all.

Update again. Don’t you just love the horse picture? Not the caption, necessarily. Just the picture. Isn’t it great?

It’s a bit unfair, really. I mean he makes as much noise as he likes. Doesn’t get the fucking sjambok, either. Why do we put up with this sort of thing?

Tawse ready and waiting for naughty boys

I’ve been caught shopkeeping eleven times, now. Oh dear… am I out of butter again? Off to the shops…

Femdom wife humiliation and enslavement oh my

He’s taking a subtle revenge for the lifetime of humiliation and suffering she imposed, though. He’s over-salted the popcorn. Only slightly – but enough to notice, you know? Haha!

You know, people can often behave very differently at home and at work. Although actually, she doesn’t.

I love this picture. I quite like my caption to it, too.

A bonus one, because I am by no means sure this one is actually femdom.

Unreasonable force

He’s a lucky guy.

Planet Femdom, of course. If you like statuesque ladies brutally dominating… well, that bloke mostly. I do, actually. Rather a lot.

Cruelty-free farming has its downsides. Still, I’m glad she found a solution.

Oh dear. Another of those painful conversations.

Actually, the story is rather simple. The post of office tampon boy was advertised, so he studied, and prepared and pulled every string he knew of to get it. But wouldn’t you?

Try not to take it too badly. Just because you’ll be spending the rest of your life alone, in poverty, with your empty days filled only with the longing for her doesn’t mean you have to be miserable. It just makes it very, very likely.