Category: caption

Divine interventions

There are lots of books you can read about negotiating techniques – they’d probably be helpful in this situation. Sadly, the cage in which you are locked naked doesn’t have any of them.
Don’t worry, there are lots of things she’s been thinking of that can also spice up the relationship. She’s just been holding back, up until now, that’s all.
Inexperienced slaves might object “But what if no one has a use for me all day?”. To which the answer, obviously, is “Then you remain facing the wall.”. You have your orders, there’s nothing unclear so why try to ask annoying questions?
Not that it matters, but, actually, being ignored isn’t one of this client’s fetishes but he’s never been given the opportunity to explain that.
Don’t worry, if self-control fails there’s always external control to fall back on.
I’ve watched Goddess Anya in so many things. Let’s see, there was that series where she was a chess player and another about her as the American girlfriend/wife of some Birmingham gangster and obviously the movie about her eating in a restaurant that blows up after they’ve served her her cheeseburger. Oh and that Jane Austen, of course: the one that didn’t have the divine Annie Hathaway in it. I suppose there may have been one or two other actors in those but I can’t say I paid a lot of attention to the non-Anya scenes, or the plots.

Malicious maidens

There are no problems – only solutions.
Don’t forget to agree a safeword – not ‘auurrgh!’
My wedding night was memorable… I still occasionally wake up in a cold sweat of terror.
They’re always looking for volunteers for their practice sessions, if you want a free show.
She’s a bit fierce on the hockey field… finds it to be a place where she can work off her anger.
You might think that jerking yourself off in front of a mocking naked girl is humiliating, but is it really worse than jerking off in front of a computer, all alone in your room with your trousers around your ankles? Hmm?

PS, I understand there’s some kind of election taking place today, in one or other of Britain’s former colonies. As a non-American, obviously I cannot advise anyone who does have that status on how to vote (although I’m happy to provide tips on how to spell words like ‘neighbour”, to point out that the phrase ‘I could care less’ actually makes no sense at all and to explain the difference between jelly and jam). The important thing is to vote, regardless of which candidate you… you… what am I saying? He’s a deranged idiot, everyone who has ever worked with him says so, how could anybody even be thinking of… oh, just do what you’re going to do. I suppose anyone whose vote might be swayed by what they read on a pornographic blog like this probably shouldn’t be voting at all, on general principles, right? But… I mean to say. Really. Again? Fucking hell.

Ladies in red

Title says it all…

It’s a long staircase… plenty of room for more memories. Let’s hope these ones are happier, as she does seem awfully unlucky, the poor thing.
Waste not want not… you’ll be boiling that up with some dirty socks for your supper, later.
I think it’ll be a lot easier. Leaves you more time to concentrate on the things that matter.
If it makes her more comfortable, where’s the harm in it?
Sometimes it can be hard to get to the right answer, but it’s always easier when there’s a woman to tell you what it is.
In German, the verb is always at the end of a sentence which must make for tense conversations with disciplinarians.

Girls just wanna have power

That’s not strictly true – she actually does care. That’s why she does it.
Let’s hope Mistress is feeling forgiving. It’s not been known to happen often but there’s always hope.
Sounds ideal.
Right now, he’s thinking having to cope with her passive-aggresive behaviour is actually worse than being whipped. He’s wrong, but we’ll let him discover that for himself, shall we?
She didn’t really suspect him of having an affair. She has more confidence in his fidelity to her than that – an unshakeable confidence, actually.

Just look in to those eyes and say the first thing that comes into your head. What’s the worst that could happen?

Sorry the blog’s been a bit Joyless lately, but that’s fixable.

Mulier Sapiens

There’s just never enough time in the day, is there? If only men could multi-task, but alas, that’s not an option.
She’s lucky to have a friend who’ll take the time to listen – you know, they’ve been walking for two hours already? You can’t rush these kinds of conversations.
It’s OK to discuss men’s lib when it’s just women idly chatting round a dinner table; it’s not like males breaking the law by saying the same things.
Maybe when ‘Supreme Mistress Suzannah’ realises what she has done, she could rush back? I’m not saying she would – she wouldn’t want to disappoint her mum.
Hmm? Oh, sorry, was I supposed to add a caption down here?
If nuclear war is about to break out, it looks like Strict Mistress Susan’s House of Correction will be the place that gets the call. Which, y’know, might even work out better?

