hunting – Page 2 – Contemplating the divine

Excruciatingly pleasurable

Why bring up painful old memories? She seems nice… maybe it’s time for a fresh start?

Oddly enough, I never experienced corporal punishment as a child. My SO says we have to make up for lost time, and she’s probably right. She usually is.


Why do my dates always end up like this?

Traditional country sports went through a bit of a low patch in the years between the Foxhunting (Prohibition) Act and the Sexual Offences (Remedial and Preventative Measures) Act, but they’re now more popular than ever, even though men aren’t allowed to take part. As riders, I mean.


Oh dear. She’s right, you know. I am a very, very bad person. Fortunately, this very evening I am visiting someone to whom I have given a lot of money to beat me for my sins. So that’s all right.

Freddie’s back

If you like Contemplating the Divine* then you will certainly have loved Freddie’s Tales.** You, therefore, like me, will have been devasted when Freddie’s Tales disappeared from one day to the next. Also like me, therefore***, you will be absolutely delighted that Freddie is back, with a new blog and no doubt just raring to produce more of those fabulous Beetle books.

So get yourself over to Freddie’s new blog. I – hey come back! I didn’t mean now. Read the captions below first, moron. That’s what you came here for, right? Men… I dunno.

My SO and I have been experimenting with pre-signed suicide notes. It’s a kind of next-level thing, you know? Edgy, I know, but it works for us.

I think I can give her 110%.

Sounds like you are actually going to be discussing it… at length. But not until you’re safely married.

Consent seems to be a theme of this post. That’s because it’s so important. My SO always insists that I consent to everything she does to me.

Thank goodness they no longer hunt foxes. That was so cruel.

* And if you don’t like Contemplating the Divine what the fuck are you doing here? Are you some kind of weird masochist or something? Freak.

** Except the Femsub bits, obviously. One day, I hope young Freddie will meet a lady who will set him right about the suitability of that sort of material.

*** Writing this, I realise how uncannily similar we are, you and I. We laugh at the same things, cry together – we should get a drink some time, yeah?

Her aim is true

Girls with guns! Babes with bazookas! Ladies with lethal weaponry! Women with weapons! Femmes with firearms! Honeys with hunting rifles! Goddesses with…erm… guided missiles?

That’s today’s theme, anyway. We don’t always have a theme. But today we have naming of parts. Makes a change from daily cleaning.

When I look at her, I can barely think at all.

This is her rifle. There are many like it, but this one is hers.

Or in a pie.

Hmmm. If only men could think faster. I’m sure I could come up with a plan.

It’s always irritating just hearing half of a phone conversation, isn’t it?

You made a life out of hurting me

Well, a career anyway. (warning: link is DSFW*)

*Disappointingly safe for work.

Yeah, just do whatever comes naturally. She doesn’t mind.

Apparently, onset of the male menopause can occur as early as your 20s. You just have to marry the right woman.


And what’s Ioannis got that I haven’t, I’d like to know?

In an emergency, she could always just use one of the hotel’s coathangers or something.

She only puts the big ones on her trophy wall. Smaller ones she makes into into novelty hat or shoe racks and sells them on e-bay..

Fear and loving

Oh, no. Not Lucy.

They do furnish a room.

It’s a good idea to have it written there on the fridge, to remind you both that it’s overdue. I’m sure she’ll get round to it, though – no need to nag.

Boring old politics. Still, you’d better go along to look pretty on her arm.

You could kiss and make up.

Frankly, Mistress, spank me

The title of course, yet another attempt to gain a veneer of artistic respectability by quoting someone with talent, in this case The Smiths.

The song speaks to me, though, and especially this line:
I didn’t realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry

No poetry today, you’ll be pleased to hear. Onward, with feeling:

I’m not sure what this caption is on about, to be honest. All lesbian couples look like this, don’t they? It must be true – the Internet sez so.

Keeps you fit. Very good for your health. Until she reaches five, anyway.

One day I’ll meet someone who appreciates me just for what I am – a pathetic, desperate and unattractive loser who’ll willingly hand over cash for a brief moment of pretence that I am otherwise.

The lovely Princess Kali, being lovely as ever.

Just another attempt to make some positive use of the flood of male-dom pictures swirling around and polluting our beloved Internet.

Beneath her gaze

…it’s where I like to be.

(I’ve made a small change to the blog, making it wider (less blank space on the left, more room for larger pictures. It works on my computer and on IE, but let me know if it doesn’t work for you. I’ve made the pictures larger in a few of the posts below, and of course for all future ones, but I’m not going to go back over older posts, so in some of them the pictures look a bit small and lonely. Still, you can’t have everything, as I am reminded on a daily basis.)

So, now you know. Don’t pout after a beating. Oh – and no smug little smiles either, you know how she hates that. Just try to keep those rules in mind.

As if it wasn’t already embarassing enough being the only man at a lesbian wedding.

Try to think calm thoughts. Getting all panicky and upset at the thought of imminent brain damage or death just doesn’t help anyone, OK?

Actually, she’s going to hang it from the same rack as the tawse, the paddle and the cane anyway, so there’s a bit of a clue right there.

Of course, the dogs are trained just to restrain the quarry, not to hurt him. They seize his trouser legs hard, and they hold on until the ladies arrive at the scene. Only then – and only when given the word – will they go for his throat.