lesbians – Contemplating the divine

Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling

It’s a very rewarding relationship. But there can also be penalties.

She hasn’t completely forgiven him you understand. The topic *will* come up again… but that’s enough for one day.

A bit thoughtless of Suzie, I’d say, leaving her gimp chained up for her friends to look after. She could have got one of those autofeeder things and saved them a lot of trouble. Or just a really big bucket for the food mixture.

Then you can get on with making dinner. They’re going to be hungry, I expect.

I never know anything. Wouldn’t particularly want to, if I were there… I could just be.

…and an extra one, which I wrote in a particularly worshipful mood.

… although actually that’s not true (like many things on this blog), because obviously in session you can get away with calling her ‘Mistress’. Which was just as well for me, as I’d always assumed it was some variant of ‘El-ee-ssa’. I was granted the extraordinary privilege of visiting Mistress Eleise three or four times about ten years ago and I never did realise I was saying her name wrong in my head until I heard her say it in a video, quite recently. Fortunately, I never committed the unforgiveable sin of mispronouncing her name out loud, to her very feet (oh, those feet…). Not that it got me out of the slappings (and the mocking… oh, that mocking!) I so thoroughly deserved.

Whip smart

Just to cite one possibility, at random, among so many.

The Honourable Dogbreath-Twattington takes his role very seriously and never reaches a decision without careful thought about the possible consequences of getting it wrong.

Some prefer candles and soft music but they’ve discovered through much experimentation that this is what works for them.

He’ll thank her for it eventually, you’ll see.

Oh, I hate playing the ‘guess what I stepped in’ game. Surprisingly enough, for instance, beetles and slugs taste very similar, despite actually coming from entirely separate phylla of the animal kingdom.

Oooh kerosene play! Quite edgy if you currently have quite a lot of body hair, I understand.

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.

Insults and injuries

Never was, in any sense that ever mattered to anyone, to be honest.

Don’t worry: mere viewing of the photos on the Internet carries a much lighter penalty. If it’s a first offence, you should get away with just a day visit to the re-education centre.

I’m sure there are planty of more experienced readers of this blog who could help Miss Chambers out.

See? There was no reason to worry about telling her. Kitten understands completely and she’ll adapt to the new situation.

Of course, the good Governess will have to make up for it on a subsequent visit, but there’s no need to think about that now.

Minds immeasurably superior to ours

And slowly and surely, they drew their plans against us. A beautiful but somehow… disturbing sight. *

More science fiction.

* Yes, yes, I know I’ve quoted War of the Worlds before in the title of one of these. But not the Jeff Wayne version, right? Wee-oo, wye-oh, we-UHHH!

Sexual inequality

Oh, those grabber machines… they can be such an exercise in frustration.

Their buy-one-get-one-free offers are pretty good, but they had to abandon their no-questions-asked policy on taking back damaged goods, as too many dommes were abusing it.

You’ve got to be careful with the wording of hard limit lists. For example, mine rules out blow torch play, but it turns out welding arcs are actually hotter! Oh well, live and learn.

It’s easy to tell them apart – his helmet reads ‘other gimp’.

It might all sound complicated but actually, it’s a lot easier to learn Czech than… well: refusing to learn Czech. You’ll see. Don’t worry about making grammatical and other mistakes at first: the ladies expect that; in fact they rather enjoy pointing out those little errors.

The trutch can be painful, but not usually quite as painful as lies.

Fateful decisions

Fateful for you, that is. The decisions are hers alone.

I think there’s room for some negotiation here, where by ‘negotiation’ I mean abject and unconditional begging for her forgiveness and scurrying off to do exactly what she said.

It’s one of his domme’s favourite activities. The local pet supply shop does so well out of her, the owners sent her a Christmas card.

Ooh – sounds like she might be about to give you a second chance! Guess that cheesy chat-up line worked after all, huh?

Next, I expect she’ll ask about what happens when you plug it into the electrical mains and turn the dial. They always do… those that don’t just try it for themselves without asking.

I’ve never understood guys who get sexual pleasure from tying up or gagging women. If she can’t speak, how can she order you about? Anyway, such men are nasty perves who enjoy hurting people, and there should be zero tolerance of that, so I’m sure they deserve whatever these two public-spirited ladies and their friends have planned.

Pleading hearts

Don’t worry if you’re not ‘man enough to take it’, that won’t bother her in the least.

If it gets too irritating, she could always turn it into one of those cults where everyone kills themselves. Or I suppose she could just stop reading their prayer-filled messages on social media… Anyway, she has options.

That’s the third time Mistress ‘forgot’ this month. She never used to be that forgetful. I do hope she’s all right.

If it’s really the nails that are bothering you, she could use screws? Or just industrial glue, I suppose, but that would be a lot less fun for her.

Or have a sissy-fight over it, with lots of shrieking and hair-pulling.

Good boys always follow

As Ms Harry said, and I don’t think there’s any arguing with that.

I’m just relieved that the pins all the bridesmaids were issued with are for symbolic purposes. I’d imagined… well, it doesn’t matter, does it?

Males have difficulty sometimes in following through the logical consequences of their own statements. It’s not really their fault, they’re just morons.

Her company takes bullying very seriously. So does she.

Part of the reason the Kerbside Sexist Service is so popular, of course, is the generous rebates of up to 1000% on the subscription fee, paid by the sexists themselves. It makes ‘peace of mind’ very affordable.

Yeah, weird that. Mine are mostly for locksmiths, for reasons I’ve never understood, but at least that’s not something my SO could find objectionable, I suppose.

Commanding voices

No sense in rushing these things. My SO always says that I can spend as long as I like – longer even – across the whipping bench, any time I feel like putting one of her orders off until later. It’s nice to have that kind of flexibility.

The name hardly matters, anyway. Usually she’ll just announce what she wants done and you’ll be able to tell when it’s you who’s supposed to do it, just from the tone of her voice.

Her logic is irrefutable (and any attempt to refute it would be a long and painful process anyway).

These are of course the magnificent Goddess Sophia, on (and in) the right there, who has had the discomfort of having to scrape Servitor off the sole of her shoe several times over the years. And Ms Morrigan Hel, on the left, with whom I have not had the pleasure, although she did once walk past a cage I was in.