Category: caption

Until morale improves


There is actually a technique for pushing a pole all the way through a man’s alimentary canal without causing internal injuries.  Sadly, she doesn’t know it.

I would explain, but Someone doesn’t allow me to speak to strangers.  Or, indeed, people we know.

Residents staying for longer get a food dispenser too.  But you’ll be OK without – it’s only ten days.
 This is the lovely, clever and witty Tiffany Naylor, yet another Lady who has had the misfortune to encounter Servitor in ‘person’.
I’m surprised he can afford to visit her, on a teacher’s salary.  Still, he gets his money’s worth.

I’ve actually set up my loozr account so it automatically sends a message to any woman who spends longer than five minutes within ten metres of me.  I don’t know what the message says, but on the very rare ocasions it’s been used, it seems to have been quite effective.


Matronising attitudes

Well, all right. As long as I get to have my say on the subject.

That’s fair.
It’s so hard to choose sometimes, isn’t it?  Hmm… would I rather have a cock in my mouth or a turd? It’s so hard being submissive – I’ll bet other sexual perversions don’t end up causing such dilemmas.

It’s actually doubly unfair to set particularly hard questions to boys, because we’re stupider.

Hope she reads the instructions.  Apparently, if you exceed the recommended dose, it can cause quite a lot of discomfort. I mean, more than the intended discomfort, obviously.


Domesticated bliss

Oh…  now there was a reason. What on earth was it?  Ermmm… let me think.
It’s her next project for the garden, after the sun deck is all done.

They say that dieting requires self-discipline, but I’ve never found I needed any.


Oh, humour her.  Women can be silly about these things.  An occasional waterboarding is a small price to pay for a harmonious mariage, hmm?








Nothing.  Yet.

That would be funny…

… if it weren’t so sad.



Actually, there’s a perfectly simple explanation. Just tell her you’re a pervert.





You can get quite sweaty dressed up like that.  Hope the other guests have brought plenty of liquids.


Hee hee. Brad might think he’s her favourite lover, but she doesn’t put the spotty socks on for him, does she?  I know where her true affections lie.  Anyway, better get on with it, there’s ironing to do (yum!).
Very true. We each have our special skill. Mine is ‘incompetence’.
Blubbolow fllabbo ploh?


The other was me and I’m a boy

Never quite sure what The Who were complaining about in that song. Looks to me like an idyllic childhood.

You can earn free hair grips and stuff when you spend money too – pretty cool, huh?


She tries so hard… but usually fails.
That’s a bit unfair.  I once told my SO that I could do any job a woman can do, so she arranged an internshp at a brothel, giving blow-jobs to oil rig workers on shore leave. To be honest, I wasn’t quite as good at it as the girls but I had plenty of clients once they priced me at a 95% discount.
Yeah, how about it Dave?  Equal pay for equal work.  Stand up for yourself and be a man, for once.  Or ‘you go, girl!’.  Whatever.

Our pillory’s my special place.  I can spend hours at a time in there, not really doing anything in particular, you know?


Pet sounds



Let’s hope she’s not trying for a multiple orgasm today.







If they do a good job, she’ll probably want to buy the monthly pass.  Works out a lot cheaper.
Hi Belinda.  You know, about pain play… I’ve been thinking. 


And then he has to sow the wheat but after that he can take a bit of a rest until harvest time.  Apart from practicing for the competition at the Country Fair, obviously.

Oh dear.  I hope she’s not too disappointed.


Spousework

Very sensible of her to discuss it straight away, so they can sort whatever it is out and get on with their marriage.

I suppose it’s good that she’s finally getting more use out of them. Normally, she puts them on once a month at most and even then she only uses one finger and a thumb of the left glove.

Nothing humiliating there… move on.

Oh, Susan will blame him.  She needn’t worry about that. He should, though.

Mind what?  Why can’t the ladies featured on this blog just say what they mean?  It’s maddening, it really is.


When you’re in a fix

just call for the men in tights!






Well… those are two of her spanking aprons, anyway.  She has more.






You never know when you’ll need to do some sudden washing up in the middle of the night.




Hmm..  Turned out they don’t have a vibrator at the reception desk, but they sent up a couple of their room service guys anyway and they were able to sort the problem out, so that was OK.  Pretty impressive customers service, I’d say.



Now you see that’s just typical of my wife – she sends me out to buy the stuff but doesn’t tell me what she wants it for!  Now I’m going to have to buy both – she hasn’t heard the last of this, you know!

The magic’s still there.


I beg to differ

… but she rarely lets me.


I don’t want to do anything she disapproves of.  It’s too painful.

Always expect the unexpected. Except on this blog, where we ran out of ideas years ago and just keep recycling the same old tropes.

It’s only a small bottle, but they deliver them in packs of 24, annoyingly.

Sure,
darling, of course, I… do you know, I don’t seem to have a pen with
me?  What a shame, I’ll just – what’s that? You have one with you,
darling?  Oh. Oh good.  Right.  So I just sign…?  There.  Right.
Mmm… blackmail fetish and schoolgirl play combined!  Lots of fun.