Category: castration

The whole principle of arguing with women is intrinsically wrong

I’m not claiming the link is really on topic but (a) I like Simon Pegg (b) I like Sally Phillips too – rather a lot (c) she does say that and she topples him too…  After that, it’s less interesting.

Meanwhile, more of this:

She’s right.  You can have a lot more sex in a chastity belt than without one, oddly enough, especially if you’re taken to the right clubs.


Of course Suzie won’t mind at all, but it’s kind of her to ask.  Consent – it’s the foundation of BDSM.

I must say, I find all these lovers’ pet names a bit embarassing, don’t you?  Goodness, if I were Brad I’d be cringing with humiliation right now.

I mean, obviously, the two of you can always use a gag when you play, but I’ve always thought that really spoils the sensation for the woman.  A muffled ‘mmmpph’ can be cute enough, but sometimes what she really needs is a good, sustained session of agonised, terrified screaming.  Yum.

Actually, he is still experiencing a paid-for abduction fantasy.  Only difference being: it’s hers.


 



The imperative mood

“The imperative mood
(often referred to simply as a command) is used to express demands,
instructions or requests. We usually use the second person (plural or
singular) with an unspoken “you” for the subject.” sez Learnenglish. The ‘you’ is indeed unspoken, although sometimes She substitutes other words to refer to Her servitor.

The grammatically correct response to the imperative mood is the submissive mood.
Ludicrous, unrealistic fantasy. Who’d pay $2500 for a male?

What’s that? You’re guessing ‘mandatory gender sensitivity training’?  Well, sure, maybe that too, that too.

  

I don’t see the point of these fancy electronic monitoring systems.  A sturdy 20-foot length of chain has always done the trick in our (actually Her) household.


Here’s a clue: whoever it was lifted the seat. So it won’t be Raoul for a start: he never does,


Femalevolence


Oh, just go with it. You enjoy sexy abbatoir play, she enjoys bacon sandwiches.  You’re very compatible.

Don’t worry. She respects the hard limits imposed by the Geneva Convention.  No hollow-nosed bullets, just a good clean round through the forehead if you get the password wrong.

Poor thing. She obviously misses him terribly.

Yes, I could use a muscle relaxant.  I’m feeling strangely tense about this – which is silly, because there’s really nothing that can go wrong with a tonsils operation.

Love that biker chic.  He’s a switch – prefers to top, but confident enough to play the strong and silent sub on the bottom, you know?  Goes by the name of Master Marcus when he’s domming.  He’s also bisexual, or he soon will be, anyway.


Pink? Pink? Well, what’s wrong with pink?

 Seems like you got a pink kink in your think!


Thank goodness I’m not going to be the only one there in pink, anyway.

I only went for the make-up tips anyway.
Ah – the rolling pin!  Just in that sweet spot between loving domestic discipline and cranial fracture.
Time to come out and play!

Nor are there many rhymes for “penectomy”.  I mean, you can just about work something in with “respect for me” but it’s a bit contrived, don’t you think?  And we don’t like to have excessively contrived notions here on Contemplating the Divine, as you probably know.





Compliance training





He’ll do OK on personal appearance too. He looks like a cringing, terrified little worm, which is exactly how she likes it.

Don’t you just hate it when the dates of your personal appraisals at home and at work coincide?

Don’t worry, the HR people will deal with this sensitive matter appropriately, too. Perhaps you ought to drop round, thank them for resolving the matter so speedily? They’re the unsung heroines of the workplace, in my view.

Chemical castration – some say it’s a valid alternative to physical castration, but I say why not try both?









Don’t worry – I don’t mean actual ‘bears’!  No bestiality in this blog, thank you very much!  No, the caption is suggesting a scene in which this lady is renting out her – husband, boyfriend, stepfather, slave? – to anyone who calls and on this occasion it’s going to be a group of big, hypermasculine male hairy biker types. He is presumptively heterosexual by inclination, so the implication is that she is lying, exhibiting gratuitous cruelty to her insignificant other.  OK?  There – now you can enjoy the caption.  Anyone confused by any of the captions in this blog is recommended to read the template post, available here.


When you see her, say a prayer and kiss your heart goodbye

She’s trouble, in a word get closer to the fire.  Run faster, her laughter burns you up inside.

Mistress Annie, and her bearded keyboards boy, of course.

She’s very good with pain.


If you don’t want to do that, just tell her.  You could try stamping your little foot and having a tantrum even – you never know, it might work out quite well.


Drill, baby, drill.

It’s funny how men go on and on about themselves and their jobs, but women rarely do.  She should try being more assertive.
This is what a femme fatale really looks like.  Believe me – a long cigarette holder and a slinky dress has nothing on a battery of field artillery.




Male In Name Only

Actually, although it’s a very specialised field of architecture, her fees are fairly low, not least because she doesn’t need to pay any assistants.

 
 
 
 

And they say castratrices have no feelings.

 
 
 
 

If he’s bad at sums, he might need a little thinking time in the corner to get the salary offer right.

 
 
 
 

I’d queue up…

 
 
 
 

I’ve always enjoyed a vigorously bisexual sex life: left or right hand, doesn’t matter to me.
 
 
 

 

Every lady shall be exalted

… and every husband and man shall be laid low.

You have to ask if you want the built-in sliding cucky drawer, though.  It costs extra.

Divorce can be painful.

My apologies to all of those submissive men out there who are highly skilled at housework, and don’t just use it as an excuse to flounce around humiliatingly in a little maid’s dress in session.  Sorry – I mean, both those submissive men…
Also quite a lot bigger.  They can still do SPH play, though. She’s kept his original one in a jar.

Biting’s not the worst of it. Bloody Rufus.  No friend of mine.




Gender imbalance

I won’t give away the ending. Oh all right then, I will.  The book falls off and he gets the crap beaten out of him with a perspex cane. OK?


Now I understand why they make the interns wear shorts.

erm… Translation?  Rotation?  Summation?

I’ve heard that if you insult the waiting staff in some restaurants, they’ll spit into your food. But I just can’t bring myself to be other than grovellingly respectful to a waitress.  What’s a sub to do?



One day she’ll meet Mr Perfect and won’t feel the need to enslave and degrade him.  One day.