rhymes with witch – Page 2 – Contemplating the divine

Back in harness

So, here we are. Back from my fabulous tour of the Greek islands. Well… I assume we toured the Greek islands. There aren’t actually any windows in the middle galley deck of a trireme, so I am not quite sure, but we definitely went from one place to another, sometimes quite fast. We had some lovely tour guides, who encouraged us along, while this big bald guy played a drum (somewhat repetitively in my view, but even the most sophisticated musical talent has to begin somewhere I suppose). These tour guides didn’t speak any English, but they managed to get their message across quite effectively.

I hope you all had a good time while I was gone. Back to normal, as from today.

I quite liked this one. Why should safewords only work in one direction?

If I got the chance, that is.

I hope she realises that we submissives need to stick together.

There are many words that sound like bitch. Very few that sound like cattle prod. Or feel like one.

Indeed we don’t. Not after the last time.

I’m gonna give you some terrible thrills

Like a…

Earth… it’s like a drive-in burger bar for hungry space travellers.

My signalling organ is permanently set to ‘silent mode’.

Not going to work – you need to use an internationally recognised safeword as established by the Geneva Convention. In Esperanto.

I’m sure he’d like to apologise to her and to women in general, for the thoughtless behaviour that got him into his mess. Trouble is, that mouth’s not really built for speaking. Plus, everyone he’s going to meet from now on is likely to be a man.

What do you mean, it’s not science fiction? This is your future.

Bring me to my knees

Mistress Chrissie always does.

Witchcraft? Oh what nonsens

Apparently, they’ve just discovered a new treatment that prevents testicular cancer altogether. My SO has arranged for me to have it next week – wasn’t that thoughtful of her?

Could be the solution to our over-stretched prison service. I happen to know several ladies in London who own cells, cages and suchlike – they should get in touch with the Home Office, offer to help out.

She does extras. Tip her enough and she’ll even fake laughing at your jokes.

She’s making mushroom surprise.

I stand, corrected

Every Sunday from 2pm to 4pm, and usually once or twice during the week as well.

It’s a shame, but if Beth’s not prepared to put in the effort of whipping him to get the house the way it should be, she just has to go.

Of course, she can do it herself. But it’s good to have a really thorough going-over by a professional every so often too, don’t you think?

And even if you weren’t thinking it then, you certainly thought it when she mentioned it, didn’t you? So – no excuses.

They say the first four hours are the worst. They’re wrong.

Dommes. Not always easy to please. But then, that’s not why we visit them.

Adult content warning

Persons proceeding past this point will encounter no genuinely adult content whatsoever, merely juvenile humour and sexual innuendo written by someone with the emotional intelligence of a teenager. You have been warned.

Let’s hope he enjoyed wishes 1 and 2.

Not very politically correct. Perhaps I need to be politically corrected.

Don’t worry, she’ll give him a 10% discount for all those extra hours.

These gender roles are essentially all social constructs anyway. Why should we have to conform to a role because of what sex we are? What if I choose not to do the housework, hmm? Well… I get tied across a chair and thrashed, obviously. But I could if I wanted to.. and didn’t mind the beating. That’s the point.

Self-harming is such a waste. When there are people out there who’d love to do it for you.

Commanding respect

Or the one before that.

I like to leave these details to my wife too. She’s better at that sort of thing.

Return of an old friend.

On the plus side, they do get lots of great shots of dommes looking really pissed-off. On the minus, a lot of expensive cameras have been smashed. Oh – and the photographer’s been hospitalised once or twice too.

Kind of a once-in-a-lifetime experience, huh?

Leashed to a frenzy

It’s nearly time for your next session anyway. Might as well just stay.

She loves him really.

Won’t be saying that again. Or anything else, I imagine.

Poor thing. Still another 20 minutes of the session to go. Her hand must be so sore.

I wonder what she does with them all? It’s only a small apartment.

But when you are tied to your mother’s apron…

As I’d love to be…still, this blog talks about castration anyway. Quite a lot, actually.

Sometimes, they are even the same aspect of the same place.

That’s a relief. It would be a bit embarassing to have had to reply “a small cupboard” to any questions about where you spent your honeymoon. And you know her rule about always telling the truth.

Oh, OK. Maybe we’re not talking about castration today, after all. Maybe we’re not talking about anything.

I suspect ‘we’ will.

I hope so too.