Category: riding crop

Tender moments

I am in their loyalty programme.  I get to pay more when I book flights, as I accumulate points they demand ever more expensive gifts and on board I am treated with extra contempt.

 

 

I expect you’ll want to evaluate this proposition quite carefully.  I mean, that’s a lot of money to lend someone you barely know, just on the strength of… on the strength of… sorry, what were we talking about?

 

 

 

I can multi-task!  I can flounce and simper, both at the same time. 

 

 

 

 

As story-writers say, don’t tell: show.

 

Oh, I don’t know.  There are advantages.  For one thing, it’s not one of those wildly unrealistic fetishes that’s completely divorced from real life.  For example, I am actually a lazy, worthless and sexually unattractive male, deserving the contempt the women I know barely bother to conceal.  So I can live the dream, so to speak.


 

Graceful brutality

 

 

Funny how many girls make that mistake.


 

 

Sounds like they’ve got some lost time to make up for.

 

 

I remember early in our relationship, my SO ordering me to bring her a whip for my impertinence.  I told her I didn’t think I had said anything impertinent that deserved a whipping and she laughed and said I just had.  It seemed a little unfair to me, but I didn’t want to argue about it and ruin the mood.

 

 

 

I’m afraid it won’t make you taller, though: that’s just one of those myths. I mean, maybe your spine will be longer by an inch or so at most, but since you won’t be able to walk with all the joints in your limbs dislocated, it won’t bring you any real benefits.  

 

Like many Hollywood stars, she keeps her private relationships carefully out of the media’s eye.

 

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.


Stable relationships

 

Maybe when the two of you are married, you can talk to her about being less cruel to poor dumb animals.


Well, she should have been clearer. It took me ages…



No spoilers, now!



Don’t worry, you’ll soon warm up after Lady Sarah arrives.



He only discovered about her fetishes after the marriage.  She has quite a few. The ones not involving inflicting pain on older men are mostly about girlfriends and money.

Graceless, Feckless, Aimless and Pointless

… that’s me.  But also characters in a novel by the divine Stella Gibbons which contains little if any femdom, I’ll admit, although Kate Beckinsale takes a rather firm hand with people in an entirely non-kinky way in the movie.

Now: something nasty from the woodshed.

She’s actually strictly vanilla. Very strictly.




I feel you ought to say something about this.




Oh, I hate mandatory penile minimum rules, don’t you?  It started out just with the nightclubs, and I can understand that, but I took my suit to the dry cleaners the other day, they insisted on a measurement and they wouldn’t take my suit unless I scrubbed and ironed for four hours, just for being four inches below the required minimum length!  It doesn’t seem fair.




Don’t make Mommy use her cattleprod, now!



There are no ‘problems’, only solutions.


One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.

To celebrate Bastille Day, let’s have some more Regency femdom. The tumbrels and republican principles of the Revolution itself do not lend themselves well to the theme (although I always felt a vague kinship with the sans-culottes) but on the other side of the Channel, the natural order was maintained.
 
Of course, these are merely modern ‘takes’ on the period. Fashions in femdom at the time were rather different and would seem strange to us today.  Humiliation play, for example, might involve acting out being introduced at a ball to a duchess and incorrectly addressing her as if she were a mere viscountess, or using the wrong fork for the fish and being gently and gigglingly admonished (or – worse – subjected to a sustained pretence by one’s dinner companions not to have noticed!  Oh, the shame).  A ‘forced bi’ scenario would typically end with some roleplaying the inevitable appearance before local magistrates, followed by branding or even transportation to Australia* for committing unnatural acts.  And of course the gimp suits of the time were made of wool or coarse cloth -unthinkable today but they knew no better.
 
What’s that?  You want me to shut the fuck up and just show you the pictures of hot chicks in empire-line dresses? Oh, OK then.  Sorry.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
* Generally regarded as a hard limit by most scene players today – and indeed very few dommes are even prepared to try it, although I understand Mistress Servalan of Sydney has ocasionally put on demonstrations at BDSM conventions.

Excruciatingly pleasurable

Why bring up painful old memories?  She seems nice… maybe it’s time for a fresh start?
Oddly enough, I never experienced corporal punishment as a child.  My SO says we have to make up for lost time, and she’s probably right.  She usually is.

Why do my dates always end up like this?

 

Traditional country sports went through a bit of a low patch in the years between the Foxhunting (Prohibition) Act and the Sexual Offences (Remedial and Preventative Measures) Act, but they’re now more popular than ever, even though men aren’t allowed to take part.  As riders, I mean.







Oh dear.  She’s right, you know.  I am a very, very bad person. Fortunately, this very evening I am visiting someone to whom I have given a lot of money to beat me for my sins.  So that’s all right.

Speaking with authority



Once when I was in hospital I tried out the ‘just a little prick with a needle’ joke* on one of the nurses. But she just looked confused and said “But I’m the one with the needle.” I did feel a fool.









BDSM’s odd like that. Subs are actually much more interested in exactly how the implement feels than the dommes.  My SO seems to grab any old thing at random sometimes when she wants to hit me – I actually feel that shows a lack of respect, which is lovely, obviously.

Starting with this.

Makes it all worthwhile.

It’s rather an exciting art form, not least because it needs weekly refreshing.


* “I know you are, but what are you going to do with it?”.


Freddie’s back

If you like Contemplating the Divine* then you will certainly have loved Freddie’s Tales.**  You, therefore, like me, will have been devasted when Freddie’s Tales disappeared from one day to the next. Also like me, therefore***, you will be absolutely delighted that Freddie is back, with a new blog and no doubt just raring to produce more of  those fabulous Beetle books.

So get yourself over to Freddie’s new blog. I – hey come back!  I didn’t mean now.  Read the captions below first, moron.  That’s what you came here for, right?  Men… I dunno.



My SO and I have been experimenting with pre-signed suicide notes.  It’s a kind of next-level thing, you know?  Edgy, I know, but it works for us.








I think I can give her 110%.
Sounds like you are actually going to be discussing it… at length.  But not until you’re safely married.
Consent seems to be a theme of this post.  That’s because it’s so important.  My SO always insists that I consent to everything she does to me.
 
Thank goodness they no longer hunt foxes.  That was so cruel.





*  And if you don’t like Contemplating the Divine what the fuck are you doing here? Are you some kind of weird masochist or something?  Freak.

**  Except the Femsub bits, obviously.  One day, I hope young Freddie will meet a lady who will set him right about the suitability of that sort of material.


*** Writing this, I realise how uncannily similar we are, you and I.  We laugh at the same things, cry together – we should get a drink some time, yeah?

I’m just wild about Harry

No, not Archie’s dad.  Her.  I always  have  been.  Rapture!


But no captioned images of the divine Mistress Deborah, I am afraid, as the available ones tend to be fuzzy vid-caps.  Just the usual sort of thing, you know.


But only if you want to, obviously.







The anaestheologist is very skilled in pain management, so there’s no need to worry.
And don’t imagine there’ll be any ankles nakedly on display or anything lewd of that nature!


She’s got some suitable things for you to wear too.
They’re also going to have a little practice the day before, to make sure everything goes smoothly on the big day.  Just on a bit of you that no one will notice.