prison – Page 4 – Contemplating the divine

Czeching accounts

Some newly arrived slaves fear that a night alone and abandoned in a cold prison cell will be hard to take – but they often find that, actually, when the Ladies arrive the next morning to take them out, they find themselves looking back fondly on the hours of merely being uncomfortable and cold, with a nice strong steel door between themselves and the rest of OWK.

Looks like he’s losing. They always do, oddly enough.

The local hospital is getting a bit fed up, to be honest. I mean, there’s pandemic on: they can’t keep dealing with minor fractures and burns, the whole time.

Of course, you’ll want something to wash it down with. They do have an expert sommelière but actually all of the ladies are ready and only too willing to whip out a funnel and provide some liquid refreshment to their own personal specification.

Some of the ladies love waking up to the cheerful singing of the ‘guests’ working beneath their windows. Others hate it and storm outside furiously, at the slightest sound, to dole out misery to anyone disturbing their precious sleep. But then at OWK, you have to take the rough with… well, you have to take the rough, anyway.

People can be so cruel

Thank goodness.

Some people think that the life of a submissive is to be a mindless automaton, obeying orders with at most a muttered ‘yes, Mistress’. But actually, there’s a lot of thought involved, not to mention worrying and sheer naked terror at possible consequences of thoughtlessness.

Julia? Oh… she can be a bit difficult, but, y’know: I can’t complain.

That’s all right – plenty of time to learn.

Inmates at the prison camp – especially those convicted of sexism and similar offences – might be surprised to learn there are rules forbidding excessively harsh treatment. But there are – and the proof is in the surprisingly high survival rates which are well over 80% for all but the most annoying inmates. Personally I don’t approve of that kind of mollycoddling, but no one cares about my opinion.

It’s always a bit embarrassing for professional educators to meet their students outside the classroom. That goes double for male educators meeting young female students, especially if it’s a hot day and the students’ feet are sweaty.

Agonising and ecstasising

Silly headline, sweet little song,* content is essentially unrelated.

It only gets sadder from here on in, Ma’am. You don’t mind if I call you Ma’am, I hope? Ma’am.

She can wait. Hours, days, weeks. Whatever it takes. And you’re not going anywhere, obviously.

Maybe I’m just trying to demonstrate that I’m not one of those guys who just thinks about his penis the whole time, you know?

It’s cheaper than domme session rates, but only slightly – and much more intense.

Don’t ask her about the bad experience. She’s been able to move on.

* But not as sweet as the one from Butterflies.

And now for something largely similar

Right… ten more years then. The terrible teens begin here. How terrible can they be? Let’s find out, shall we?

He should be thankful. Not for anything in particular – just generally, all the time.

Regrettably, he won’t be perfect for long. She breaks things.

It is a good one. Here’s another: what do you do if you see a blonde undressing, through an open window? Eight years hard labour! Do you get it? Maybe one day you will.

Look at the lovely lady on the right, there. Rightly proud of her work.

‘Something plausibly similar to male genitalia’ is the best some of us can hope for.

Looks like all those caning fantasies are going to come true.

Bad Pookie. Just imagine being close to thinking about disobeying her like that! On second thoughts, don’t imagine it… she wouldn’t approve.

If there was anything she could do to make you feel better, she’d do it – you know that, right?

Anyway, maybe some of the other patrons would like to skip the queue too.

Ooh – the tips of her shoes look just like the inside of my chastity belt! Maybe we could strike up a conversation, now I know we’ve something in common.

And, of course:

Despotic imagery

Wow. My personal best is two and a half. Admittedly, I’ve only tried once.

Swings and roundabouts…

I expect there’ll be laughter and tears as well, to come.

Technically speaking, he’s actually the Right Honourable Pookie, QC. But he doesn’t stand on ceremony, as you can probably tell.*

She’s always taken an interest in young, struggling actors.

* No, this is a different Pookie.

Traditional crop-wielding ladies

Not a problem: premium cat food doesn’t actually taste as nice as the adverts imply. In fact, in tests I understand eight out of ten slaves said they preferred to go hungry than be forced to eat it… but why should anyone care about that?

Which is odd, because women are supposed to be good at empathy.

Having said which, these two – while not exactly exhibiting empathy I’ll admit – are certainly very concerned to ensure fair treatment of all of the prisoners. Which is nice.

She does use him for sex, but only in a facilitative capacity.

And I’m very persuadable. I’ll even pay for it.

Furious feminine

It’s not that ironic. He strongly disapproved of it while it was being done to him, too – more so than ever, if anything.

“We” did, although only only one of us did most of the actual talking, as I recall it.

You might want to refer her to your own ‘FAM’ – that’s ‘Frantic Appeals for Mercy’

The simply divine Mistress Heather. I for one would love to kiss the air above that foot tattoo, and even closer if allowed.

Thank goodness she realised you needed to be locked in chastity too. How awful it would be to be locked in a prison cell for months without any ability to suffer the erotic frisson of enforced chastity at the same time.

She also has a carving knife.

Words of praise

Look at that… she gets to have a mug of rich, steaming coffee… and Raoul’s coming round later, too.

Things just haven’t been the same between us since Humpy Hippo moved in.

If you like Humpy Hippo, then you might also like Mr Floppyears because it’s basically the same caption.

I remember as a child running excitedly to the door to let the District Disciplinary Officer in, while Dad grovelled for mercy at my Mum’s feet. These days you can order a beating on-line, but it’s not the same.

It’s silly to criminalise sexism. Men are better than women at lots of things and it shouldn’t be a crime to say so. Hard labour, for a start: we’re really good at that.

10 Green Bottles?

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.

Boss ladies

I understand in most modern social media platforms it’s just one of the standard tickboxes when you sign up. Of course, you can always choose “Don’t like to say” or “It’s complicated!”

A really skilled domme can plant a billiard ball right up a slave’s anus from the far side of the table.

If it’s any consolation, the male warders are all very nice indeed, as long as the inmates are nice to them.

Love’s often not enough.

When they called the next day, she had a glass of wine and a vibrator ready. You know: just to help her cope with the trauma.