housework – Page 6 – Contemplating the divine

Repressed sexuality

It’s the best kind, as long as the right person is doing the repressing

I can’t remember – but it was ‘maggot’ very soon after, that’s for sure.

The magnificent Gigi Allens, of course. She’s been featured here before.

I’ve been working through feelings of self-loathing with my therapist. She says I’m getting quite good at them… but I know I could do a lot better if only I weren’t so lazy.

Cute, isn’t she? And the girl’s nice too. Ba-boom!

Oh well. No harm done. And probably quite a lot of good, really.

Everyone’s different. Some of us are more diferent than others, though.

He works if you hurt him

So keep coming back.

I expect there’s some good news as well. Just not for them.

You’re about to find out what happened to all the other pizza delivery boys, by the look of it.

The worrying thing is that there’s at least 900 strokes of the cane due from missed weekly whippings. Still, plenty of time. He’s only 58 years old… or is it 57?

And the really good bit of the scheme is he gets to ask for another ticket to be drawn as often as he likes. Or as often as she likes.

She’s got a point there, actually. And did you know that a cloth and a dab of polish will get boots much cleaner than even eight hours of careful tongue-work? It’s true. We could get the whole femdom thing done a lot quicker if we just took more advantage of modern technology.

I stand, corrected

Every Sunday from 2pm to 4pm, and usually once or twice during the week as well.

It’s a shame, but if Beth’s not prepared to put in the effort of whipping him to get the house the way it should be, she just has to go.

Of course, she can do it herself. But it’s good to have a really thorough going-over by a professional every so often too, don’t you think?

And even if you weren’t thinking it then, you certainly thought it when she mentioned it, didn’t you? So – no excuses.

They say the first four hours are the worst. They’re wrong.

Dommes. Not always easy to please. But then, that’s not why we visit them.

I was so upset that I cried

… all the way to the chip shop

(trigger warning: video is unrelated to the subject matter of this blog, although I suppose those with a really really strong cuckoldry and insult fetish might just about find something in it).

And she’ll hold on to that very special key, just to make specially sure.

It’s true, actually. There’s nothing that drives away mild discomfort quite like agony.

A bit foolish, really. She could easily claim pro-domme rates for acting as his slavemistress and then where would he be?

I eventually got round to asking my wife whether my performance in bed was OK or not. I was a bit worried, but actually she was very nice about it. Said it was so long ago she’d completely forgotten after all these years and why would it matter to anyone anyway? I was so relieved.

Silly wasting money on a bus when it’s only eight miles anyway. Think how good you’d feel putting the bus fare into the fur coat fund instead. Every little helps.

Oh, I hope there’ll be jellyfish

The servitor who uploads material to this blog will be on an undeserved holiday for the next few weeks. Normally awful service will be maintained, through the magic of ‘scheduling’ and comments – especially abusive ones – remain as welcome as ever, but will not be responded to (so the grovelling apologies must wait).

The jellyfish thing? Oh yeah. This.

You know, I heard once that feeling sad and lonely is just your body’s way of telling you what an unpleasant person you are to be with? Makes a lot of sense.

I’m slowly working my way into her affections, I reckon.

Mmmpphhh grtrrth.

Of course, they’ll need to use something else to achieve the burning sensation. Hot coals, maybe? They’re very creative.

Hope there’s some beer for me.

Tales of shame and degradation

Kinky and socially useful at the same time! What’s not to like?

Better be worth it… I need those fingers for my everyday sex life.

He did mind. But she didn’t.

Oh well. Live and learn.

Don’t diss housework simulators. After a hard day’s ironing, there’s nothing I like better than to relax with SimLaundry 3. I’m about to earn the 10,000 pleated skirt achievement.

Well versed in etiquette

Fastidious and precise.

Maybe ask for a prescription for some painkillers?

Well, obviously not every month. That would be silly. But maybe occasionally..?

Shame clothing. I’ve never found I’ve needed it.

Who needs pocket money when your skirts don’t even have pockets?

Hmm. It might be a while before the next blog posting. And it might be a bit dull… (more so than usual, even).

Taking pains

She does and so, therefore, do I.

But not here. I just slap any old rubbish on a photo and stick it on the blog.

Damn. Why is it always about penis size? Honestly, sometimes it just seems like women are obsessed with it.

Urrgglll – nnnnh!

I’m glad I’m into humiliation. Otherwise, I’d probably find a lot of my encounters with women quite unpleasant.

Well, that went well.

Goodness, sounds like she’s going to get quite cross. That could help, actually.

Gynophilia/gynophobia

The love of women and the fear of women. I have both conditions.

Hmmm… She’s merely disappointed, not repulsed. I’ll consider that as progress.

It’s a sacred bond – or a device for getting the housework done, depending on whether your finger’s on the button.

Don’t worry: he’s very professional. You can be tied tightly naked over his trestle, and no matter how horny he’s feeling, you won’t have a thing to worry about. Well, except the savage beating you’re about to receive, obviously.

…and she does mean everywhere.

She’ll track them down. She’s very persistent. Anyway, can’t have feral males running about the place can we?

Back under the saddle

Ah well, summer holidays over and it’s back to the daily grind. Which to be honest can leave you quite sore, especially when you then have to get up and go to work. But who am I to argue?

I hope you enjoyed the archival clear-out over August. But not that you enjoyed it so much you did anything you shouldn’t.

Back to normal. More of the same, but written more recently.