The boys were falling like an avalanche

Ya ya baby.

I think she has a choice… maybe she should assert herself more? Take control of her own life (as well as yours, obviously).
Actually, the photo was taken just before this shoot went horribly wrong. She slipped and broke a heel, poor thing. And it wasn’t just a clean break at the base where it joins the sole, either: it splintered at a narrow part of the stem so the pair was a complete write off – one of her favourites too. Oh, and as she slipped, all her weight fell onto the saw for a moment, so there was blood all over that bench and… well, the whole day is not one of her happier memories, let’s just put it like that. She had other pairs of shoes, obviously, but that’s not really the point, is it? They were special.

You know where this wonderful image originated, don’t you? Of course you do.

It’s weird how bulls won’t fold and neatly stack their sex partners’ underwear, like a normal person.
No cup of tea for me? Oh well.
I hope they don’t fall out over the inheritance. Of course, it depends which husband dies first.
Dommes work hard. Mine locked me in a box the other day and gave me an entire 24 hour ignoring session, when I’d only expected three hours, and she didn’t charge me any premium over her usual hourly rates! They’re not as cruel and heartless as the image they mostly like to project, dommes, you know.

Books and bookwomen

Naturally, as a high-profile influencer, I get sent all manner of free materials, although regrettably few outright bribes. Most of this stuff goes straight in the bin, or is pulped and force-fed to me, depending on my SO’s mood, but I thought some of the upcoming book titles publishers are pushing might be of interest to those few of my readers who do more than look at the pictures and flick the ‘page down’ key with their spare hand. So, without further ado (what is ‘ado’ anyway?), here are some of those publishers’ blurbs.

I don’t have any information on the likely publication dates for these titles, but they should be available in all disreputable bookshops, so just keep an eye out.

Love conquers all

So it’s best to offer unconditional surrender.

He will. Happy place.
He needn’t worry that his session tribute will, increase, though: instead she has a completely different financial model she intends to apply.
My SO told me on our wedding night that our intercourse had lasted almost exactly 45 seconds too long for her to enjoy it – which I thought odd, as it had only lasted 45 seconds in total. Just the first of many misunderstandings, but we’ve come to understand one another very well now.
They won’t be fresh of course… in fact, by then they’ll probably be rank and fetid. Yum. I hope she’ll warm them up, though. Nothing worse than cold sweaty socks.
I’m sure if she could bend the rules on this occasion, she would. But she doesn’t make the… oh, hang on.
And afterwards it’s easy enough to keep you tight by just moving up one strap-on size each time. It’s surprising – and a bit uncomfortable – how big they go. But Anya has strong pelvic muscles, as she says, so that’s OK.

Never underestimate the power of male stupidity

It’s a force of nature. So are these ladies, fortunately.

Ah yes: trigonometry. That’s all about how much longer diagonal lines are than horizontal ones, isn’t it? And they’re a lot more painful too, if they overlay the earlier ones.
As the famous quote goes: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of irritating subs who need to learn their place and not question their Goddess.” Or something like that.
I once told my SO I thought she ought to pay more attention to my opinions, but I stupidly chose a bad moment for it: apparently it’s rude to talk to someone when they’re sitting on the toilet. Fortunately, I don’t think she heard what I was trying to say.
Many men find corner time a frustrating waste of time, but I’m usually happy standing there: thinking of all the things she cares about that I’m not fucking up during those hours.
It’s OK to cry. Which is just as well… I don’t know how I’d cope with marriage if it wasn’t.
So did they. Until they didn’t. Anyway, line-writing can be part of a loving female-led relationship: I should know, I’ve written that out hundreds if not thousands of times now.

Mislaid gratification

I hope the poor things manage to find something to amuse themselves with, without any men around.
My SO gets very angry about how widely accepted it used to be to tell sexist ‘mother-in-law’ jokes and I can’t say she’s wrong. I wish I could go back to the 1970s and just explain to those ‘comics’ how much pain their thoughtless and unfunny insults could cause.
In case you’re wondering how four fully grown women can stand on someone’s back without causing unacceptable injuries, there is of course a trick to taking a photo of this kind of pose: they used a male that no one cares about.
OK, that’s ‘the little talk’ over then. See? I told you she’d listen.
Don’t worry, he’s still going to pay for a steak. And leave a nice big tip (200% is standard, but his Mistress was feeling generous that night so she rounded it up to an even 1000).
Sometimes lifestyle changes can be the best way to deal with a bad back, but if you don’t get to decide on your own lifestyle, obviously that’s a non-starter. Incidentally, after this photo was taken the stupid baldy twat you can see kneeling down there had to be whipped for not expresing enough sympathy for her poor old Nan. Men can be so unfeeling.

