Category: feelings of utter inadequacy

Managing partners

It was kind of her to warn you. Sadly, she’s out of kindness now.
Many people get quite nervous, going on live TV for the first time. But ‘Goddess’ here doesn’t get nervous and while ‘submissive worm’ certainly does, he long ago learned to focus his fear on what – or who – really matters.
Don’t worry, it won’t all be vegetables. She has tins of various meat products too, some with marrowbone jelly.
Of course, the sissy who is complaining here could always use his own safeword. Mistress is very committed to consensual BDSM and allows her sissies to safeword any activity they don’t like. But we’re only a couple of months into the year and he’s learnt it’s best to save it for something really brutal, rather than face ten months with no recourse except pathetic pleading.
Why not both, at the same time?
Try asking about her hobbies over dinner… it’s boring just hearing about someone’s work, anyway.

Queen for ever, ceasing never

Following yonder star.

…and best to put the bowl outside in the garden when it’s getting towards the end of the week, as you wouldn’t want that smell in the house.
Sometimes an enthusiastic amateur can be better than a pro.
Don’t worry: they don’t mean you.
When the ceremony’s over, and they’re leaving the church, it’s traditional to have him thrown from the steeple – and any bridesmaids who want to catch him can keep him.
Many people are opposed to the idea of arbitary power being exercised by unelected young ladies, but I really find it hard to understand why.
Live for the moment, as they say.

Youngers and betters

 

Memo to self: stop using the phrase “there’s nothing worse than X” in front of SO.  She takes it as a personal challenge.



You’ll soon discover that a day with no whipping at all is a special day. Very special.

 

 

 

 

Don’t worry, they’re not having you castrated and lobotomised until after the marriage.  Just after: between the ceremony and the reception.  You can think of it as your wedding gift to them.

 

 

 

 

 

Poor old Simon – doesn’t get to see the sexy lingerie!  And to think she was worried you might be jealous of him.



Appendectomy: of course.  After all, that nurse would hardly have shaved his groin area this morning if it was his throat that was being operated on, now would she?  

 

Feet first


It’s got to turn out my way one of these times…

Hmm… looks like she’s finished all of that bottle of water.
If it were being totally candid, it might suggest that it would occasionally appreciate being whipped just a little less hard, but fortunately it has the sense to keep its moronic opinions to itself.
I don’t see how the marriage can be regarded as consummated unless she has had sex too.  Hmm…  do you suppose that bell-boy is still around?  He seemed nice.
I think he’ll be cleaning her tank again.


The seven stages

  1. Denial
  2. Anger
  3. Indiferent denial, with a warning
  4. Bargaining
  5. Denial with retribution
  6. Desperate pleading
  7. Amused denial


You can get an app for it too.  Every day, it doesn’t remind you.






He thought if he told them he was a vicar they’d go easy on him.  He was wrong. My friend who’s an investment banker had a similar experience but much, much worse.


Fortunately, the balls don’t feel like the same thing either.  No more worrying about that knee!  But there are other things to worry about…
I didn’t understand why it had to be so wide, but then I met Richard.

It’s a ridiculous fantasy, of course.  You can’t just chop a man in half and then attach his dismembered body to separate halves of a sex doll.  Well… you can, obviously, but not so he continues to live. You’d think she’d have realised that after six tries, the silly thing.


Lip service

A good point.
I think she did, but I wasn’t listening.  Matter of fact, that’s one of the reasons I’m here.
This, I don’t need.

I hope she won’t be long.  Or too thick.









I’ve heard Gal isn’t keen in shaking hands with her many male fans.  I can’t imagine why not.

Panic of girls

Oh well.  It has to be better than that call centre in Dhaka she put me in last year.

That is what little boys are made of, after all.  Somehow I always knew.

Well, as long as she’s genuinely rehabilitated herself, I suppose it’s OK.

Girls have always known I’m ‘special’ and treated me accordingly.

 

I feel disempowered every time I even see a picture of Gal Gadot. I go weak at the knees.


Shameful display!




20 minutes? Women, eh?  I can get there in 20 seconds, usually before I’ve even got my trousers off.

,,,and footboys are sworn to the code of secrecy.  Also, rarely if ever allowed to go out or communicate with anyone except Mistress.

They proved it scientifically, using double-blind tests. 125 blindfolded men were slapped across the face repeatedly, over a period of three years (while others received equivalent amounts of pain in other ways, as a control).  On average, memory retention increased by 2.3%, on a statistically significant basis. The effect wasn’t uniform, though. Some subjects benefitted a lot, but fully 17% of the men receiving the slapping treatment were unable to remember anything at all from their lives before the programme started.  There’s obviously a lot still to learn, but the Institute just received a €8 million grant, so research continues.

 

He likes her to be pristine for when he comes on her breasts. 

Just what I always say.  It’s all very well to say that men and women should be equal in status and respect, but naughty bottoms don’t spank themselves, do they, so there has to be some differentiation of roles in marriage.  That’s a nice-looking corner, just behind them, by the way, don’t you think?  I expect they make good use of that.


Suffering fools

Gladly or otherwise.









I never want to be more than two paces behind… for the rest of my life.







I hate having to disturb her when she’s working.  But I can’t just take money from her purse without permission, so…







Tony gets steak and chips… not fair, I say.  But then he does have a night of vigorous sexual activity ahead of him, so I suppose he needs the calories.







Sometimes they get a babysitter, but if they’re not going out until 7.30 or so, it’s easier just to put Paul to bed half an hour early.  I mean it’s not like anything can go wrong, with his mittens fastened to the sides of the cucky-drawer.







Aparently, a lot of condemned prisoners have women writing to them offering sex.  I don’t think that’s going to happen to him, though.

Power play

Ah… the abusive dommie-psycho-mommie scene.  Part of every domme’s standard repertoire.  And all you need to get started are some wire coathangers.

The previous guy found the smell a bit pungent too.  In fact, he said it made him vomit, it was so bad. But I’m sure he was exaggerating.

Everyone knows women all love sitting around having their boots cleaned and then smeared with semen.  It’s amazing dommes get away with charging their clients so much to let them do it, really.

Hee hee.  I’ve actually let it drain to 90% but I’m going to tell her it’s fully charged, because 90% is still a green light!  Pretty sneaky, huh? That’s at least 25 minutes less screaming in agony.  Guess I’ll show her!

It won’t matter to anyone who matters, anyway.


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