Category: spikes

But you won’t cry, I know

Angry tears are too dear.

She likes it when you say please and thank you, but you need to get used to saying them quickly, because once she starts using alternating hands, it gets pretty fast.
Men need to take responsibility for their own behaviour. His body, his fault.
They say when you’re in a hole it’s best to stop digging… although my experience has always been that if I’m digging a hole I’d better damn well keep digging as fast as I can, until she tells me to stop.
Don’t get your hopes up, she rarely keeps the boys she collects when she’s out.
And if she does finally snap and put you on the leash, for goodness’ sake don’t make her drag you along. It’s not fair to expect her to do all the work in the relationship.
She doesn’t realise what a career boost a photo feature in AFM can provide. Take a look at some of the shots from the magazine I’ve featured here – A-listers, almost all of them.*

* Fans of AFM – yes, there are some, you’re not the weirdest reader of this blog, you know, not by a long chalk – can look forward to a great start to 2025. No spoilers, though.

She’s got it

And she’s quite prepared to use it, so stop arguing and bend over.

There’s obviously no inherent contradiction in describing something as both ‘a traditional costume’ and ‘a spanking dress’. Just ask the ladies or – when they’ve finished standing in the corner – the men of the Czech Republic.
It’s shocking the state some of these railway station toilets get into. Thank goodness there are public-spirited people like her prepared to step up and do something about it.
At least she mentioned it, first. It’s actually quite offensive, the way so many women consider castrated males’ bodies almost to be public property – just reaching out for a little pat without asking permission.
Ironically enough, those discussions tend to be anything but ‘instant’, often going on for hours.
See, that’s a Mars/Venus thing right there. The male naturally focuses on the physical cause of his pain but the woman looks beyond these trivial mechanical explanations for the underlying psychological reason. Like during a beating: it’s not the whip she’s cracking across your back that’s hurting you, it’s your own behaviour.
I have follow-up questions… Let’s hope she doesn’t consider them impertinent – oh, who am I kidding? Let’s hope she does.

Tools of the matriarchy

Fortunately, Sally has come equipped with all manner of pins, pincers and other sharp objects. Wasn’t that lucky?
You asked her if you could hear a little less ‘Julio says’ so here you are – three days when you won’t have to hear that bloody phrase once. Maybe even longer.
Sometimes the trickiest ethical questions in philosophy turn out to have remarkably simple solutions in practice.
Keep quiet and maybe they’ll forget you’re there.
Especially if the person in question were hypothetically restrained and unable to do anything about it, no matter how much he – sorry, they – hypothetically screamed and pleaded?
She’d worry she wasn’t doing it right, if you weren’t crying.

Hot and unbothered

People talk a lot about objectification, but really there’s nothing wrong with getting off on the sight of a lovely pair of eyes going all red and tearful as the soap gets rubbed in.


 

 

If it’s hurting it’s working.

 

 

 

Shhh!



‘Ignoring it’ is something that happens a lot so maybe sterner measures are needed.


She’ll be having enough orgasms for both of you – it’s her generous nature.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tearful conversations

Anybody else want to negotiate?

 

 

 

It’s recreational for her, anyway – although there’s a serious element to it too. 

 

 

 

I wonder what the OWK Ladies would have done, had the wall not come down in 1989 and no Velvet Revolution occurred?  Oh, they’re so talented I am sure they have found some kind of niche within the totalitarian system where their skills could be useful, but it would have been very different.



Just try to think unsexy thoughts while they do it.  Reading this blog should give you some ideas.



Once again, I do have a bit of a gripe here.  I mean, sometimes it’s “I want the truth and I’m going to keep on increasing the voltage until I get it’ and next it’s ‘Keep your nasty little opinions to yourself.’  It just doesn’t always seem entirely fair, is all I’m saying, but I suppose it’s best not to complain.

 

Dressed to oppress

Desires are OK.  You’re welcome to have desires.  But they’re not needs.

 

I don’t feel very masculine.  But then I never do.

 

 

 

 

OK, better humour her. I hope she does actually know the way, though – there’s nothing worse than asking someone on the street for directions, and you get into a conversation and it turns out they don’t really know.

 

 

 

She’s right, but even the saddest, loneliest life can be lit up by Joy.


Actually, she’s wrong about that – you don’t need to learn to control yourself, not now she’s around.


Despotic imagery


Wow.  My personal best is two and a half. Admittedly, I’ve only tried once.



Swings and roundabouts…




I expect there’ll be laughter and tears as well, to come.




Technically speaking, he’s actually the Right Honourable Pookie, QC.  But he doesn’t stand on ceremony, as you can probably tell.*



She’s always taken an interest in young, struggling actors.



* No, this is a different Pookie.

Harsh sentences




 The ureasonable thing would be to tolerate disobedience, surely?

They might put on a lesbian show for you, if you’re lucky.
He gets to eat the grape first. Yum.









Dommes and their pets.  I visited a pro-domme once and I got a scary thrill when she asked if I could pick up a tin of catfood on the way.  But it just turned out to be for her cat!  Slaves get dogfood; it’s less fatty apparently although it has always seemed pretty fatty to me.  Anyway, I’m sure Fluffles gets a healthy diet.
Oooh – looks like someone’s going to try switch play!  He shouldn’t worry, though: she’s only planning to switch roles once.

Ooh!

It’s as far as I can take it.


Do you think you could ask him to slow down for just a moment while I write the captions under the pictures? No?  OK, well, I’ll do my – ouch, that was a deep one! – I’ll do my best. 



Sounds like someone’s having a bad day.  Who’d have thought being sissy maid to a sadistic perfectionist would be so difficult?
Trick question.  You need a lot more and she’s waiting for you to tell her that.  It’s a Mars/Venus thing, just go with it.

Her sister rebelled against the whole female supremacy thing.  Lives with a guy in Brighton and she lets him have his own pocket money and she even helps out occasionally with the housework.  Still, each to their own.


What a very sharp observation.


Heaven-sent

… and very nice too*




All the ways I could be a better husband?  Wow.  I think I’m going to need two days locked in the stocks, at least.



What a lot of fuss, about a routine operation.  You’d think I was the first person whose tonsils she’d removed.  I… hang on… didn’t I have my tonsils out when I was a teenager? 
Oh, don’t worry: I’ll keep looking. I might cry a little, if that’s OK.

She insists on her tea being just the way she likes it. Also the ironing, bed corners, washing up, bookshelves, underwear drawer, bath, breakfast, ornaments, cushions, carpets, gin & tonic, shoes, lawn, floor tiles, nail polish, ….
The splendidly-named Miss Hunter, on whose wall I would love to end up as a trophy.







Many dommes find the things we submissives do disgusting.  That’s why they so enjoy hitting us.





* but if anyone happens to be able to locate the scene in the British sitcom Game On (rather a lovely ‘situation’: sad male failures share flat with goddess) in which Samantha Janus rushes around putting her make-up on to this song, I’d be most grateful.

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