cruelty – Contemplating the divine

You made the rules and you could not see

…y ou made a life out of hurting me.

Males always have disgusting things in mind. It’s not their fault (but that’s no reason to let them off a beating for it) – they *are* disgusting.

Contrary to the stereotype about women’s sexual preferences, findommes tend to want to skip the foreplay of little teasing gifts and just get straight into deep penetration of their partners’ bank accounts.

She’s going to be hanging around in lingerie a lot from now on. It’s just her making sure, to show how she feels about you.

I was about to ask whether there’s anything worse than having a lovely pair of shoes when your chain’s *just* too short for your lips to reach them… but there are worse things, obviously. Many, many worse things – as my SO has been kind enough to teach me, over the years.

This could explain some of the apparently random and heartless decisions global companies have taken in recent years, actually. Maybe I’ll write something for the Harvard Business Review.

Must be nice for Kate and her boy, being ‘out’. I’ve had to read up about epilepsy, because that’s our cover story if anyone ever sees me writhing around on the floor gasping incoherently after saying the wrong thing to my SO (or looking like I might be about to). Still, I suppose that’s a small price to pay for living the fantasy in reality.

Under her care and control

Because she’s very caring and very controlling.

‘Rules’ mind you, not ‘contract’. Your agreement was not required then, nor is it now.

Quite a lot at those ladies’ hourly rates, I hope.

I’ll mention again, in gratitude and encouragement, that Cruella’s back catalogue of magazines and photos is finally being made available for download. You can even pay by PayPal. Go on…

I might like it if it were consistently cooked properly but, for some reason, half of the time the person serving me just pushes a bowl of raw octopus into my face. I can’t imagine why this place gets such rave reviews. Still, you go for the experience, really, don’t you?

Obviously, it’s a bit of a gamble giving your life and freedom up to some unknown starlet. Sure, you might end up with a diamond-encrusted collar, chained up in the playroom of a Beverley Hills mansion… But most budding actresses don’t make it and you’re far more likely to end your days working two paid jobs and doing domestic slavery for an abusive, bitter alcoholic, her looks ruined by bad plastic surgery, living with her violent boyfriend in a trailer park somewhere. Which – y’know – isn’t necessarily a *bad* thing, but you should know what you’re getting into, that’s all.

I might venture a prediction… well: more of a guess, really.

I wonder what it would take to convince him to go vegetarian?

The astonishingly glamorous, beautiful and witty Mistress Eleise de Lacy, a truly wonderful domme, now sadly retired. This tweet from Sardax contains lovely pictures I’d never seen before, showing her playful smile (do tigresses smile? If so, it must look something like that).

Well, you don’t sound very grateful

Recent quote from a lovely domme, disappointed by my bad manners. Needless to say, she helped me to express my gratitude more profusely.

Pictures are neither more nor less related than usual.

I expect she has quite firm views – vigorously expressed – on gratitude, too.

Of course she’s not actually going to throw the gift set away – I mean, she has it now, so she might as well keep it. But its the principle of the thing. Ironically enough, that particular cosmetics firm practises cruelty-free testing. And she knows that. But she holds to her principles very strongly.

What a shame she doesn’t let you have enough money to afford her services. Oh well, there’s always sitting alone in the dark and howling inwardly, right?

There’s a guy who hangs around the coffee shop just waiting to see that domme approaching the door, so he can leap ahead of her in the queue and ‘pay her coffee on’. Sadly, she doesn’t know that because she’s never had to pay for a coffee there and thinks its free… so she just occasionally notices with irritation the guy who always barges ahead of her in the queue. But life was never meant to be fair.

As a last service, try to notice which way your beloved wife bet and then breathe faster or slower, depending, to help her win. That would be a loving gesture and it’s not as if you’ll have many more opportunities to show how much you care for her.

I wonder what it does mean? Madame Šárka seems to know… I expect she’ll be able to help him understand his mistake – and the seriousness thereof.

As a bit of found (and probably unintended) femdom, this is rather lovely, by the way. I wonder if it works with anything other than golf balls?

Grimm tales

More fairy-themed fantasy folly.

A fairy grants you wishes three / So never wish to buggered be / For if you do ’twill come to pass / And you must take it up the arse.

