Category: beach bunnies

Slavish loyalty

…it’s the best sort.

While they’re gone, the areas on your back they left free of suncream should get nicely sunburnt, so you can pass the time trying to work out what word they wrote.
Thank goodness for that.
Kevin’s going to stand up and be a man. For once.
I admire high-powered career women like her. She manages to hold time a full time job and still take care of inspecting all the housework, as well as putting a lot of time and effort into the relationship itself.
Fortunately, shrieking hysterically when subjected to even moderate CP is something I’m really good at, as every domme I have ever sessioned with can attest.
You’re special, never forget that. She won’t.

Come along, darling

Don’t dawdle.

Oooh… 50% of the way there! That’s closer than I’ve ever got.
It’s not as high-margin a business as you might expect, but fortunately some of her labour costs are very low indeed. Speaking of which, have you negotiated your salary yet? No? OK.
From the look of the sea, they’ve got ages… which is just as well, because Julie can be quite slow to get aroused, unless she can use her cattle prod.
Every poet should have a muse. This lucky lad has two.
And let’s not have any old-fashioned patriarchal nonsense about ‘earning’ it, OK? It’s not your salary, not now you’re married.
You might find it hard to imagine you’ll forget you’re wearing something as heavy and bulky as that, but believe me: once the nipple clamps go on and the scrotal ring is properly anchored to your ankle chain, you’ll hardly notice it.

Unethical statements

Both, probably.

  

 

She’ll have to break me first…. eeek!

 

 

 

Yes, doing the little dance routine should definitely help with the feeling of humiliation.

 

 

 

I’m never sure whether I prefer sand or seaweed for my punishment meals when we’re at the beach.  Not that I actually get to choose, of course.

 

No harm done.  Sissy didn’t need those knees.

 

 

 

 

You know, I’ve often been struck


She’s actually communicating her feelings on several different levels here.  It’s a Mars/Venus thing – you don’t have to understand but you could at least try to feel her pain.



If you argue it might go on longer – and wouldn’t that be just awful?




Some of us are already having the cry, thanks.  Although oddly it’s the cuddle that usually brings them on in floods.




What to do, what to do… You might want to try playing safe. They won’t let you (and anyway, you’re not safe), but I expect you’ll want to try.





She’s being rather unfair here.  She often is: if you want my honest opinion, she’s a vicious and vindictive person with serious anger management issues.  Always was.  Anyway – congratulations on your special day!  I’m sure you’ll be very.. well, maybe you’ll both be…  anyway, congratulations, yeah?  You’re a lucky guy.  We all think so.







Who loves the sun?

I do!  After a miserable rainy May, we now have bright sunshine chez elle (i.e. where I live) and I thought I’d do a sun-drenched special to celebrate summer’s balmy days. Admittedly, I myself haven’t yet seen the sun, as there are no windows in the part of the house where I live (not a problem, of course – after all, what would be the point, this far underground?).  But she’s promised to break out the summer sweaters and the heavy rubber gimp suit, to take me out into the garden this weekend to where the treadmill awaits, bathed in sunshine.  So that’ll be a nice change.  I’ve also just booked a romantic stay for two at a beach resort for later in the summer, but I wont divulge the details as she hasn’t decided which boyfriend to take with her.  They get so jealous – especially a certain old bull I won’t name! *

Anyway, here we are: summery captions.

 

 

I doubt that.  I have actually become quite good at accurately judging women’s weight. But sometimes you have to tell them little white lies – bless them. The number of times I’ve had to control my breathing carefully to say ‘no, no – light as a feather!’ without gasping…

 

 

It’s great.  Yeah.  I’m getting quite good at never having any sexy thoughts at all, as long-term readers of this blog will know only too well.

 

 

Oh… don’t mind me.


 

She
likes long walks in the country, getting caught in the rain and keeping
up with the latest developments in applied metallurgy.

 

Actually, I brought a spare myself.  I always do, just in case.  I mean, imagine how awful it would be to run into Gal by chance and not have a leather belt or similar implement on you… a lifetime of regret would await.



