Category: caption

Night terrors

 

They don’t.  I can vouch for that personally (but you cannot check for yourself, alas, because the lovely Lady Sophia Black appears to have retired).

Yes, that would be instructive.  Plus, they’ll need someone to clean up all the mess when they’ve finished with him.


 

 

Thank goodness for the wise motherly advice. There’s a reason her parents stayed together all their lives, you know.

 

 

 

She’s particularly good at the “laughing and joking to show it’s all consensual” bit at the start.  She practices for hours to make it sound convincing.  And she has very high standards, so make sure you learn your lines perfectly.

 This is the sweet and playful Madame Sarka, who appears not to be retired, so any readers looking for a gentle introduction to the world of female-led roleplay might want to try looking her up.  Be polite.  Very polite.

 

 

Easier said than done, alas, so I’m just going to keep masturbating to pictures of sexy actresses and singers, if that’s OK, Billie.


Agonising and ecstasising

Silly headline, sweet little song,* content is essentially unrelated.

 

 

It only gets sadder from here on in, Ma’am.  You don’t mind if I call you Ma’am, I hope?  Ma’am.

 

 

 

 

She can wait.  Hours, days, weeks.  Whatever it takes.  And you’re not going anywhere, obviously.

 

 

 

Maybe I’m just trying to demonstrate that I’m not one of those guys who just thinks about his penis the whole time, you know?

 

 

 

 

It’s cheaper than domme session rates, but only slightly – and much more intense.

 

 

 

 

Don’t ask her about the bad experience.  She’s been able to move on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* But not as sweet as the one from Butterflies.

Indignity


Ah… furniture privileges.  I remember the first time my SO told me I wasn’t allowed on the furniture any more and I cheekily asked if that included the whipping bench. How we laughed… or we would have done if I’d dared say it out loud.




Elbow-length latex gloves should come with a safety warning, in my view.  And latex gloves that cover the full length of the arm are just unsafe, no matter what the ‘experts’ might tell us about the length of the lower intestine.




See all the little gold rings on their toes?  Aren’t they pretty?  They’ve got lots more gold rings, for you to wear, so maybe you’ll look just as pretty too.  But they’re not going on your toes, obviously.


If it’ll help, the soaking wet towel she is planning to ram down your throat will taste quite soapy.





You might think that spousal abuse is neither funny nor sexy.  My wife disagrees, though: she loves it, so who am I to argue?


Uncivil partnerships

 

 

It’s a mere technicality.

 

 


 

A lot of men who are initially reluctant to wear shock collars end up thanking their wives for it, I understand, so there’s really no reason not to give it a go.

 

 

 

There’s nothing worse than calling your domme by the wrong name, is there?  Well… Obviously, there is something worse, which is what happens next when you do – but I’m sure you know what I mean.


More and more women carry tasers to ward off unwanted sexual advances.  Even a few years back, when I was dating, I’d estimate maybe 40% of them did.





 

Thank goodness.  Finally a chance to put my side of the story!


Sexually irresponsible

 I used to be sexually irresponsible, but someone has kindly taken responsibility now, so that’s all right.



Male chess players need to learn that being beaten at the game by a female player isn’t humiliating.  Believe me, there are much more humiliating ways of being beaten by a female, if you only seek them out.




I’ve never understood why dominant ladies so often like to promise me more to cry about.  I don’t find it the least bit reassuring.




So much to look forward to.



She shouldn’t let him exploit her like that.




She seems quite forceful. It’s probably just as well for Gerald that he’s only marrying one of her.*


*NB, although this blog generally does not seek to provide advice on safe, sane and consensual BDSM, readers might want to consider the advisability of a romantic relationship with any woman who refers to them as ‘human male’.

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.

Hers to keep

 

 

And of course there’s no rule that says you can’t use any twice.  Or even more often than that.


 

 

 

I expect Sasha will get the hang of it.  One excuse for a beating’s almost as good as another; it’s silly to get hung up on narrative consistency.  I never do – as readers of my stories will attest.

 

 

 

He’s probably thinking he’s not really up to moving like greased lightening, at his age.  But that’s the thing about femdom – you can always surprise yourself.

 

 

 

Subbie hear, subbie do.



Many submissive men get quite hung up on how wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, co-workers and so on will react to their fetish.  But the truth is, many of them just don’t care at all and haven’t the least interest in us.   I find it quite humiliating…. yum.

 

Talking about pain

 Not enough couples do that.

 

 

As you can see, she takes quite an old-fashioned approach to discipline.  Most wives these days just use the app.



 

 

She can put it with all the other things waiting for him in their honeymoon suite.



I hope she learns an important lesson about bullying.  Or a few new techniques, anyway.





How very tiresome.




Ironically enough, although they put on a remarkable burst of speed, when they reached Capri there’d been an unseasonable spring storm and the blossom was in tatters.  She took it in good part, though: silly to get upset over something like that.  There’s always next year.




And now for something largely similar

Right… ten more years then.  The terrible teens begin here.  How terrible can they be?  Let’s find out, shall we?

 

 

He should be thankful.  Not for anything in  particular – just generally, all the time.

 

 

Regrettably, he won’t be perfect for long.  She breaks things.

 

 

 

It is a good one.  Here’s another: what do you do if you see a blonde undressing, through an open window?  Eight years hard labour!  Do you get it?  Maybe one day you will.

 

 

Look at the lovely lady on the right, there.  Rightly proud of her work.

 

 

 

‘Something plausibly similar to male genitalia’ is the best some of us can hope for.




Looks like all those caning fantasies are going to come true.




Bad Pookie.  Just imagine being close to thinking about disobeying her like that!  On second thoughts, don’t imagine it… she wouldn’t approve.



If there was anything she could do to make you feel better, she’d do it – you know that, right?



Anyway, maybe some of the other patrons would like to skip the queue too.


 

Ooh – the tips of her shoes look just like the inside of my chastity belt!  Maybe we could strike up a conversation, now I know we’ve something in common.




And, of course:




Decadence: time for birthday spankings

Ten years today.  Good grief. 

Here are some of my favourite ever captioned images.  In general, when there’s one I am really pleased with, it is because the words and photo go together perfectly.  Either because the lady’s expression seems just right – in that, once you’ve read the caption you can imagine she’s saying that, or even be unable to imagine she could be saying anything else – or just because the caption picks up some quirk in the scene.

Other people might like other ones.  Or stories.  But I adore each and every one of the ones below, so I won’t comment further.























































And, of course….

 

… and…

…and finally, what my Tumblr stats suggest is the most popular captioned image I have ever done.  Which is quite heartening, as it’s not some fetish scene with latex-clad blondes (delightful though those are), but simply this:

 

 

 

So here’s to the next ten years.  Starting tomorrow with a bonus post of new stuff, to make up for all this recycled trash we’ve had over the last few days.