hair – Contemplating the divine

Celestial bodies

Good thing she brought a sub. They’re used to them on fashion shoots, of course: no self-respecting model would be seen without an obedient puppy boy on a leash or a sissy maid at a respectful three paces behind, these days.

She prides herself on being the perfect hostess: it’s all about making sure someone makes the effort to prepare everything properly before the guests arrive, apparently.

Humiliation play can be a tricky thing. I once met up with a domme in cafe for public humiliation play and soon found myself being insulted, belittled and eventually slapped by this elegant, blonde lady in high heels and furs. Perfect – until I discovered I’d got the wrong cafe entirely and the domme I’d booked had been waiting impatiently in the one around the corner. Most embarassing.

The lovely Princess Kali, there, trying not to engage in humiliation play.

If all that fails, I understand there’s a briar patch they can throw you into.

I hope someone tells the patient that someone with the right skills and training is looking after his wife. Otherwise he might be feeling anxious for her.

An unfair crack of the whip

More captioned images celebrating the delightful ways our superiors can be unreasonable and unfair.

Trying to top from the bottom again, were you? She’s wise to your little power-play.

Try thinking of her needs rather than your own, for a change.

If he correctly picks a yellow one he gets an orgasm. So there’s that to look forward to.

Just remember the two absolute rules: (1) never lie to Mistress and (2) Mistress is always right. As long as your answer conforms to both of those, you should be fine.

She likes it done just right. It never, ever is.

Oh dear. And the punishment was nearly done before that little act of defiance.

Lady Sophia Black, who I can tell you from personal and painful but wonderful experience did the ‘impossible to please’ thing better than any other domme I have ever known.

You must submit to supreme suffering in order to discover the completion of joy

John Calvin said that, kinky little slut that he was.

I hope that isn’t real fur. It’s cruel, you know.

Oh, I hate sissy play-dates, don’t you? Sometimes I’d rather just be left at home, chained up on the back porch. But my preferences don’t enter into it.

I don’t see what isn’t sexy about any of that.

He should take her seriously. Very, very seriously.

You could ask. What’s the worst that can happen?

Pointing turns

Yup, those. Number forty in an occasional… forty? Forty?? Bloody hell, how long have I been doing this blog?

Unrelenting love

Don’t worry: what it lacks in teasing, it makes up in denial.

My gender doesn’t so much sit on a spectrum as cower timidly beneath one.

He’s a bit dim too, to be honest. Well… thick as two short planks, to be quite brutal about it. But she doesn’t seem to mind that, oddly.

I think she might have had an idea.

Many women just hate it when important discussions are side-tracked by irrelevant opinions. My SO has very low tolerance for that sort of thing, which is unfortunate as all my opinions are irrelevant.