prison – Page 4 – Contemplating the divine

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.

Oppressed desires


When I look at her, something about her gaze reminds me of my SO. And the woman in the picture looks like someone I know, too.

They do such a fine job: still delivering healthcare and anti-rape services to the nation despite all the financial cuts

Remember femdom rule number one: never engage in unsafe activities like really pissing your domme off.

I’ve heard there’s a game called Prison Architect but I’ll bet it doesn’t have as many options as this.

Actually, though, cigarette ash is low-calorie, fat free and even vegan. So it can be a very healthy part of a diet, mixed together with other foodstuffs, which is exactly how I take it.

Misbehaving

I’m sure he’d like to count the days. Unfortunately, they keep the facility on a random sleep-eat-exercise-sleep cycle lasting anything from four to 48 hours, so he’ll have no idea how much time has passed. Which is just as well, because she’s not actually going to be back in six months: that’s just a little white lie to avoid hurting his feelings.

I had this idea because I’m going diving next week. But don’t worry – I’m not being fed to the sharks! It’s all very safe. My SO and I are going with these two lesbian friends of hers, one of whom is going to be my ‘dive buddy’. It’s her job to check my tank has enough air, as well as to ensure the proper amount of lead weights are securely attached around my belt, wrists, ankles and neck. So, yeah: perfectly safe.

It’s good to be a dog.

The pain from the spikes is all about her, too.

I made a similar point to my SO just the other day – wouldn’t it be better some time if I felt sorry of my own accord, instead of her having to make me feel sorry? But after quite a vigorous discussion, I realised what a bad idea it was.