Blonde obedience

But I haven’t even asked yet!

 

Retractable steel blades?  Where’s the fun in that? I prefer her method.



 

Not really.  Sure: it would have been a turn-on.  But would that have made the beatings any easier to take?

 

 

 

It’s all in the wrist.

 

 

To be honest, I didn’t feel like I was running out of things to cry about before.  But I suppose she’s only trying to help.

 

 

Sweetly unreasonable

How very convenient.



 

 

‘Not tonight, I’ve got a headache’?  No?

 

 

 

Living a truly female-led life can involve lots of difficult choices, so it’s good there’s someone else there to make them.



Look at what?  Whatever is she talking about? Do you know?  I have no idea, none at all.

 

 

Pitiful, most likely.  I usually am.


 


Here’s a random and rather lovely thing, by the way.  Who needs boys, anyway?

#anne hathaway from these empty halls held our disease.


Sing when she’s winning

 

Scurry scurry scurry!

 

 


Much like his response to the question the priest will be asking him a little later.



 

I’ve occasionally asked my SO whether she’d consider putting me on obedience pills but weirdly she says she prefers an occasional bit of disobedience. Which is odd, because she always seems so cross about it… women, eh?

 

 

 

Even if he sued her and won, there’d be the question of damages and I think any competent (i.e. female) lawyer would advise that those would be derisory and purely token, at best.

It’s all part of growing up. 


 


Ghastly perversions

 

She finds she meets interesting people when she walks you in the park.  And tedious but enslaveable ones too.


 

 

She’s a very spiritual person, as you can tell.

I don’t know what the bad things were in my brain that the doctor removed but there must have been a lot of them, because it’s very empty now.  Thank goodness I have a loving wife to remember things for me.

 

The taste of ‘shut the fuck up’ will always be associated for me with the sharp, painful feeling of ‘because I say so’.

 

 

Or he won’t.  Whatever.


Nothing to fear but fear itself

An odd quote.  If I feared fear, I wouldn’t pay to endure it, now, would I?  Anyway, anyone who really thinks there’s nothing to fear but fear itself hasn’t had a tawsing session with Miss Hunter, or been hand-smothered by Mistress Eleise de Lacey, to name just two among many ladies who can strike fear into me and have done so most delightfuly.


Don’t worry – she’s a very accomplished cook and will have a wide range of things for you to kneel on over time.  Pasta, pulses, various grains… And when you’re done kneeling on them, she can boil them up to mush, add a few flavourings and voila – your feeding bowl will be full for a week.




Ooh – what a lovely game!  I just want to rain a flurry of kisses down on her shoe in a never-ending display of adoration… and as that’s what she wants too, that’s what will happen.




I don’t specifically remember agreeing that.  If anything, I try not to think too much about the evening when we ‘discussed’ it, as it brings me out into a cold sweat.  But I’m sure she’s right, she usually is.  Always, come to think of it.




Time of the month, eh?  Always a bit difficult for the man of the house, especially if he’s a due a whipping anyway.  As I always seem to be, during her periods, for some weird reason.




The worst of is when they’re all sweaty and they’re grinding and pumping away and one of them looks up to discover she got bored and is watching TV.  Still: best not to stop. You know how she is about these things.


 



She’s the latest and the greatest of them all

Dommes and cats… am I right?  Ever noticed that?  Dommes and cats…





And a lot harder

The simply wonderful Amy Hunter.  I once had the remarkable pleasure and the still more remarkable pain (mainly the tawse on the hands – ow!) of visiting her.



I have a purpose to my existence.  My SO has promised some day to tell me what it is.



Arachnophobia play is quite culturally specific.  In the UK it’s just a matter of harmless terror, but in Australia I’ve heard it ‘s considered quite edgy.




It wasn’t actually feeling that nervous – it’s just got one of those faces, you know? But it’s beginning to get a bit jittery right now.

Unoriginal sins





Don’t worry: you’ll feel her pain






It probably wouldn’t say anything very interesting, to be honest.  Mostly whiny pleading.  They’re not missing anything.


Like many male teachers in girls’ secondary schools, he often finds himself being the teacher who has to deal with the bullies.
I understand that if you actually open them up, by breaking the flesh from whipping too hard for example, you can void the warranty.  But it doesn’t sound like she’s done that, so it’s probably OK.









She’s not a pro-domme, anyway, because to the eternal howls of anguish from love-sick slaves, I believe Lady Sophia Black has retired.

Furious feminine


It’s not that ironic.  He strongly disapproved of it while it was being done to him, too – more so than ever, if anything.










“We” did, although only only one of us did most of the actual talking, as I recall it.








You might want to refer her to your own ‘FAM’ – that’s ‘Frantic Appeals for Mercy’


The simply divine Mistress Heather.  I for one would love to kiss the air above that foot tattoo, and even closer if allowed.




Thank goodness she realised you needed to be locked in chastity too.  How awful it would be to be locked in a prison cell for months without any ability to suffer the erotic frisson of enforced chastity at the same time.








She also has a carving knife.


Society for the Promotion of Cruelty



Possibly insufficient levels of whatever hormone it is induces feelings of terror, too.









I once paid for this stunningly beautiful escort to go with me to a party. She was supposed to laugh at my jokes but I think her agency must have messed things up because in the event, she laughed at everything except my jokes.  Still, it was lovely being with her, at least until she got off with my best friend and abandoned me.  Quite expensive, though.
Looks cosy.




It’s the sound of one hand clapping.
 This the lovely Amy Hunter, who once left me battered, bruised and happy.  She has startlingly blue eyes and a startlingly painful tawsing technique too.

It’s funny how dommes constantly insist on being thanked for stuff like this.  Do you think maybe they have self-esteem issues?


Compelling ideas


Can’t hurt to try.




Raises the question: can you be ‘just good friends’ and have a relationship based on slavery and humiliation?

I now have eleven approved begging positions.  Few of them seem to work, I have to admit.

‘At a stretch’… oh ha bloody ha.

This one?  This one?  I do have a name, you know. Or I certainly used to, anyway.