Category: fetch

Wait until she gets home

And if, when she does, she doesn’t come to open the cage, you can wait until she goes out again, too, and then start the whole thing all over again. It helps pass the time.

The occasional spanking can form part of a healthy and mutually-respectful relationship… as well as the sorts of relationships celebrated on this blog too, obviousy.
If it’s any consolation, she is actually wearing silk underwear.
She’s determined to make fetch happen.
It was this or the kennels and that can just be more trouble than it’s worth. All that fuss about how they generally only take dogs and cats… speciesism, that’s what it is.
She needs to develop techniques to relax, maybe take some of the tension away, especially if she’s going to be watching a lot of castrations. I expect going to lie down in the nurse’s room will help.
Apparently, the priest is planning to preach a sermon on practising thankfulness in marriage, which seems very apposite.

You know how you feel at the iron gripe of ruthless oppression…

… you know how you bear the galling sneer of contumelious greatness.

Robert Burns said that. And how right he was, despite being a man. “Contumelious” was new to me: it means an “insulting display of contempt in words or actions; contemptuous or humiliating treatment.” How weird at my age to learn a new word for something I have adored for so long.

The next time I email a domme requesting a session I must remember to ask for ‘contumelious’ treatment. I’m sure she’d be impressed and give me exactly the treatment I need.

Don’t worry – I’m sure she doesn’t mean you.*
That must be very reassuring.
Ah, now I’m afraid I can’t go along with this. Consent is the alpha and omega in a BDSM relationship – never forget that. A few times early in my relationship I withheld consent when my SO was about to punish me and she got bloody furious, believe me. I won’t be making that mistake again.
She missed a trick, there: should have translated it into millimetres. Then it’s quite an impressive number: almost into double figures.
Tsk… no one’s even bothered to clean them. How can she stand putting them on her feet?
What men’s libbers don’t seem to realise is that in being so annoying, they’re reinforcing precisely the stereotypes about male behaviour they get so upset about. But then, if they weren’t so stupid, they probably wouldn’t be libbers in the first place, would they? I think most of them just need to be taken firmly in hand.

* No really. You’re quite different; so you can appreciate this kind of caption ironically, rather than feeling insulted. Anyway, you only read the blog for the jokes, right?