Category: caption

Cries of pain are music for her banquet

A quote, or nearly so, from George Eliot, who shamefully had to pretend to be a man to get published.  What an embarassment that must be, for a woman.  Do you suppose she had to make spelling mistakes, miss deadlines and generally dumb down in correspondence with her publisher, just to appear authetically male?

Still, the quotation is rather a lovely image, isn’t it?  Here are some more.

Her impotence treatment works every time – it’s a remarkable medical breakthrough, actually.
She seems nice. What a shame you’re nothing special.  Better luck in Somalia.

She’s such a sweet person, wouldn’t hurt a fly in real life.  Still: she’ll flog him bloody and then piss on the wounds, because that’s the kind of professional she is. Then go and have dinner with Dave and maybe a cuddle before bed.




Castration manga is actually a great way to interest girls in comic books, because it’s using the medium to speak to issues that concern them as women, you know?  Also: it’s just a lot of fun, obviously.

He was quite fat when they started training him.  Still some way off the target weight of zero that they are aiming for, but he’ll get there.  In fact, he’s going to lose a whole bunch of weight all in one go next Thursday: they just haven’t told him yet.




Fair maidens, faint hearts




I find it’s always easier to tell the truth. The aftermath is sometimes extremely difficult.

I have my pride.  At least, I did. Hang on…it’s got to be here somewhere.

By a curious coincidence, I got the cattle prod for ‘last night’ the very second day of my marriage.
I get quite excited about this sort of thing.
I heard Jason was having an operation so I sent flowers and my best wishes for a full recovery.  Well, you never know, he might.









An orderly marriage





Without question.



Good. Can’t wait for my consciousness to be raised.
10 is the new 8?  You know, just the other week my SO was caning me and I thought we’d finished but she announced that 12 was the new 6!  I don’t know… when I learnt maths in school it all seemed a lot simpler than that. You just held your hand out and counted until she was finished.


Actually, the vicar turned up on time and I have to say: he was quite cross to see what was happening on top of his altar!  So that was a bit embarassing, but the rest of the wedding day passed off smoothly.  The night didn’t go so well, unfortunately, but thank goodness Sven was there too or I think things would really have been difficult.









If I manage to find a copy of the video, I’ll share it with you. I’ve never actually posted a funny cat video – must be the only blog on the Internet not to have done so. 


Further Downton

More of these.  


I should apologise to male readers in advance, many of whom may find some of the material here not to their taste: several of the captions contain a lot of words, some of them quite long and obscure, such as ‘vicarious’, ‘distraught’ and ‘conscientious’.  If it’s too difficult for you, try asking a woman (if you know any) what the words mean, or you can just masturbate to the pictures of the pretty ladies looking stern, all right?












Heaven-sent

… and very nice too*




All the ways I could be a better husband?  Wow.  I think I’m going to need two days locked in the stocks, at least.



What a lot of fuss, about a routine operation.  You’d think I was the first person whose tonsils she’d removed.  I… hang on… didn’t I have my tonsils out when I was a teenager? 
Oh, don’t worry: I’ll keep looking. I might cry a little, if that’s OK.

She insists on her tea being just the way she likes it. Also the ironing, bed corners, washing up, bookshelves, underwear drawer, bath, breakfast, ornaments, cushions, carpets, gin & tonic, shoes, lawn, floor tiles, nail polish, ….
The splendidly-named Miss Hunter, on whose wall I would love to end up as a trophy.







Many dommes find the things we submissives do disgusting.  That’s why they so enjoy hitting us.





* but if anyone happens to be able to locate the scene in the British sitcom Game On (rather a lovely ‘situation’: sad male failures share flat with goddess) in which Samantha Janus rushes around putting her make-up on to this song, I’d be most grateful.

Pure bliss and divine serenity

Perhaps she ought to explore ways to teach him what her orgasm sounds like.  There must be opportunities, for an independently-minded lady such as her. .
Actually, most of the women I have ever paid to mistreat me are very kind to animals.  Maybe it’s a balance thing.
Thank badness for that.

Hmm… let’s think.  I’m not staying at a Travellodge, OK?  I do have some standards.

I read about this fake findomme who was defrauding her clients. Apparently she was taking their money and then not ignoring them at all.  It’s sad that kind of thing happens, as it gives the whole industry a bad name.


Fantastic terrors never felt before




She shall press, ah, nevermore!





Worst fudge ever?  Of course, I’d want to stay out of Devon.


I think it’s sad, to see magnificent beasts penned up in dark underground enclosures, like that.  They should be free to roam the snow-covered fields.
 Mistress Courtney and, erm… another goddess and two maggots, there.

It’s a good point, actually: I do like paella.  So, I suppose I have to be whipped.  Damn – I hate it when she uses logic on me!
There are other extras.  Not as many as there were, but there’s an endless supply waiting patiently outside the studio door.



Subjectivity

Noun: the state of being a subject.  That used to be me but now I’m more objective.


No great loss, right?
Somehow it still feels like I’m on the leash, even when I’m not.  Strange, that.
I rolled a six this month!  But apparently “rules are made to be broken”!  Not her usual attitude to rules, I have to say… but that’s women for you.  Bless ’em.
She’s already being the best wife she can. That’s why you’re wearing the shock collar.








My brain hurts.  Sorry: I think I’m just too male today to understand this one. Something about a hash?  Is she talking about breakfast?

Malevolent society

Possibly rather alarming, but don’t worry: she’s a kind and loving person. She has cats, for example.  Cat people are always OK, right?  She has several cats and she loves them dearly.
Fortunately, scurrying is one of the things I do best.



It’s odd, because when I bring up how little I like the idea of giving blow-jobs, she says I shouldn’t rule something out without trying it!  I’m almost tempted to agree with the sexists that women can’t do logic.  But I won’t argue about it.  It’s just very frustrating, though, you know?
Looks like you owe your liberty to her.  I hope you’re grateful.








Poor Diana. Oh well, back to lesbianism I suppose.

There is no fire

Music only a little related. But don’t you just love the way Mistress Lennox’s voice sort of… swoops in at the start? I do. And I tried to find a version with a video, and I found this and she looks lovely, but someone’s ringing a bell, playing an electric organ and generally messing up that opening.


Sigh.  First world problems…

More things follow:

I had this wonderful puppy play session in the park, the other day.  She did that thing of making me balance a twig on my nose in sitting position?  And then she backed slowly away saying ‘stay… stayyyy’.  It’s actually quite hard to stay still for long like that, so after only seven hours, I sneezed and the twig fell off. If I ever see her again, I’ll have to tell her and be punished. Exciting thought!

 

Oh, just a plain vanilla ball-crusher, then? OK, sorry.  Just go ahead.



I still remember the first time she called me a ‘lazy little bastard’…
It’s actually not quite true to say she doesn’t care. She enjoys making you cry. But she’s trying to spare your feelings, the dear thing.





Yup. All about the rules.