* Regular readers shouldn’t worry.  There’ll always be a place for Raoul in her heart – and in her vagina, mouth and anus, too of course.

Good authority

Actually, she found him quite easily.  She’s clever like that.

 

 

 

Hmmm… well, I suppose it makes a change from having to deal with uncomfortably large things.

 

 

 

I think your educational prospects just became a lot brighter.  No one forgets a really committed teacher.




They have separate resuscitation practice sessions, but they do that inside with the volunteer strapped to a table.  One of the girls is ex-military and has done some waterboarding, so it’s all very safe.




Remember: professional submission is not prostitution.  He should consider himself more as a therapist, helping clients deal with feelings of anger.

Back to reality

… well, the loose approximation of it represented by this blog, anyway.


The holiday, since you ask, was fantastic.  It was in one of those picture-perfect resorts, you know, with the palm trees coming down to the powdery sand sloping down to a turquoise lagoon.  But not at all crowded – it’s a private beach belonging to the hotel and at the prices I was paying, I can tell you, there’d just better be some serious privacy!  And the hotel was as spectacular as the price implied: the rooms, the food, the pool… made a lot of new friends too, apparently.


What do you mean, ‘how do I know’?  She sent me a postcard, of course.  I mean, I didn’t actually see it until after my release because the kennels don’t allow postal deliveries, but I expect she didn’t know that and it was a very kind thought.  She was having so much fun, she hadn’t even put enough postage on it, the silly thing!  Had to come out of my pocket money.  I’d been saving for.. well, I mustn’t complain.

Another year, another… maybe 550 or so captioned images? It hardly bears thinking about, does it?  Better get on…


Stick-fetching is one of those things that sensible husbands quickly learn is not really up for discussion.
You know, I think she might be about to confess her life-long fantasy of making love to a short, slightly overweight guy wearing a frilly french maid outfit.  Give her time.
It’s a shame they can’t both win.
Damn.  That was going well.

It’s awful wearing a chastity belt on a beach – sands gets in, apparently. Not that I’d know.  Sensible concrete floors, that’s what we had in the kennels.  Fresh straw on Thursdays.


Senseful brutality


Well.. someone might mind, actually.  But no one who matters.








Goodness, what a large one.  As no woman has ever said to me, in my entire life. More seriously, though, I really, really like this caption. If you don’t like this one then you are probably ‘reading’ the wrong femdom blog, because as far as I’m concerned, this is as good as it gets (sorry).


Actually, I stopped complaining to Mum when I realised she was always going to take my sister’s side.  And obviously there was no point complaining to Dad – he tried to stick up for me once, and we both got a spanking for his trouble.

 

Looking?  Looking where?








Actually, I really like this one too…

My company was charming

Well, what am I supposed to do with the other 38 seconds, then?








Thank goodness she’s looking out for me.




Don’t try to argue or plead your way out of it – it’s one of those Mars/Venus things, you know?  She’s got some emotional issues that need to be worked out and until Gerald arrives, you’re the only one she can turn to.






In the femdom community, athlete’s foot is considered an STD.






You’ll notice she hasn’t put the surfboard on the fire yet. Another Mars/Venus moment, yeah?  Any ideas why ? Hmm?  No? Sigh…because she’s waiting to see if you’ll do it yourself without being specifically asked, you unfeeling brute. Obviously, this relationship is going to need a lot of work.


Miss-judged



I’ve been a very bad wolf.

Actually, there’s a funny story about this one.  It turned out there were no fewer than three Miguels on the beach!  So as you can imagine things got a little embarassing – and of course we soon ran out of condoms and beer, so I had to run back to the shop. Still, it all worked out OK in the end.

You can cary an orgasm donor card, you know: ‘I want to help someone come when I die’?  Not that it really makes much difference, but prior consent is a thing with some people.

I think he’s looking at her funny now.  Some men never learn, huh?

And the evening, and the next day too, if need be. One wrist can outlast a great many bottoms, as any schoolmistress will attest.


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