lesbians – Contemplating the divine

The bonds of love

It’s easy to wait patiently when you’re chained up. Or at least, it’s not different in any sense that really matters from waiting impatiently. Still… if there’s a biscuit going, I’m not saying no!

Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time for desperately remorseful apologies – they might even let you beg for forgiveness, if they’re in a generous mood.

Cruella, of course – even the Editrix herself (yes she was, who else do you imagine wrote the editorials?), Lady Victoria, on the right there. She inspired Goddess-Lady Lucia, you know.

Arguably, offering a plausible explanation is ‘impertinence’ in and of itself, but I’ve learnt not to argue.

Fortunately, your wife has a very high tolerance for observing pain, so I doubt the safeword will be needed. Still: safe, sane and consensual, right? Any BDSM play should incorporate at least two of those.

Not a good start to a lifetime of married bliss, is it? Still, I expect you’ll improve and she expects that too.

See – and you were worried you wouldn’t be respected in this relationship! They value your expertise in menial drudgery and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

The boys were falling like an avalanche

Ya ya baby.

I think she has a choice… maybe she should assert herself more? Take control of her own life (as well as yours, obviously).

Actually, the photo was taken just before this shoot went horribly wrong. She slipped and broke a heel, poor thing. And it wasn’t just a clean break at the base where it joins the sole, either: it splintered at a narrow part of the stem so the pair was a complete write off – one of her favourites too. Oh, and as she slipped, all her weight fell onto the saw for a moment, so there was blood all over that bench and… well, the whole day is not one of her happier memories, let’s just put it like that. She had other pairs of shoes, obviously, but that’s not really the point, is it? They were special.

You know where this wonderful image originated, don’t you? Of course you do.

It’s weird how bulls won’t fold and neatly stack their sex partners’ underwear, like a normal person.

I hope they don’t fall out over the inheritance. Of course, it depends which husband dies first.

Dommes work hard. Mine locked me in a box the other day and gave me an entire 24 hour ignoring session, when I’d only expected three hours, and she didn’t charge me any premium over her usual hourly rates! They’re not as cruel and heartless as the image they mostly like to project, dommes, you know.

Those uncomfortable conversations

Try not to pity her boyfriend too much, abject slave to his desires though he is: he doesn’t know any better, poor soul.

Don’t worry: she’s not really going to change her name to Mrs Pencildick. As a matter of fact, her husband’s the one who’s going to be legally changing his surname. To hers, obviously, although she is considering making him change his *first* name officially to Pencildick, or some such, at the same time.

It’s the same algorithm that sends you all those dick enlargement emails. Oh… you thought they were just spam? No, they’re very carefully targetted. Most other guys don’t get them.

When setting up a session with a new domme I usually ask her to treat me with utter contempt and disdain and I have to say, my experience has been that they’re all startlingly good at it. Sometimes I don’t even ask and they still get it right… I guess experienced dommes develop a kind of sixth sense for what their clients are looking for.

He obviously survived to a ripe old age… imagine him keeping the book all those decades, turning the pages occasionally to reminisce over his days under Miss Rathbone’s loving tyranny, only for the book to be sold to a second-hand shop after his death. Still: looks like it’s found an appreciative home.

…and just a little bit of found femdom to finish (do hurry up and finish, won’t you? Your wife will be back soon and you don’t want her to find you like this). More divine Joy…. who has done this many, many times before and she totally, totally knows…

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.

Perfectly unreasonable

Lots of men experience sudden, irrational fears the night before their wedding. Or rational fears, sometimes, too.

Feelings of inferiority are her therapeutic speciality.

Oh, poor thing. Maybe she should drive off to find a chemists’ shop to buy some antihistamine – it’s best to deal with these things early, before the bites become inflamed.

I’ve tried paying for the ‘realistic girlfriend experience’ a few times, but it’s really a waste of money. They often don’t turn up and even if they do, we usually go to a bar or something where they get off with someone else and leave without me.

‘Cos she’s her laaaydeee… and you’re their male.

Erm… that spanking went without a hitch…no. This painting’s a bit kitsch… Oh dear.

Foolish things

As often as she likes, obviously. Which is quite often.

Perhaps her mistress will come to see the advantages in having a male around. Maybe get one herself; I understand they’re very cheap to keep, they needn’t be irritating if they are permanently gagged and after all, she’s got a sub to make sure the nasty thing washes itself frequently.

It’s silly to complain about the taste: I mean, it’s not *her* fault the company that produces the shaving foam makes it so unpleasant, is it? Write them a letter if you’re so upset about it: I’m sure she’d buy you a stamp.

How could anyone be frightened of a sweet, harmless little creature like her?

