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.

Far and wide of the mark

Regular ‘readers’ of this blog who actually bother to look at the words, instead of just beating off to the pictures of pretty ladies looking stern, will realise that much of its ‘humour’ is inspired by the style of Gary Larson’s cartoon The Far Side.

Where ‘inspired’ in this context means “a pathetic and embarassing attempt to publish femdom porn in a manner that is spuriously justified”

This week’s ‘special’ (no, not your monthly ‘special’, you have to ask Mistress for that) is a collection of captions that are particularly blatant rip-offs of close homages to that style. Without, obviously, either (a) infringing anyone’s intellectual property rights or (b) being funny.

Enjoy. Or don’t. I get paid just as much either way.

So chic so fine you all look so divine

I do my best thinking in the corner. Sadly, it’s still not very good.
Reminds me of my SO, who has a real phobia about germs. If there are any streaks left in the toilet bowl, she calls me to lick them away immediately. Hygiene’s so important to good health, after all.
Apparently, many men find female sexual fantasy hard to accept – but as long as you’re tied tightly enough, you’ll accept whatever’s going on, I say.
Yeah, it’s weird: from a very early age I had no interest in playing with toy hammers or saws but show me a mop or a dishcloth and I’d be away. I used to play in the girls’ household corner at nursery school (kindergarten to you, most likely). Well… I used to clean up their mess after class, actually, but it was play for me.
Of course in reality she’s speaking in Czech and he ain’t from round there so I’m afraid he’s not getting much of this. He has picked up a few words already in his stay, but all he’s hearing is “—- flogging —- punishment —– ball-kicking —-“. Fortunately the OWK ladies have other ways of making themselves understood.
So if he’s already had gay sex eleven times, that implies a gay/straight ratio over the course of his life of… well: infinity.

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling

With grovelling apologies to anyone with even the slightest taste, it’s a special OWK poetry day! You see, I – no, come back! Really, it’s not that bad, and anyway at least there are pictures of –

Hello?

Anyone still here?

Oh well, just you and me, then. OWK poetry, anyway, all based on the kind of traditional British canon I learnt (but perhaps suprisingly given my interests did not actually have beaten into me) at school. More difficult than it looks, even done this badly, especially as there is essentially no one-word rhyme in English for ‘kingdom’, or for that matter ‘Owk’.

Just in case any of you are interested, puzzled or just entirely short of better things to do sitting there, as you are, in front of a computer with your trousers down around your ankles, the actual poems these are mangled from are, in order:

  1. How do I love thee?
  2. Jabberwocky
  3. The Tyger
  4. The Waste Land
  5. Elegy written in a country churchyard
  6. To his coy Mistress

Love not given lightly

There’s no excuse for that kind of blatant rebellion; I hope she deals firmly with it.
I always get embarassed in these situations – when you’re with someone and she starts talking to someone else and you’re kind of there, but also not really in the conversation, you know? You can try nuzzling her shoes, or something, to remind her you’re there too, but it’s still usually a bit awkward.
OWK being OWK, of course, the used wax strips covered in this animal’s fur will then be stirred into the slops for the next feeding time in the Queen’s Prison.
Pink? Pink? Well what’s wrong with pink?
She always feels it’s best to be businesslike, rather than sentimental, when breaking off a relationship.
She wants you to have an orgasm, but you’re not making it easy for her.

Days of their lives

The OWK ladies once more reminisce to a fictional (but enviable) interviewer, about the best of the best of days. In fact, they reminisce at great length, at least in comparison to the space available for an ordinary caption…

Perhaps one day I’ll post the transcript of the whole interview here, if I ever get round to making it up.

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope

So true. Martin Luther King said that and if I’m honest (I’m not, in general – see the disclaimer to the side of the blog, there), he was probably talking about something other than femdom chastity regimes. But you never know.

You did bring the Travel Scrabble, right?

This is the lovely Little Caprice, most of whose oeuvre is unsuitable for viewing by the omega-males who read this blog (and I had to crop the image above to make it suitable) so don’t go googling her, OK?

One of the great joys of teaching is helping the pupils come to realise that they can achieve anything they set their minds to, if they are determined enough.
Don’t worry about being late, I’m sure they’ll be very understanding. Just get in there and do what you came to do.
I read somewhere that one of the many Femsuprem parties now contending for power intends to require all locksmiths to register their businesses and to log all requests for replacement keys in a central database. Seems a bit draconian, but then so, I suppose, are the plans to send sexists to prison camps staffed by whip-wielding guardresses in tight-fitting leather uniforms. And no one’s complaining about that…. no one who matters, anyway.
Of course, if she does actually want you to suffer, that might be counter-productive, but I suppose it’s worth a go.
He found life a bit difficult, after the OWK closed down, I heard. But he wouldn’t change a thing, if he had it all to do it again.

Motivational speech

He’ll have a very clear understanding of who she is by the end of the session.
Anyway, even if people did recognise you, no one’s going to say anything. That’s the nice thing about the Internet: it’s such a trustworthy, forgiving place.
Oh, I’m sure things will improve, she just needs to keep trying. And that’s exactly what she’s planning to do. Anyway, Mario’s waiting so off you go.
I think it’s wonderful that his wife isn’t giving up on him and walking away, but some people are just amazing, aren’t they? I hope she’s finding some time for herself, at least.
As a professional, she can keep the personal clearly separate. For instance, the fact that she finds you contemptible is in no way going to diminish the zeal with which she’ll fight your corner in court. Just don’t expect miracles, yeah?
Nothing worse than a micro-manager, is there? Unless it’s a sadistic micro-manager holding a whip, I suppose.

Fishers of men

… but don’t worry: they are mostly doing it for sport. After hooking you and letting you wriggle and gasp for a while, they’ll usually just unhook you and throw you right back where you were.

This lady’s not planning to go fishing. She’s already caught enough for her immediate needs.
Actually, that’s not quite correct. The relationship is working for Trevor… and will do, right up to the end.
He’s looking forward to a harmonious married life, in which the housework is done with a perky smile, there’s no nonsense about taking financial decisions together and every comfort and care of the Head of Household is attended to. So’s she.
Fortunately, if she does decide to sell them anyway, even in their distressingly clean state, online purchasers of used panties rarely if ever complain to Trading Standards authorities.
You can actually communicate even quite complex concepts eventually in ‘bimbo’ speech mode, but you might have to suck a lot of cock on the way.
That’s actually something you have to ask for specifically, at the OWK. But he shouldn’t hold back. Most of the Ladies will be perfectly happy to deal with any guest who wants to have sex with them and some of them might even invite other Ladies to join in the fun.
Verified by MonsterInsights