gimp – Contemplating the divine

Ferocious and fascinating

Oh well. I suppose they can stick with this one for a while, until they find something better.

Looks like a good earthy loam, much more palatable than the acidic, chalky stuff where I live.

Female supremacy’s actually quite simple at heart – even a male can be brought to an understanding of it, with a little effort.

Whatever floor she wants is the floor you can become.

In later life, Mike would ruefully recall worrying that Carole would turn into her mother, little imagining how much stricter she could become.

Do you want to see a grown man cry?

I suppose they’re better suited to a ‘1980s called’ post, like the last one, but I can’t resist linking to the ladies in this lovely dance act from the time, as they do indeed all look as if they just strode imperiously from the pages of those old femdom magazines. Ahhhhh…

Sometimes couples need a little time apart. I’m sure my own relationship is much stronger for all the time I spend in the oubliette – out of sight and out of mind.

Don’t worry: there’s an emergency over-ride code. She’s got it written down somewhere, I expect.

Consent is a gift in a BDSM relationship – and doesn’t she deserve to be given everything you possess and more?

The first time I (tried to) have sex with a girl she said it was a ‘unique’ experience and, looking back now, I’m impressed by how prescient she was.

Some commenters might be tempted to observe that the sundial’s not going to work if most of it is in the shade. To which I’d reply, first, that it’s art not mere functional construction and, second, that you are welcome to explain that to Mistress Jennifer, just as three of the men in this picture did. She always needs more materials. Finally, some pedant or other is bound to point out that there are thirteen figures on the dial, to which I can only say that Mistress J has an Orwellian approach to many things in her life.

Remember: if you don’t like any of the contractual terms, you can just walk away now and never, ever see her again. It’s time to think about what’s important in life.

And there we are! That’s the end of Tuesday’s post. So… yeah! No more new material here until Friday, I suppose. Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays, those are the days Servitor posts. I mean, it’s not as if there’s ever a post on Wednesday, right? That would just be weird. So no point in coming back to check, tomorrow. Although… you never know, right? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick look on Wednesday. Now, would it?

No woman is so good or so bad, but that at any moment she is capable of the most diabolical as well as of the most divine

I don’t think she should pander to the male gaze like that – why should she have to go to the trouble of snapping her bra every few months just for his pleasure?

He should have read her FAQs more carefully. OK, they don’t specifically mention beards – or anything to do with facial hair, to be honest – but they are quite clear about being ‘annoying’ and I think even beardy-boys can be expected to read between the lines just a little.

Oooh – sissy maid play? But what shall we iron?

As is usually the case when one has to leave a video call early, it took Trevor a minute or two over his official ‘hard stop’ deadline to extricate himself from the call. But she was very understanding about it. Not forgiving – not in the least – but very understanding.

They say the nervous waiting, wondering what it will be like, is the worst part. But that probably just goes to show that ‘they’ have never been fucked hard enough up the arse, as that is definitely the worst part.

Sanity, thy name is woman

Oh dear. I think the discussion about whether you need to be microchipped is finally over.

She wears things that turn you on… dresses, shoes, that kind of thing. So: time to slip into something less comfortable for her.

Actually everything was OK, because it turns out Treasure’s a bit kinky too. Well… maybe kinky’s not quite the right word. It’s more that she had deep-seated issues of rage towards the male sex to work through, but the result is much the same in practice.

She has developed a technique for dealing with panic attacks… usually she just goes off and has a cup of tea.

The lovely Maîtresse Blanche, there, who applies her treatments in a pretty little town near Fontainebleu outside Paris. I have been in that position, presumably in that very chair, and I was coping… OK with it all, until she discovered I was ticklish. But she coped very well with my not coping.

If you’re lucky she might let you have a longer ankle chain. But I wouldn’t bet on it.

Kitten’s going to think *really hard* about that.

Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling

It’s a very rewarding relationship. But there can also be penalties.

She hasn’t completely forgiven him you understand. The topic *will* come up again… but that’s enough for one day.

A bit thoughtless of Suzie, I’d say, leaving her gimp chained up for her friends to look after. She could have got one of those autofeeder things and saved them a lot of trouble. Or just a really big bucket for the food mixture.

Then you can get on with making dinner. They’re going to be hungry, I expect.

I never know anything. Wouldn’t particularly want to, if I were there… I could just be.

…and an extra one, which I wrote in a particularly worshipful mood.

… although actually that’s not true (like many things on this blog), because obviously in session you can get away with calling her ‘Mistress’. Which was just as well for me, as I’d always assumed it was some variant of ‘El-ee-ssa’. I was granted the extraordinary privilege of visiting Mistress Eleise three or four times about ten years ago and I never did realise I was saying her name wrong in my head until I heard her say it in a video, quite recently. Fortunately, I never committed the unforgiveable sin of mispronouncing her name out loud, to her very feet (oh, those feet…). Not that it got me out of the slappings (and the mocking… oh, that mocking!) I so thoroughly deserved.