Category: slavery

I’ll get some nuts

Is this femdom?  Works for me.  But then, like at least 80% of the male British population, I adore Olivia Coleman.


 

But I’ve only got one – after that thing with Angie last week. Oh… go on then.
It’s actually a grotesque stereotype that gay men molest straight men in public lavatories.  Also, most gay men aren’t attracted to guys in little maids’ dresses.  So: you’re safe on two counts. But you can have the butt-plug if you want to be sure.  Or if she decides it might look funny.

You need to be careful online, though.  My SO once took up what She thought was an offer of a fit young 22 year-old guy and She found Herself the owner of this rather unattractive 52 year-old.  She was quite cross with him for lying like that, so of course when She later tried to get rid of him , he was badly damaged and She ended up having to send him to landfill.  I’m not saying people shouldn’t sell themselves into slavery online, obviously, but they need to take some care, that’s all.

That’ll be two us without a choice in the matter, then. I wonder who does decide these things?


There’s nothing so relaxing as knowing you can scream and thrash hysterically in fear and pain as much as you like.  Time to hand over control.


For who would bear the whips and scorns?

I once checked on a date-rating site after an evening with a very lovely lady and discovered she’d rated me lower than her vibrator.  Which I wouldn’t mind so much, if that was the rating for sex but that was under ‘personality’.
She’s an expert negotiator.
Warning: the value of investment bankers can go down as well as up.
There’s also ‘maidspreading’.  That’s when you stand with your legs held firmly apart with a spreader bar. It’s usually a precursor to something rather painful.
You’d think they’d have guessed from the spreader gag.


You know I work all day to get you money to buy you things

… and it’s worth it.

They still holiday in the same place, and go down to the lake to the pier and occasionally she pushes him in for old times’ sake.  It’s not always at the same time of year but it still has the same magic.  Last February the ice was so thick it didn’t break when he fell on it – so much for global warming, huh?


Some men find it annoying and restrictive having to wear a shock collar, but really – it’s ten minutes sitting plugged in by the wall most days… maybe 15 minutes at most after a lot of use?  Then you’re fully charged and can get on with your life in whatever way takes her fancy.  It just takes a little planning that’s all.

Many men get excited at the thought of watching passionate lesbian sex, but believe me after a few years you kinda start to feel a bit jealous?  Silly, I know…

 

Apparently
she’s having the schoolroom fitted out already.  If she’s not even
pregnant yet, I have to say that seems a little premature.




As I’ve always said: there’s no job a woman can do that a man can’t do too.  Just more slowly, not as well and with someone of a superior gender in charge to make sure he doesn’t fuck it up.  Which, admittedly, doesn’t work too well when flying a plane.  But Billy can have his dreams – then he’ll grow up, meet a nice girl who’ll sweep him off his feet and he’ll settle down as a happy househusband, I expect.

Misbehaving



I’m sure he’d like to count the days.  Unfortunately, they keep the facility on a random sleep-eat-exercise-sleep cycle lasting anything from four to 48 hours, so he’ll have no idea how much time has passed.  Which is just as well, because she’s not actually going to be back in six months: that’s just a little white lie to avoid hurting his feelings.






I had this idea because I’m going diving next week.  But don’t worry – I’m not being fed to the sharks!  It’s all very safe.  My SO and I are going with these two lesbian friends of hers, one of whom is going to be my ‘dive buddy’.  It’s her job to check my tank has enough air, as well as to ensure the proper amount of lead weights are securely attached around my belt, wrists, ankles and neck.  So, yeah: perfectly safe.






It’s good to be a dog.






The pain from the spikes is all about her, too.








I made a similar point to my SO just the other day – wouldn’t it be better some time if I felt sorry of my own accord, instead of her having to make me feel sorry?  But after quite a vigorous discussion, I realised what a bad idea it was.


A pretty face may be enough to catch a man, but it takes character and good nature to hold him.

The title quote, of course, is from Sir Thomas More’s Utopia.  But you knew that, right?  You’re an educated, sophisticated man of the world, who knows that the capital of Gabon is Libreville, can calculate complex sums quickly and accurately and understands the main principles of the annealing process in glass manufacture.  You just pretend to be an ignorant schoolboy who doesn’t even know that the capital of Australia is Sydney.*


Apparently, I have ‘kick-me testicles’. I never even knew that was a thing, but there you go.


Actually, I get quite a lot of normal healthy sex in my current relationship – maybe a bit rough, but really just your basic penetrative sex, fellatio… that kind of thing.  Several of Her favourite boyfriends are bisexual, so I get a lot of action.  I have to say, I prefer perversion, on balance.

