Category: hair

A post dealing with feelings of low self-worth

So, just like all my other posts then.

Tsk! Mixed signals. Why do women do that?
The guy has it easy, if you think about it: I mean, the ladies are the ones doing all the work. Jasmine’s amazing, by the way: she doesn’t hold back. I don’t know where she gets her stamina. I hope he’s appropriately grateful.
Don’t worry, after a few years of marriage you’ll have a very keenly-developed understanding of exactly what annoys her and by precisely how much. There’s quite a lot, but one of the joys of marriage is learning about one another, isn’t it?
I suspect the hairdresser might be slightly less amused if she discovers how much money Mistress is being paid to sit there and mock her slave, compared to how much she’s actually paying for the haircut. Well… she‘s not actually going to be paying this time, obviously, and she’ll make sure he leaves a massive tip, but you know what I mean.
He’s barely paying attention because he’s upset she hasn’t noticed or commented on the ‘anniversary bunny ears’. He went to so much trouble…
He will. Mentally, he already is and has been for some years now.

Taskmistresses

Money discussions can often be the most difficult and painful things a relationship has to cope with to a relationship. I’m grateful to my SO, because she has found a way to ensure we never have to discuss money at all.
I used to have delusions of adequacy, but these days I know my limits.
He might prefer being screamed at in Czech, but I’m afraid Mistress Morrigan Hel and Goddess Sophia speak his language – and would like to hear his appreciation in it. Doesn’t their hair look lovely in the sun? And don’t their boots? And their attitudes?
She enjoys the slapping of course, but waking up next to a loved one with painful bruises on his face and welts all over his body is the true value of the relationship, for her.
These are my principles. If you don’t like them (and you are female) I have others.
“If you won’t scold and dominate us…”

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.
Or those she has set for you.

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.

Scurry scurry….
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?

Her guiding hand

No need to try to remember when you last saw it, obviously, as you don’t forget something like that.
Teach a man to fish, he’ll catch fish whenever he feels like it and probably spend most of his time masturbating; brutally cane him whenever he fails to meet his fish quota, you can live off the fishery earnings for life.
Isn’t that more important? I mean, for one thing she’s going to have a lot more orgasms than you would – as will the two lads too – so it’s a net plus, in utilitarian terms.
Honestly, they’ve gone to all this trouble to give you a terrifying, agonising and life-threatening experience… seems churlish to whine about the weather.
But any lady who does actually decide to break a leg should make sure it belongs to someone not in the show.

Love not given lightly

There’s no excuse for that kind of blatant rebellion; I hope she deals firmly with it.
I always get embarassed in these situations – when you’re with someone and she starts talking to someone else and you’re kind of there, but also not really in the conversation, you know? You can try nuzzling her shoes, or something, to remind her you’re there too, but it’s still usually a bit awkward.
OWK being OWK, of course, the used wax strips covered in this animal’s fur will then be stirred into the slops for the next feeding time in the Queen’s Prison.
Pink? Pink? Well what’s wrong with pink?
She always feels it’s best to be businesslike, rather than sentimental, when breaking off a relationship.
She wants you to have an orgasm, but you’re not making it easy for her.

Intended consequences

I wonder why she didn’t get much sleep? Probably worrying you might be cold out there, the sweet thing.
Good to know it’s nice and strong. Nothing worse than the feeling that one of your bonds is working loose , when you’re screaming, thrashing around in agony and pleading for mercy, is there?
I often accompany my SO to the hairdresser – the girls there have a kind of competition to see who can give me the stupidest-looking cut.
I think she’s getting the hang of ‘it’the domination sex thing’. The trick is not to get hung up on the ‘sex’ bit.
Tsk… any time you’re ready, ladies!
Maybe she just lacks confidence, the poor thing. Doesn’t want to embarass herself by not being quite the accomplished lesbian, when it’s finally time for you to watch in mute frustration. Fortunately, she’s always been a quick learner.

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.
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