spurious literary references – Contemplating the divine

Spoken for

She’s already apologised to her sister on your behalf, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be going round to her place to apologise directly, too – and offer to make amends, of course.

Must be terrifying being tiny. Good thing there are big strong girls like her around to look after you.

Understandable that he wants to make sure, given that the two of them will be working so closely together every day, but sometimes a candidate arrives at an interview and just makes such a strong impression from the start that you know she’s going to get the job.

That’s the divine Heather, being contemplated in the scene above.

Many people don’t realise that in English, like very gendered languages such as Japanese, there are words that women can use that men cannot. But there are.

Sometimes an unexpected, spur-of-the-moment session can be best. One time, for instance, I was walking home late at night and clumsily bumped into one of a group of girls. Given no time to apologise properly, I was beaten up, kicked repeatedly in the balls and face, robbed, spat on and left penniless lying in a side-alley. When you think of all the emails and careful arrangements you’d need to do that with a pro-domme….

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling

With grovelling apologies to anyone with even the slightest taste, it’s a special OWK poetry day! You see, I – no, come back! Really, it’s not that bad, and anyway at least there are pictures of –

Hello?

Anyone still here?

Oh well, just you and me, then. OWK poetry, anyway, all based on the kind of traditional British canon I learnt (but perhaps suprisingly given my interests did not actually have beaten into me) at school. More difficult than it looks, even done this badly, especially as there is essentially no one-word rhyme in English for ‘kingdom’, or for that matter ‘Owk’.

Just in case any of you are interested, puzzled or just entirely short of better things to do sitting there, as you are, in front of a computer with your trousers down around your ankles, the actual poems these are mangled from are, in order:

How do I love thee?
Jabberwocky
The Tyger
The Waste Land
Elegy written in a country churchyard
To his coy Mistress

It isn’t what we say or think that defines us, but what we do

You will, of course, have recognised the title from the divine Jane’s Sense and Sensibility and thus have girded your loins (or had someone else firmly gird them for you) for another chapter of this blog’s longest running theme: period femdom. Like period drama you see, only…

What? No, not that kind of ‘period’. Pervert.

Anyway, here come the hot chicks in empire-line dresses, bustles, cropped bodices and suchlike.

They needn’t worry. The spirit of Chrstian mercy burns fiercely in their Aunt’s breast and she would greatly prefer to see the lad thrashed – several times, ideally – and retained in her service.

In the last county fair, the whippiness and suppleness of the birches produced on her estate received high praise.

As Marx tells us, social relations will be revolutionised by technological and economic developments. Yes, industrialisation may regrettably make slavery obsolete, but it will bring in new possibilities too. Electric cattle prods, for instance: unknown in pre-industrial society but today it is hard to imagine married life without them.

I have made a careful study of the good Baron’s oeuvre and may yet publish a scholarly monograph on it. Sadly, some of the pages in my only copy of his greatest work have become stuck together, so publication will have to wait.

To Sally’s disappointment, he describes nothing of the lives of the women of this exotic tribe and how they manage, left to their own devices without men. She takes a keen interest in that kind of thing. Perhaps when or if he writes another letter, she’ll learn more.

Don’t imagine that in saying ‘I’m sure you received worse thrashings in school’, she is merely speculating. She takes a keen interest in boys’ education and is on the board of governors of three local charity schools, so she is very well acquainted with the topic.

I sat down and wrote the best words I could write

Turn, turn again again.

Yes, another one of those turning points.

Dressed to oppress

Pookie’s thoughts are mostly elsewhere, to be honest. Which is just as well, as her questions are rhetorical.

You could try telling her that even Leicester is a tropical paradise when lit up by her divine radiance…?

The first time’s very special, isn’t it?

He had an imaginary friend as a kid. She used to beat the crap out of him too – maybe that’s where he gets it from.

He has some pretty intense CP fantasies… I hope they’ve got the stomach and the stamina for it.

Just realised I actually did two captions of this lovely image of the lovely lady (Maya Sinn!) and Pookie (most probably someone with a name unlike ‘Pookie’, but you never know) so you might as well have both.

Pure bliss and divine serenity


Perhaps she ought to explore ways to teach him what her orgasm sounds like. There must be opportunities, for an independently-minded lady such as her.	.

Actually, most of the women I have ever paid to mistreat me are very kind to animals. Maybe it’s a balance thing.

Thank badness for that.

Hmm… let’s think. I’m not staying at a Travellodge, OK? I do have some standards.

I read about this fake findomme who was defrauding her clients. Apparently she was taking their money and then not ignoring them at all. It’s sad that kind of thing happens, as it gives the whole industry a bad name.

Feminine tuition

Just go with it, Robert. See where it takes you.

He’ll be genius-level. And that’s just the first batch.

Unlike many dominant ladies, my own SO quite enjoys it when I disagree with her. Says she finds it stimulating – I do too.

There are some very responsible positions available. Of course, George would have to serve his time as a tampon boy, but do a good job there for a few years and the sky’s the limit.

She’s doing the scene a real service.

Historical behaviour

Mmmm… So, acting on numerous readers’ requests I fired up the old time portal to try to grab a few more glimpses from our future. But regular ‘readers’ of this blog will know that my time machine is about as effective and reliable as everything else I possess and this time it seems to have veered off into the past. The dial flicked between the 1930s and the nineteenth century, before breaking off and rolling into a corner of the cellar where my chain isn’t long enough to reach, so I’m afraid I have no idea when these originated.

I have a feeling this has happened before, though. Long, long ago….

My philosophy

Fundamentally, I am rather lazy, as my Significant Other will confirm. As She’s not here just now*, I thought today that rather than bother to write any captions myself, I would let others do so – freely and shamelessly borrowing from the world’s greatest philosophical thinkers (and Craig Silvey, whoever the hell he is but he has a great quote).

I must be a very bad man, then, because I desire it desperately.

*You won’t tell Her, will you?

Dommestic violence

More of the usual kind of thing follows this short announcement.

Just go along with it. In a few hours, you’ll be married and then I expect we’ll find out who’s really in charge!

Try hard. Think of plastic ducks and teddie bears. And next time – if you survive – try to click the right fucking box, OK?

He’s losing.

Normally, I want to make clear, I write all the captions featured on this site. But this is by someone else. There’s actually quite a lot of his work featured on the web, if you like it.

I’m sure you do. Or you will.