slave – Page 4 – Contemplating the divine

Think of all the fun I’ve missed

Oh, you can wait, surely? So selfish…

Males often don’t listen properly to women. The best thing, I find, when discussing something important, is to concentrate 100% on listening, not speaking. That way, there’s less danger of a painful misunderstanding.

Accessorise!

I wouldn’t say ‘peaked’ exactly. It continued to rise for a bit, then fell off a cliff, so to speak.

Christmas Special tomorrow on Contemplating the Divine! What’s special about it? Oh, well – the captions are all about Christmas! Like this one, y’know… not that special, I suppose. But then who among us is, apart from the ladies obviously?

Oppressive unreality

That seems very fair. In the early days of our marriage my SO would occasionally let me vote on things, although of course she had the tiebreaking vote in case of a 1-1 outcome. It made me feel empowered and valued, which is presumably why she stopped doing it.

No mother-in-law jokes, please – she has many sterling qualities (firmness, willpower, attention to detail) but unfortunately ‘a sense of humour’ is not one of them.

Fortunately, there are plenty of male disciplinary jobs in the new Matriarchy for former sex-workers – oddly enough, it’s the vanilla ones who’ve been most enthusiastic about it.

Don’t worry: Mistress won’t let her hurt you without good cause.

And if you did mind, it really wouldn’t matter.

Lady drivers

What sixth sense is it that tells me that when Cindy finally gets the rock of her dreams, she’s going to want it put right back where it came from?

It’s her way of coping with grief. Don’t worry, she got plenty of cock on the second night of her marriage, though.

You know you’re going to be in good hands.

He was right about one thing: one minute did indeed turn out to be more than was really needed.

If you’re wondering how she intends to tackle the awesome responsibility of deciding who stays and who ends up in the bin-liner, she – oh, she already decided apparently. But I’m sure she gave it a lot of thought – you know, just very quickly.

Slavish desires

Don’t worry too much about it: I’ve often noticed the women in my life using ‘if’ when they really mean ‘when’. ‘If’ I decide to punish you… if I bring a guy home… if you fuck this up again… and so on.

They should be more charitable towards her, even if she does have some odd ideas. After all, she’s a grieving widow, the poor thing.

It was maybe considering a little pleading whimper, but it won’t even try, now.

Medical researchers have made huge strides in pain management in recent years, as her husband will soon discover.

Abandoned gimps seem to be everywhere these days, it’s a modern plague. Fortunately, very few people care.

Dumb hearts get broken

I just hate feeling useless…

Actually, the little hole can be opened up wider. But not for food.

Pookles is beginning to wonder whether he should put his foot down in this relationship. Or just throw himself on the floor and scream uncontrollably.

Don’t try to understand women’s sexuality. It’s more complex and subtle than the male variety.

Maybe she’ll let you kiss her feet afterwards, before dragging yourself from her presence.

And a little bit of found femdom for you. This is the webcomic Fluffy Bunny, which seems to be quite old but I had not encountered before. Mostly it’s a bit too cute for my tastes, but I did like this one:

Sing when she’s winning

Scurry scurry scurry!

Much like his response to the question the priest will be asking him a little later.

I’ve occasionally asked my SO whether she’d consider putting me on obedience pills but weirdly she says she prefers an occasional bit of disobedience. Which is odd, because she always seems so cross about it… women, eh?

Even if he sued her and won, there’d be the question of damages and I think any competent (i.e. female) lawyer would advise that those would be derisory and purely token, at best.

It’s all part of growing up.

Pictures of attractive young women saying vaguely threatening things

Just trying out a more literal approach to naming these posts. I have to say, though, I reckon “Attractive young women saying vaguely threatening things” would make a great name for a band.

My muscles are relaxed. The rest of me is suddenly feeling strangely tense.

Romantic moment ahead! No spoilers, but let’s just say this turned out to be the turning point in their relationship. This is when it became serious… really serious.

Don’t worry: she’ll make sure he drinks plenty of liquids too.

Oh, OK. Plenty of time then. She’s not planning to turn it any further until after tea.

I don’t know about you but I just seem to be constantly charging appliances. If it’s not the phone, it’s the shock collar, if it’s not the shock collar it’s the cattle prod. I’m sure life was simpler in the old days. Even on our wedding night… turned out I was supposed to have charged up her vibrator. She wasn’t pleased, I can tell you.

Scream queens

I quite often get scared in session, but I wouldn’t call any of that a ‘phobia’, as such. Phobias are irrational fears.

Probably best if they never find out. They’re so sweet and innocent, long may they stay that way.

People like her contribute to the unfair stereotyping of the BDSM community. You should say something – when you’ve got your breath back, obviously.

I don’t think it bothers her.

French capital punishment scenarios require some quite specialised equipment (although easy enough for any domme with slaves with carpentry skills). Anyone wanting to try out American cap-pun play is going to need something to step up the voltage. Ordinary electricity’s not quite enough to kill, even in Europe. I mean, it works eventually, but if the client’s only paid for a couple of hours, the domme’s at risk of the scenario not working out.

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.