safewords – Contemplating the divine

Unethical statements

Both, probably.

She’ll have to break me first…. eeek!

Yes, doing the little dance routine should definitely help with the feeling of humiliation.

I’m never sure whether I prefer sand or seaweed for my punishment meals when we’re at the beach. Not that I actually get to choose, of course.

No harm done. Sissy didn’t need those knees.

Girl talk

Boy silent. Nodding is permitted.

Has it really? Goodness, it’s so easy to lose track of time. It feels like it was only yesterday.

Forgive it magnanimously? No? Oh well.

Dommes undertaking electrical play should ensure that some thick non-conducting material is in constant contact with any electrodes. Males work fine.

It’s not a very big tube but it’s just large enough.

Funny how failures to communicate always involve me misunderstanding her and never the other way around. Of course, the fact that I’m rarely allowed to speak could be a contributing factor.

Not necessarily a British cultural reference, merely a description of what I do while my SO takes a couple of minutes’ break to make herself a cup of tea.

Still, for those of you in the know, it was one of the better ones. “We’re the police – or layabouts”. And of course Fenella Fielding. I certainly don’t mind if she smokes.

And speaking of being British… I mean, this isn’t a political blog, you come here to get away from all that stuff, but…. but… but… what the fuck? Really! Huh? I mean, what the fucking fuck? Look at this mess! How can anybody seriously think men should have the vote?

Rant over. Let’s have something decent, sensible and sadistic…

Actually, I find binocular vision quite useful for ironing pleated skirts, but that’s not a huge part of my life – three, four hours a week tops – so I suppose she might as well go ahead.

What a scare! Thank goodness you were there to call the ambulance, as soon as she collapsed. You did have to move out of the corner without permission, though, so obviously that’ll have to be dealt with, when she’s back on her feet. Still: she’s getting the best possible care, and you’re scrubbing out toilets, so everything’s OK.

I used to have a problem with premature ejaculation, but it’s under control now. Matter of fact, last month I was even a few days late – she was on a business trip.

Don’t worry – they have separate fire drills when they practise evacuating the slaves. Particularly between November and February.

Actually, I once went out with someone whose Mum had worked as a cleaner all her life. When I finally plucked up the courage to tell her that I get my rocks off mincing around in a little maid dress pretending to be forced into humiliating cleaning tasks, she was a little offended at first. But we talked it through – and when I said she could tie me to a bench and beat me, she decided she was OK to give it a go after all. And do you know, she had a really good time? And there I thought she was pure vanilla! I’ve never had a session partner be so… enthusiastic. Even made me sign a little piece of paper promising not to have her arrested for assault, before letting me up and walking out of my life forever.

Nonsensual BDSM

Of course, it’s more effective to kill mens’ lib off with kindness and reasoned argument. But not nearly as much fun.

I suppose a blowjob is out of the question? You might as well ask… it couldn’t hurt.

Thank goodness she gave you a safeword. OK, she’s gagged you and also forgotten it. But I think that demonstrates her commitment to responsible play.

Oh, nobody still beats her own husband in this day and age do they?

Goodness, what a long one, as no one in the history of the planet has ever said to me.

Impertinence

Well, that doesn’t seem very fair. I mean, does Andrew have to ask my permission when he comes in and puts his big muddy boots up on my nice clean chairs? I think not.