Category: legs to die for

Mislaid gratification

I hope the poor things manage to find something to amuse themselves with, without any men around.
My SO gets very angry about how widely accepted it used to be to tell sexist ‘mother-in-law’ jokes and I can’t say she’s wrong. I wish I could go back to the 1970s and just explain to those ‘comics’ how much pain their thoughtless and unfunny insults could cause.
In case you’re wondering how four fully grown women can stand on someone’s back without causing unacceptable injuries, there is of course a trick to taking a photo of this kind of pose: they used a male that no one cares about.
OK, that’s ‘the little talk’ over then. See? I told you she’d listen.
Don’t worry, he’s still going to pay for a steak. And leave a nice big tip (200% is standard, but his Mistress was feeling generous that night so she rounded it up to an even 1000).
Sometimes lifestyle changes can be the best way to deal with a bad back, but if you don’t get to decide on your own lifestyle, obviously that’s a non-starter. Incidentally, after this photo was taken the stupid baldy twat you can see kneeling down there had to be whipped for not expresing enough sympathy for her poor old Nan. Men can be so unfeeling.

Stocking fillers

Always such a rush… I mean, you wait all year for Christmas, then…

 

 

Many submissive men are rather bad at shorthand, which is a shame as most dominant ladiies really enjoy dictating.

 

 

I once jokily asked a domme if she did ‘big penis humiliation’ – and rather to my surprise she said she did, although as it turned out most of the actual work in-session was done by her friend Marcus.

 

 

No, no… don’t make me sniff that stinky stocking, Brer Mistress!

 

 

 

If you’re crying more often than you’re coming you’ve reached next-level sub status. Either that or you’re much too young to be reading this blog.


Divine Order

I worship her divine shadow.
 

I’ve had a few bruising relationships myself, but I usually have to pay for them.
 
Unless she forgets, obviously.
It’s obviously preying on her mind, the poor thing.
I pay a sex worker to have vanilla intercourse, once a month.  She usually sends me a picture of the lucky guy.








She’ll get round to yours.  You just need to wait very patiently.  Try shifting your weight from side to side a bit if your knees are starting to hurt.

 

I am not a doormat

OK: that’s not strictly accurate: obviously I am a doormat. But I’m not just a doormat, you know?  I am also a foot-rest, a cup-holder, a draft excluder, a bookshelf end and a rather amusing vase for flowers.  Although no more than three of those things simultaneously.

It’s odd how sometimes the most sadistic individuals so often realise later that they weren’t cruel enough.  My SO has this problem all the time: you’d think she’d learn and stop being so lenient.

So… does that mean next week it’s my turn again?  No?  Oh.

There seems to be quite a lot of shared understanding in that room. Obviously some great teaching techniques being applied.

Lion?  Lover-boy?  Lady-killer?  Liposome?  Leprechuan?

Perhaps they could somehow transplant the ones from the real rapist?  After a fair trial and conviction, obviously.  Oh – he already lost them in the police station?  That’s unlucky.  Funny how often that happens… you’d think the police would take more care.




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