realistic – Contemplating the divine

She knows, she just doesn’t care

Erm, right, thank you, Ma’am.. Miss… Ma’am. Yes… well, you see, it’s like this. I don’t – or at least, let me start another way, erm…well, I’ve been thinking, erm… in my own time, obviously, and, errr… well…

Salmon? What – real fresh salmon? Then how is she ever going to persude him to eat the tin of disgusting, gristly cat food with jelly I saw her get out? I’m not sure she’s thought this through.

What an astonishing plot arc. They’ll win prizes for originality for that, for sure.

Marie’s not really selfish. She was just enjoying herself so much she didn’t think about how much she was leaving for others to play with, that’s all. Don’t judge her harshly.

Don’t worry: these bouts are more about play-acting than real violence. Anyway, I expect the medics can sew it back on; I’m pretty sure she didn’t swallow.

Looks like a nice gentle start to the session… maybe you should try some brattish behaviour, to liven things up?

As the little disclaimer to the left there states, this blog makes no claim whatsoever to realism. Over the years, this has served me quite well as a catch-all excuse, when certain commenters – anonymous or otherwise – point out small inconsistencies, minor plot holes or blatant and wildly implausible attempts to ignore the physical laws of the Universe in one caption or another.

But just for a change (but not for the first time, or the second or even the third), we’re going to be focused on reality in today’s post: the truth about femdom. How it really is. Because that’s reality. Because. That. Happens.

Don’t worry, we’ll be rejoining the unreality-based community in the next post, on Tuesday.

One of my regular dommes agreed instantly, when I asked her for a gentle, slow-paced four-hour boot-worship session, but things got a little difficult when I turned up and she realised I’d hoped she’d be wearing the boots during the whole time.

As long as there’s something soft nearby to break her fall if she topples over, maybe?

Anyway, the bowl doesn’t have to go through the bars, does it, he can just stick his head out and… hmmm… Oh well. Ella can be Kross with me whenever she likes and it’s all good.

Cruella especially has perfected the photographic genre of ‘domme standing in stiletto heels on a hard surface surrounded by muddy countryside – with no clue how she got there or how she’s going to get away.’ It’s a minority interest, obviously.

More a comment on this blog’s approach to images of lesbian joy than the general reality.

Too right. I was watching *Penance and Repentance for the Naughty Nympho Nuns* yesterday evening and they got the words of the catechism completely wrong -spoiled the whole thing for me.

Elegant arrogance

I once told a girl that I was really into sexy lingerie, and I got a full basket – all handwash only! Best date ever.

There’s no right and wrong way to do this sort of thing, of course: her method’s good, too.

My SO obviously has no personal experience of how painful her ‘little toys’ are, but she does like to hear all about it, in as much detail as I can shriek.

I once asked a pro-domme to choose her one favourite fantasy, for our session: whatever she wanted, no holds barred. So we played ‘Pay double and fuck off’, which turned out to be deliciously humiliating.

Trust is very important in a marriage – right up there with obedience.

There’s a tradition that the targets of the winning team get to go out to the winners’ podium with them – well, actually it’s better than that: they get to be the winners’ podium. So you could be in with a chance of participating in the medal ceremony.

Hooray hooray (13b because I lost count)

Inexorable romantics

You know, sometimes I think women use ‘You’re washing my hair that night’ as an excuse, when they don’t want to go out. A bit like “Sorry, I’m just not in the mood to unlock you this month, I’ve got a headache.”

The glamorous life of an OWK Lady. Tomorrow, she’ll be going out for a slow plod around the grounds atop a human pony. Thrilling stuff.

What a bit of luck that she decided to have a meathook fitted, when she moved in.

Don’t worry, she’s very experienced. She’ll know exactly what to do.

And remember it’s a ‘fee’, not ‘tribute’, OK? It’s still going to be a suitably large number, though.

So… do you remember my post a few weeks ago, suggesting that the divine Anya rocks a dominant, fetish fashion look slightly more often than one might expect? Well, of course, the trouble with making that sort of statement is that you just know she’s going to prove you wrong immediately by showing up to every event for the next six months or so in a succession of elegant but disappointingly vanilla outfits. Yeah, that’s definitely what should have happened, by the law of averages, reversion to the mean, all that.

Only to be expected, I’m afraid.

Except she didn’t.

See if, in this picture from Michelle Yeoh’s recent Oscar celebration, you can spot a subtle difference in style between Goddess Anya’s look at and that of… oh all the people there who aren’t Anya, if you can bring yourself to waste any time looking at them.

What’s that? You want to see more of her in the dress? Yes, I expect you would – there are some at this link, others around. You like that sort of thing, being a pervert, right? That’s OK, we’re all perverts here. But be warned, let’s keep those expectations realistic, yeah? We all know what ‘femdom in mainstream’ fashion shots are like. Sadly, even when a glamorous actress puts on some kind of fetishy outfit, she’s still just going to pout for the camera in vanilla style, right? I mean, sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not as if she’s going to be photographed in the kind of haughty dominatrix pose that you and I find exciting, right?

Right?

Oh.

Hmmm.

Painful untruths

I’d offer to get rid of it myself but someone seems accidentally to have secured my wrists to the sides of the bed, here. I’ll have to have a word about that.

She’ll get the hang of it.

One of the riskier fetishes is ‘very pissed-off dominatrix’.

The depressing thing is, as it’s a vanilla porn movie. your being beaten up isn’t even really central to the main action. Try femdom: at least there, the beatings you receive are part of the sexy bit rather than filler.

I’ll just have another nonesome, then. Maybe two.

Still keeping it real

Regular ‘readers’ will know how committed this blog is to absolute realism in every aspect of femdom. I’m the same in session – if I’m going to be dressed up in a little pink maid’s outfit and spanked, I want a coherent and real-world narrative to support it, or it just doesn’t work for me. Here are some hyper-realistic backstories that you might want to suggest to your domme, if you feel the same way.

If you like this sort of thing, you might want to check out this or this. If you don’t then you probably shouldn’t, but there are plenty of other things to do on the Internet, like watch people being nasty to one another while seeking to demonstrate their own superior ethical standards, all in 140 characters, on Twitter. Never really understood the appeal, myself, but it takes all sorts I suppose.

On with this, anyway.

The parts of the dommes so painfully constructing their narrative edifices in this post were played by Lady Sophia Black, Mistress Morrigan Hel, Lady Jessica Wood and Mistress Eleise de Lacy. Plus some others whose names I don’t know.

It’s a sign of devotion

You made everybody else seem so tame.

After a lifetime with a full head of hair, it seems I am finally going bald. Next Tuesday, apparently. She’s invited some friends around to watch.

I hope they play nicely.

A very important part of any session.

Speaking of devotion… this is Lady Sophia Black.

Actually, it is more accurate to describe Sissymaid Sylvia as ‘gender uncertain’ as its Mistress hasn’t come to a final decision on the matter yet.

A dose of unreality

Reality. It’s a tricky concept, one I certainly often struggle with. I used to think that would hold me back in life, but it seems it’s not even a barrier to becoming President of the United States, so what do I know?

Anyway, moving on from feeble political point-scoring , I thought it might be nice for once to cast aside the usual rigorous attention to authenticity and gritty realism on which this blog has built its reputation. No: let’s ditch that obsession with verisimilitude and instead present what might be the first in a new series* : glimpses of ‘Pervworld’ in which the world actually works the way it does in femdom fantasy.

Could it be reality one day, you ask?** Who knows?***