And ‘cum-bucket’ isn’t even a word, so in a sense the question of spelling doesn’t even arise.
Her bedroom wall is covered with hunting trophies.






It is, right? I mean, better than nothing. You’re enjoying yourself, yeah?  I’m afraid this is the last caption today, so you’d better finish now.. that’s right.  Up and down, up and down.  Tugtugtug? A bit more – there! Excellent.  And… just get the last out, there… great. See you on Friday!





* Yes, I know.  It’s a joke.  If you don’t get it, maybe it’s my fault for being too obscure. Or if you’re a humiliation slut**, maybe it’s your fault for being such a moron, hmm? Too stupid to actually wank and think at the same time, are we? Gosh… a small cock and a tiny intellect – didn’t exactly win the first prize in life, did you? Try one of those blogs featured on Tiresome Tropes, instead, lamebrain, maybe it’s more your level.


** If you’re not a humiliation slut, I don’t recommend reading the rest of the comment above.

When sorry is the hardest word to shriek




It’s not really ‘permanent’ damage anyway, is it?  I mean, not permanent permanent.  Just to the end of the boy’s life, which is obviously less for the older, over-25 models. Quite a lot less, in some cases.

I’m sure she’ll let them know when she’s good and ready.

Masturbating while looking at pictures of her on the Internet definitely puts you on her fail list too. Sorry.
Hmm… Haven’t heard anything about kissing the bride, yet. Perhaps that’s the surprise she has in mind.
Unfortunately, the thing I’m best at is quaking in fear.  And she doesn’t seem to want that.  Not for this role, anyway.


Try to see it Her way

…only time will tell if She is right or you are wrong.

Not do a good job at ‘good vigorous vanilla sex’?  Little chance of that, I can assure you!  Prepare for the best eleven seconds of your life, baby!




She later sold the house… said it contained too many memories.

If this blog is still going in three years, I guess this isn’t really going to work.

Looks like everyone’s having a slow, lazy afternoon.

She actually found it quite traumatic to watch, as she did the three she watched later on in the holiday.  But she bought the souvenir DVD anyway.

Speaking of holiday – I’m going off on one, fnarr fnarr.  So, usual CtD summer: with slightly faded but unused old captions published on a daily basis with minimal fuss.  Watch this space… but don’t forget to refresh your screen, or it’ll be a long dull summer for you.



Respect cannot be earned

It can only be taught.  Something like that, anyway.  Now, more of this.


I’d ‘freely consent’, wouldn’t you?  Well… I mean, I would if I were free, obviously.

I’ll just try to hold it in, I think.  You wouldn’t believe how much fuss Travis makes when I ask him to do that. 

Later on, she started having twice-weekly sessions with her tennis instructor, ironically enough.
With this ring, I thee enslave.

Wow.  You could almost believe she actually intends to do it, huh?  Yum.


Ladies who leash





Seven days in already, so counting down the  days from 21 that’s only 14 to go? Or 83 if it’s 90.  Whatever.

Oh, I think – with all due respect – Madame Sarka is being unduly harsh on English, here.  But then, she’s really good at being unduly harsh.

Actually, the taste depends a lot more on what it had to eat a few hours earlier.

Sometimes she fills the bag with ice, so as he’s sweating in the heat there, he gets some lovely cool drips of water. Usually, though, she doesn’t.

I’m not worried. Just terrified.


Contemplating the Devine

Impressively, one of the top search terms from visitors to this blog is a spelling mistake.  So this is a special post to celebrate the tens of thousands of pageviews by ‘readers’ who cannot spell the word ‘divine’. 

Welcome, guys (I think we can safely assume the gender balance of this particular sample swings heavily male). Just thought I should give you a shout out…you’ve been slowly typing the wrong word into Google for so many years now.  Yay!  Morons.


I’m aware of course that many of my ‘readers’ may not be native English speakers, so calling these people morons is unnecessarily insulting and might not be entirely fair.  But – DUH! – this is a blog for males who enjoy being unnecesarily insulted and treated unfairly – remember?  Morons.

Hey, guys, you know you should try booking a schoolboy session with one of those severe English schoolteacher dommes some time?  You’d be really good at it. Take some cold cream for the journey home.  


On with the devine imiges…



Oooh!  ‘Not as bad as it just conceivably might have been’?  Wow, that’s the nicest thing any woman’s ever said to me after sex.  Usually, they just say something along the lines of “Sorry – would you mind moving a bit further down the carriage?”. which I find very hurtful.






Males don’t really need lobotomies, truth be told.  Still, if it makes the little woman happy, you might as well let her have her way, hmm?


In the end, she just went for a more direct approach.

Yum.

Whimper.