Far and wide of the mark

Regular ‘readers’ of this blog who actually bother to look at the words, instead of just beating off to the pictures of pretty ladies looking stern, will realise that much of its ‘humour’ is inspired by the style of Gary Larson’s cartoon The Far Side.

Where ‘inspired’ in this context means “a pathetic and embarassing attempt to publish femdom porn in a manner that is spuriously justified”

This week’s ‘special’ (no, not your monthly ‘special’, you have to ask Mistress for that) is a collection of captions that are particularly blatant rip-offs of close homages to that style. Without, obviously, either (a) infringing anyone’s intellectual property rights or (b) being funny.

Enjoy. Or don’t. I get paid just as much either way.

So chic so fine you all look so divine

I do my best thinking in the corner. Sadly, it’s still not very good.
Reminds me of my SO, who has a real phobia about germs. If there are any streaks left in the toilet bowl, she calls me to lick them away immediately. Hygiene’s so important to good health, after all.
Apparently, many men find female sexual fantasy hard to accept – but as long as you’re tied tightly enough, you’ll accept whatever’s going on, I say.
Yeah, it’s weird: from a very early age I had no interest in playing with toy hammers or saws but show me a mop or a dishcloth and I’d be away. I used to play in the girls’ household corner at nursery school (kindergarten to you, most likely). Well… I used to clean up their mess after class, actually, but it was play for me.
Of course in reality she’s speaking in Czech and he ain’t from round there so I’m afraid he’s not getting much of this. He has picked up a few words already in his stay, but all he’s hearing is “—- flogging —- punishment —– ball-kicking —-“. Fortunately the OWK ladies have other ways of making themselves understood.
So if he’s already had gay sex eleven times, that implies a gay/straight ratio over the course of his life of… well: infinity.

Tools of the matriarchy

Fortunately, Sally has come equipped with all manner of pins, pincers and other sharp objects. Wasn’t that lucky?
You asked her if you could hear a little less ‘Julio says’ so here you are – three days when you won’t have to hear that bloody phrase once. Maybe even longer.
Sometimes the trickiest ethical questions in philosophy turn out to have remarkably simple solutions in practice.
Keep quiet and maybe they’ll forget you’re there.
Especially if the person in question were hypothetically restrained and unable to do anything about it, no matter how much he – sorry, they – hypothetically screamed and pleaded?
She’d worry she wasn’t doing it right, if you weren’t crying.

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling

With grovelling apologies to anyone with even the slightest taste, it’s a special OWK poetry day! You see, I – no, come back! Really, it’s not that bad, and anyway at least there are pictures of –

Hello?

Anyone still here?

Oh well, just you and me, then. OWK poetry, anyway, all based on the kind of traditional British canon I learnt (but perhaps suprisingly given my interests did not actually have beaten into me) at school. More difficult than it looks, even done this badly, especially as there is essentially no one-word rhyme in English for ‘kingdom’, or for that matter ‘Owk’.

Just in case any of you are interested, puzzled or just entirely short of better things to do sitting there, as you are, in front of a computer with your trousers down around your ankles, the actual poems these are mangled from are, in order:

  1. How do I love thee?
  2. Jabberwocky
  3. The Tyger
  4. The Waste Land
  5. Elegy written in a country churchyard
  6. To his coy Mistress

Perfectly unreasonable

Lots of men experience sudden, irrational fears the night before their wedding. Or rational fears, sometimes, too.
Feelings of inferiority are her therapeutic speciality.
Oh, poor thing. Maybe she should drive off to find a chemists’ shop to buy some antihistamine – it’s best to deal with these things early, before the bites become inflamed.
I’ve tried paying for the ‘realistic girlfriend experience’ a few times, but it’s really a waste of money. They often don’t turn up and even if they do, we usually go to a bar or something where they get off with someone else and leave without me.
‘Cos she’s her laaaydeee… and you’re their male.
Erm… that spanking went without a hitch…no. This painting’s a bit kitsch… Oh dear.
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