Magic moments

Evil witches, beautiful princesses and wicked stepmothers – or best of all, ladies who are all three of those things.

Let’s hope she doesn’t forget you’re there.
So easy to end up with a home full of clutter – have the courage to just throw it all out, the experts say.
You’re not going to live happily or ever after (though it might seem like forever).
She’s perfectly prepared to marry him, of course, and have him installed next to her bedroom. Just nothing unhygienic.
I don’t see why she can’t just pop round to her local dodo butcher and see if they can let her have some. This is Contemplating the Divine, after all, none of it is tethered to tedious reality.
People sometimes get confused when the devils are dressed as angels, but in fact there’s no difference between the two.

Contemptresses

It’s a very genuine relationship the two of you have; nothing faked here.
Perhaps you could reassure her by explaining it’s your first time being stomped to death, too.
Sounds like she’s doing all the work in this relationship; I hope you are ordered to express your gratitude some time.
If all else fails there’s a surgical solution but that’s only recommended in extreme cases or if a woman requests it.
She’s perfect so she’s determined that your servitude to her should be, too.
I’m sure they’ll make room for her; they’re nice like that.

Unrelated, there is a random bit of vanilla vaguely referencing femdom here. https://www.smbc-comics.com/comic/2007-07-18 I read the caption and thought… yeah, but what was the one thing?

Just a quick word, darling

She believes actions speak louder than words anyway. Speak softly and carry a heavy paddle and all that.

She’s a very fair woman – indeed, perfect in every way and never wrong. Just ask your father-in-law. I think you’re in luck too, in that your lovely wife takes after her.
Everyone talks about life-long learning these days but few people actually get to live that dream.
She operates a system of rewards and penalties, where the reward is usually her deciding not to make a penalty quite as harsh as it might have been.

Goddess Bojana, I believe, who was once a Balkan Brat and is now… well, a Goddess. Still beautiful, aloof and severely gothic.

Just think what she’s doing for the country’s productivity statistics!
I’m not looking to hide anything, it’s just that this choke-chain is uncomfortable. If I were permitted to talk, I’d tell her.
Chin up indeed. Arse, too.

The brutal reality

As the little disclaimer to the left there states, this blog makes no claim whatsoever to realism. Over the years, this has served me quite well as a catch-all excuse, when certain commenters – anonymous or otherwise – point out small inconsistencies, minor plot holes or blatant and wildly implausible attempts to ignore the physical laws of the Universe in one caption or another.

But just for a change (but not for the first time, or the second or even the third), we’re going to be focused on reality in today’s post: the truth about femdom. How it really is. Because that’s reality. Because. That. Happens.

Don’t worry, we’ll be rejoining the unreality-based community in the next post, on Tuesday.

One of my regular dommes agreed instantly, when I asked her for a gentle, slow-paced four-hour boot-worship session, but things got a little difficult when I turned up and she realised I’d hoped she’d be wearing the boots during the whole time.
As long as there’s something soft nearby to break her fall if she topples over, maybe?
Anyway, the bowl doesn’t have to go through the bars, does it, he can just stick his head out and… hmmm… Oh well. Ella can be Kross with me whenever she likes and it’s all good.
Cruella especially has perfected the photographic genre of ‘domme standing in stiletto heels on a hard surface surrounded by muddy countryside – with no clue how she got there or how she’s going to get away.’ It’s a minority interest, obviously.
More a comment on this blog’s approach to images of lesbian joy than the general reality.
Too right. I was watching Penance and Repentance for the Naughty Nympho Nuns yesterday evening and they got the words of the catechism completely wrong -spoiled the whole thing for me.