Category: nurse

It may sound funny but he wasn’t supposed to

“The band was the inspiration for the phrase “Sleeperbloke“, referring to
the disparity between the glamorous singer Wener and the other
frequently ignored members of the band (who tended to be far more
anonymous and stood at the back)”


Quite right too.  On we go.


Oh… the sort of ‘discussion’ in which my contribution is mainly limited to thanks, apologies and tearful pleading.  OK, I’m good at those.





Thank goodness Billy has a loving wife to look after him.



You need to make sure you shave closely every day.  But that’s not so much to ask, is it?



I’m sure she’ll want to hold full and frank discussions thoroughly exploring all of their demands, before thrashing out an agreement.



I’ve tried assuaging my residual Catholic guilt by seeking punishment from dominatrices but for me it just never really works, as I end up having even more sinful thoughts – it’s like a never ending cycle of lust, guilt, penance and shame.  I love it.

Oh… and an extra one.  Being for the benefit of Mr Allen.

Viral captions

So the thing is still out there, doing its thing.  A few more captioned images about the thing.


It seems like it’s been going forever, like the longest ever corner time but without the delicious sense of humiliation.  I suppose it will end eventually, and we creepy freaks can return to abnormality.  One day, perhaps people will even look back on this blog and laugh.  Unlikely, I’ll admit.


For those of you worried I might get ill and die: I have actually been practising social distancing and self isolation since before it was a thing.  Mainly at parties.  Plus, I’m told that to suffer a life-threatening condition, you have to have a life, so I think I’m fine.
























































The thing

You know – the thing that’s going on. That thing.  Here are some hurriedly thrown together captions about the thing.


You see, it’s just like I always say.  Everything is femdom.

Even the thing.




 





So… those are my captions about the thing. Now, as I’m just sitting around at home all day, these days, I’ll just get back to reading the Trip to Matilda’s story on Freddie’s blog. Which I am enjoying a lot, actually.  You might too, who knows? Only one way to find out, isn’t there?

Cries of pain are music for her banquet

A quote, or nearly so, from George Eliot, who shamefully had to pretend to be a man to get published.  What an embarassment that must be, for a woman.  Do you suppose she had to make spelling mistakes, miss deadlines and generally dumb down in correspondence with her publisher, just to appear authetically male?

Still, the quotation is rather a lovely image, isn’t it?  Here are some more.

Her impotence treatment works every time – it’s a remarkable medical breakthrough, actually.
She seems nice. What a shame you’re nothing special.  Better luck in Somalia.

She’s such a sweet person, wouldn’t hurt a fly in real life.  Still: she’ll flog him bloody and then piss on the wounds, because that’s the kind of professional she is. Then go and have dinner with Dave and maybe a cuddle before bed.




Castration manga is actually a great way to interest girls in comic books, because it’s using the medium to speak to issues that concern them as women, you know?  Also: it’s just a lot of fun, obviously.

He was quite fat when they started training him.  Still some way off the target weight of zero that they are aiming for, but he’ll get there.  In fact, he’s going to lose a whole bunch of weight all in one go next Thursday: they just haven’t told him yet.




Fair maidens, faint hearts




I find it’s always easier to tell the truth. The aftermath is sometimes extremely difficult.

I have my pride.  At least, I did. Hang on…it’s got to be here somewhere.

By a curious coincidence, I got the cattle prod for ‘last night’ the very second day of my marriage.
I get quite excited about this sort of thing.
I heard Jason was having an operation so I sent flowers and my best wishes for a full recovery.  Well, you never know, he might.









Heaven-sent

… and very nice too*




All the ways I could be a better husband?  Wow.  I think I’m going to need two days locked in the stocks, at least.



What a lot of fuss, about a routine operation.  You’d think I was the first person whose tonsils she’d removed.  I… hang on… didn’t I have my tonsils out when I was a teenager? 
Oh, don’t worry: I’ll keep looking. I might cry a little, if that’s OK.

She insists on her tea being just the way she likes it. Also the ironing, bed corners, washing up, bookshelves, underwear drawer, bath, breakfast, ornaments, cushions, carpets, gin & tonic, shoes, lawn, floor tiles, nail polish, ….
The splendidly-named Miss Hunter, on whose wall I would love to end up as a trophy.







Many dommes find the things we submissives do disgusting.  That’s why they so enjoy hitting us.





* but if anyone happens to be able to locate the scene in the British sitcom Game On (rather a lovely ‘situation’: sad male failures share flat with goddess) in which Samantha Janus rushes around putting her make-up on to this song, I’d be most grateful.

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.




Goodwill to all women

It’s that very special time of year.  The holly and the ivy… both actually almost as unpleasant-tasting as all the pine needles I have to eat off the floor, but it’s a tradition and I can’t argue with that.


Nothing particularly Christmassy about today’s captions, though – just the usual rubbish.


I’m going to have a go at writing some snip-lit some day.  They say write what you know.


When we engage in medical roleply, my SO likes to use actual medicines.  She gets a friend who works in a hospital to give her stuff that they’re throwing out because it’s near its expiry date.  Says it makes it more realistic.  I don’t suppose there’s any harm in it.

My wife came multiple times on our wedding night, I’m told.



 

She read somewhere that husbands and wives should always agree on financial decisions, so she wanted to make sure he was OK with it first.






The video basically just consists of cut-scenes.  (Sorry, sometimes I can’t help myself)












Repent at leisure

My repentence, her leisure.

I often suffer from pain during my SO’s sexual activity.  Usually in the same room, but not always.  Her reaching orgasm sometimes brings relief from the pain – temporarily at any rate – I’m glad to say.
Visiting a domme can be a very spiritual experience.
Oh well.  No real harm done
 The lovely Divine Mistress Heather, who in real life I am sure always makes sure her slaves get exactly the voltage they need: neither more nor (most certainly) less.
See?  She’s not a vicious, unfeeling sadist at all.  She’s a considerate, empathetic sadist.  They’re the worst.
The one on the back’s quite long. I was told it describes in detail the ways I am blessed.


May the Lady make us truly thankful

‘Squeakity’ indeed!  I’d like to point out that I’m actually speaking perfectly normally, just in a very high pitch and with a lot of hysterical shrieking and pleading.

My SO found out once that I’d taken out a book on lock-picking.  She over-reacted completely – as usual! – and after a long and sometimes difficult evening ‘discussing’ it, I had to take it back the very next day.  The librarian was quite pleased: she said there was a long waiting list for it.  All men.

I’ve occasionally wondered what I’d do with all the money, if I won the lottery. I suppose if it ever actually happened, she’d tell me soon enough, though.

It’s perfectly normal. Don’t worry about a thing: you have a long life ahead of you.
She always finds it quite upsetting when this happens.  She’s actually a very nice person – I don’t know why she stays with him.