Actually, the female sensibility that men have for centuries maligned as ‘witchcraft’ is really just about being more in touch with nature, more attuned to the rhythms of the natural world. Men find that hard to understand, but a few years spent living as a toad can help.

She could have just learnt to do ventriloquism but this seemed a lot easier.

You could wish to taste particularly yummy? That would make her happy. You want to make her happy, don’t you?

Again, it’s a lot easier this way. I mean, have you ever *tried* to assemble any of the human furniture IKEA sells? Nightmare.

Don’t worry, she’ll probably get bored after a billion years or two.

Emotional stupidity

In case you’re wondering why I am posting on a Thursday instead of the usual Friday, the answer is ‘rank incompetence – the idiot’s not even able to read a calendar properly, for goodness’ sake!’.

Nice clean shoes – good job! Now, let’s have that chat.

Thank goodness they reminded him – how embarassing it would have been to have had to admit he’d forgotten the anniversay again.

Surprisingly unsurprisingly “People for the Ethical Treatment of Paypigs” just isn’t a thing.

She seems nice. My SO taught me the right way to do laundry by just whipping me without explanation every time it wasn’t right. We got there, but it was a lot of work for her, poor thing.

Trying not to pose

… for the cameras and the girls (trigger warning: no femdom, big hair, old-fashioned music from when Servitor was young, if such a thing can be imagined).

Always a tricky situation, but she knew exactly how to handle it to prevent embarassment. Women are better at reading social situations like that. Now… what kind of wine goes with spunk?

She’s considering a suggestion from some productivity consultants that could eliminate that particular problem. The jerking-off, I mean, not the periods. That would be weird.

She doesn’t have any questions for you, either. It’s that kind of relationship, where you take the other person just as they are. She’s violent and sadistic and you’re… well: restrained and vulnerable. What’s to discuss?

Like a threesome! Five, if you count the socks.

Femaleficient

Don’t worry, she doesn’t object to having your own taste in music, she just won’t allow you to play any of it.

Obviously. Fortunately they have an excellent pain management programme.

Seems a little unfair, as he was paying Supreme Mistress Katharine three times the usual rate already. The lady doing the talking only does vanilla tricks, not femdom, just in case you were thinking of visiting. Says she just doesn’t have the femdom skills, which on the face of it appears to me not to be true, but who am I to argue either with her assertions or her maths?

Don’t let on you’ve never actually done this before. This could be the beginning of a beautiful holiday friendship – or perhaps a rather disgusting but highly practical one, anyway.

To err is male

… to chastise, divine.

Well… at least until it stops stretching, obviously. Otherwise why go to all that trouble?

She’s smiling but she’s crying inside. Don’t make this harder for her.

Thank goodness (and her) for that.

My SO generally prefers me to be silent – except when I’m strapped down onto the whipping bench, when she usually removes my gag. It’s her opportunity to hear how how I’m feeling.

Lots of older men seek to relive their youth, with attractive young women. Looks like Timmy has hit the jackpot.

Implacable taste

Let’s hope this little misunderstanding is sorted out quickly. Fortunately, it looks like she’s on the case.

She’ll rearrange you till you’re sane. Or not.

Why are consequences never nice consequences? I once asked my SO that, but she just laughed and hit me in the face.

He’s actually called Trent but thank goodness he’s around, anyway – one less thing to worry about on the big day.

Just a fantasy, obviously. She is far too professional for any such an on-screen slip-up in real life. The guy on the right seems like rather a forward young man, don’t you think?

Dressed to oppress

Pookie’s thoughts are mostly elsewhere, to be honest. Which is just as well, as her questions are rhetorical.

You could try telling her that even Leicester is a tropical paradise when lit up by her divine radiance…?

The first time’s very special, isn’t it?

He had an imaginary friend as a kid. She used to beat the crap out of him too – maybe that’s where he gets it from.

He has some pretty intense CP fantasies… I hope they’ve got the stomach and the stamina for it.

Just realised I actually did two captions of this lovely image of the lovely lady (Maya Sinn!) and Pookie (most probably someone with a name unlike ‘Pookie’, but you never know) so you might as well have both.