It was a blonde joke, wasn’t it? ‘How many blonde nurses does it take to change an obnoxious man’s sexist attitudes’… was that it?

Seems a bit easier than the game of “Guess what implement’s next” that my SO likes to play with me strapped down over the whipping bench. I’m rubbish at it: I don’t think I’ve been right once in what must be over 20 tries, even though she gives me a choice between only two each time. No matter what I say, it’s always the other one. That’s odds of 2^20 against… over a million to one! Pretty unlucky… but as she likes to say, meeting her was such a lucky thing for me, I don’t deserve any more luck ever again, and of course I can’t argue with logic like that.

Enigmatic

Yes, just imagine how awful that would be. But don’t imagine too hard, or the spikes might start digging in painfully. Oh – too late? Sorry.

It’s amazing how modern technology can take the drudgery out of life but to a sufficiently determined woman, there’s still plenty of drudgery to be found.

I expect it’ll turn up eventually… and while it’s missing, you might even find out you could have done without it all along. It’s often that way.

Oh dear. And her feet too! Sigh. Scurry.

Don’t be so selfish – or possessive. In fact, it’s probably a good idea to get out of that last habit, now you don’t have possessions.

The more cruelly she treats him

“…and the more faithless she is, the worse she uses him, the more wantonly she plays with him, the less pity she shows him, by so much the more will she increase his desire, be loved, worshipped by him.” The Founder himself said that, in Venus in Furs. He was right, although I don’t suppose Wanda thought any more of him as a result.

She’s trying her best to make this chastity regime work but you at least have to meet her halfway.

Good thing he warned her, or this could turn out to be a lot more painful than he’d expected.

He may be dying a virgin but he can be happy that he’s provided a woman with sexual fulfillment, even if only in his agonised dying moments. So there’s that.

If you think an affectionate little peck on her shoe is embarassing in public, try being slapped in public. Just not doing the kiss should be enough to bring it on.

I’m one of those people who can’t be hypnotised. Some say it’s a willpower thing, but as a sub it’s hard for me to believe that. A few people are just immune and that’s that. Back when I was a smoker, my girlfriend at the time persuaded me to go to a hypnotherapist she knew and the smoking craving was just as strong after the session as before. As it happens I *did* give up smoking soon after, but that was because I couldn’t really afford it, because I suddenly realised, that very evening, that I wanted to start handing over 75% of my income to my girlfriend. So it was just coincidence that it was right after the session with the hypnotist. It was difficult, but I managed to give up the cigarettes, entirely on my own, even though I decided I should be buying a pack daily for her new boyfriend, soon after. Maybe it is willpower, after all.

Pro tip: arguing that you weren’t, in this situation, is a losing proposition.

It’s the song of a merrymaid, peerly proud

Who loved a lord and who laughed aloud
At the moan of the merryman, moping mum
Whose soul was sad and whose glance was glum
Who sipped no sup and who craved no crumb
As he sighed for the love of a la-dy.

I used to wonder how girls could spend so long washing their hair. Then I found out.

Air stewardesses often like to have a sub waiting for them on arrival. After a long flight, they really want someone else serving *them* drinks and food – and if there’ve been any rude, arrogant passengers on the flight it’s still more important to have access to someone on whom to let off a bit of steam.

There are also consequences for remaining silent when she’s asked something, as well as for lying. So it’s all covered, really.

I hope this jokey little caption doesn’t contribute to that hurtful ‘castrating lesbian’ stereotype. Actually, survey data show that lesbians are, if anything, slightly *less* enthusiastic about castrating males than are heterosexual women, although there’s only a few percentage points in it.

Ooh… I hate job interviews. Like, I went to one where the interviewer asked me how I’d react to being slapped across the face and she didn’t even let me finish my answer! I did get the job, as it happens, but frankly that turned out to be a mixed blessing.

Fans of the ‘strict governess’ style of femdom might be interested in skipping to exactly 49 minutes into this 1970s British movie (NB, Russian site if you worry about such things), to reach the section which is about Theresa Berkley, of whipping horse fame. The movie is mostly in that 1970s British sex comedy style (oo-err, Missus, gwarn show us yer knockers!) but this bit is, I think, done quite well as it features the slow scolding build-up and anticipation (a theme I tried to convey in one of my few serious pieces: Waiting). Weirdly enough, although most of the film is knockabout farce, towards the end it takes on the tone of a public information film and features the then living, famous and very serious dominatrix, Monique van Cleef, in a short bit starting at 1:15.45. The 1970s were odd. But then, so are we, aren’t we? Extra trivia: the narrator is Charles Gray, narrator of Rocky Horror (where was his neck?) as well as being the best Blofeld, and Mrs Berkley is Carmen Silvera, who later dominated René in Allo Allo.

Category: lesbians