Category: chains

A long time in politics

A week is a long time in politics, they say, which makes it a lot like predicament bondage.

I should apologise for any medical problems induced by the high prevalance of heart-stopping beauty in this post. But I won’t, because anyone collapsing in front of his screen, trousers around his ankles, probably deserved it, nasty little pervert.

These days with such a fragmented media landscape it’s very hard to determine what’s true and what isn’t. Quick pro-tip: if it’s on this blog, it probably isn’t. So don’t worry about that female supremacist conspiracy, OK? Just a femdomination sex fantasy thing, nothing to see.
There were several defining moments of her campaign, many of which went viral and some of which became among the highest-ever viewed clips on femdom porn sites, oddly enough. Still, all publicity is good publicity, right? It’s like spanking, in that respect.
Yada yada slavery, yada yada shock collars. That’s the tired old politics… time to move on, surely? And if those men’s rights activists can’t understand that for themselves maybe they just need a little help to see the bigger picture? Shouldn’t the government step in – or stride, in high-heeled boots – to provide that? Hey – I’m just asking questions here.
The First Gentleman should be a role model for all boys, so it’s important to check his behaviour whenever he falls short of that high standard – and her higher ones. So, really, it’s her duty. The interns… OK, that’s just a stress relief thing.
Yay! That’s a keeper. So’s she.
She won’t say branding’s painless because it isn’t. See how refreshing it is when political leaders don’t, like, lie all the time?

And he received them with a strange delight

Just like his wife but how she was before the tears

It took me a long time looking at this not to see her as having one incredibly long right leg and a weirdly mis-shapen left. But maybe that’s just me.
My SO always says if I behave like a child, she’ll treat me as a child. Which to be honest is a lot easier than how I’m treated when she decides I’ve behaved like a lawbreaking dissident in a totalitarian state.
Oh, I do hope she does.
He’s actually a sweet guy… he just gets a bit tense at times, that’s all, especially if he’s not getting enough sex. You’ll adapt.

Lady Darla, there, one of many reasons to visit Warsaw – and stay there indefinitely.

He’s quite the expert on school canings, Headmaster Bob, so if they’re a bit slapdash at first, I hope he’ll advise them on technique.
Even if they knew, few if any would care.

Helplessly devoted

She might at some point make you consent to what’s going on, just to ease her conscience.
If after you’ve discussed them there are still things the two of you disagree on, well, you can always just discuss them again, can’t you?
Could be the start of something beautiful. A turning point, so to speak.
I once cancelled a session with a domme at short notice but she ignored me and went ahead anyway. Quite right too.
Sometimes guys think going 24/7 means they can’t ask for things any more, and that’s just such a misunderstanding. I’m always asking my SO for stuff – food or water, mostly – and usually she doesn’t mind at all.
Sometimes, the ferals watch her being oiled up by one of her domesticated males and just walk into the cages of their own accord.

Work harder, not smarter

That was my SO’s advice to me, soon after we married. As with all her advice, following it has made my life a lot easier.

And if at first she doesn’t succeed, no harm in trying again.

 

 

Make sure you empty the bath with buckets and carry the soapy water back down to a proper drain when you’re done, OK?  It’s more environmentally friendly.  Or just remind her to make sure you do it – that’s probably going to be more effective, actually.

 

Awkward.


Thank goodness someone’s there to keep up standards.



 

Don’t worry – she’ll be keeping an eye on the situation, via the livestream. She’ll step in if she decides it’s all too much.


Severely

I suppose it’s polite to ask, but really she should just make herself at home.


 

He looks pretty trustworthy to me.  You’ll be fine.  Just think about something else for 20 minutes.

  

 
 

No, she’s not particular.  Well…she is, obviously.  Just not about that sort of thing.

 

See?  There’s always a solution if you just talk it out.  It’s like the time I finally told my SO I was finding our ‘lifestyle’ a bit difficult and in just a few minutes ‘talking it through’ we hit on the solution of shutting the fuck up and never complaining to her again.  So simple, in retrospect and it’s avoided so many problems since.

 

 

She’s definitely going to go down there and check he’s OK, though.  There’s just something she needs to do first, that’s all.

 

 

Praise where it’s due

Actually, in context that word made perfect sense.  Just like the words “worm”, “pervert” and “weirdo” in the various contexts she used them in your last performance review.




Good practice for tomorrow.  Sven’s a bit larger – and I imagine his brothers are similar.



Lucy doesn’t mind.  She’s nice like that.

Easier just to run the sessions in parallel, you might think.  And if anyone paid the slightest attention to what you thought, maybe you’d be right, but they don’t so you’re not.


 

 

 

 

Then later on, you can clean up the sticky messes upstairs too.  Probably won’t taste as nice, so make the most of this bit.

 

 

 

Bippity-bop

Especially for all those readers who’ve been clamouring for captions of femdom in realistic, domestic settings – another post featuring fairytales and magic.  What can I say… if you’re not into being treated with contempt, don’t read the blog, yeah?


Story of my life… I start chatting to a pretty young lady and it’s going well, then up comes some handsome stud and I just get crushed underfoot and my sticky, bloody remains fed to the pigeons.  Happens. Every. Single. Time.



It’s lucky the castle has facilities to contain a wild beast securely.  In fact, I’ve heard it has capacity for several, so you’ll be perfectly safe.




She’s not good at small-talk, but I’m sure that when she meets the Prince that won’t be an obstacle to their romance blossoming.




Occasionally you’ll spend an hour or so being only eight inches long – tall, I mean.  But you need to practice holding your breath before she’ll try that.


Don’t worry, she’ll look after you.







All is vanity, nothing is fair

As no doubt the quote from a nineteenth century novel in the title will have forewarned you, Contemplating the Divine once again takes a step back to the gentler, but no less unkind, femdom of regency days*.  It was one of the first themes ever to feature on the blog, and remains to this day one of the most thoroughly unpopular, with few if any readers ever having a good word to say about it.  But then if I got off on compliments, I wouldn’t be a humiliation freak, now, would I?

Either that, or I’m too stupid to take a hint.  Whatever… here come the hot chicks in empire-line dresses yet again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

* and before anyone rushes to comment that at least some of these scenes are clearly from the early Victorian period, I should point out that I am – of course – using ‘Regency’ to indicate a general focus on period drama and costumes, rather than strictly confining the topics to the years between 1811 and 1820.  OK?  Goodness, femdom porn sites like Bitches with Whips or StraponSquad don’t pay so much attention to these historical details, I’m sure, and I don’t suppose they get that kind of abuse.


Kind hearts and martinets

I shot an arrow in the air; she fell to earth in Berkely Square.  Warning: safe for work and unrelated.



I’ll confess to anything because I’m guilty guilty guilty!



As long as there’s wi-fi.
Don’t be so suspicious.
“Isn’t that silly” is a phrase I used to hear a lot on dates, oddly enough. 
It’s good to feel useful, now there’s nothing to do but hang around the house all day. I’m worried we might run out of toilet paper, though.  Goodness knows what we’d do, then.


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