Love and abjection

You might want to try noble, stoic silence?  No?  Oh, OK: frantic pitiful grovelling it is, then.

 

 

Don’t worry, it’s only until next Christmas, then she has other plans for her little porky-boy.

 

 

 

I imagine you’re expecting a joke here about being ‘tossed off’ but I won’t because (a) it would be weak, unfunny and in very poor taste and (b) I’ve done it several times before.

 

 

Her paces, obviously.  Moron.  Do you expect her to change the way she walks just to accommodate you?

 

Personally I’d rather they were in those cute Young Communist Pioneer outfits.  But my opinion doesn’t matter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Equal rights for men

Some people have misunderstood my position on rights for men, so I am happy to set the record straight.  I believe all men deserve to be treated in exactly the same way.  All of my writings here demonstrate that same commitment, I think you’ll find.


He’s going to be changing his name, of course, as a married man.  She just hasn’t yet decided what to change it to, that’s all.




Yup… I can hardly wait!  And yet I do.






The branding incident was a bit unfortunate – just goes to show the dangers of handling red-hot iron carelessly – but thankfully no one important was hurt.


See what I mean about equal rights?  Free healthcare, right here.  Males get free education too – lots of it.




Don’t worry: she won’t tell anyone where you are.


Tie me up and I’ll confess

 …a thousand ways that make you statuesque. (just more old music, nothing specifically femdom I’m afraid.  But it does feature Louise Wener and those lucky sleeperblokes, which is femdom enough for some).

 

 

Watch and learn – although it’s by no means certain you’ll ever get the chance to put it into practice.


 

 

Not often I feature maledom here, but I’m open-minded about it – I don’t mind maledoms, as long as they end up beaten, enslaved and crushed in body and spirit.

 

 

 

Whimper.




They are very concerned with fairness – and with unfairness too, obviously.




Well, as long as he’s cool about it I suppose you should be too.



 

 

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.


Contemptuous liaisons

 

Looks like only one person in this relationship is making any effort.  That’s not a formula for long-term happiness.


 

 

Why are so many women so imprecise when it comes to numbers?  They say things like “only for a few hours” , “in a few weeks’ time”, “a few dozen, and then maybe the same on your thighs”…  when did ‘few’ start to have such painful connotations?

 

 

 

She’s a perfectionist.  I hope you are, too.

 

 

 

The teddy bear is only a temporary expedient while she buys you a blow-up sex doll.  She’s just trying to choose between the ‘Sven’ and ‘Muscle Man’ models.

 


She makes a compelling argument, you have to admit.


 

 

 

 

 

 

A fondness for reading, properly directed, must be an education in itself

Another look back in time, to the more elegant and yet sweetly brutal femdom of yesteryear.

 

 

She had remarkably progressive attitudes for her time, as you can tell.  Indeed, I believe she visited the former colony, by then a thriving republic, later in her life and has something of a claim to being the founder of ‘BBC fetishism’, now so very popular on the Internet.

 

 

Cecily has a lot to learn… as does George, but soon after this, the ladies engaged a very experienced governess to help with all that and never had to bother themselves about him again.

 

 

 

She’s beautiful when she’s vexed.

 

 

 

What a fine moral compass that young lady has!  I’m sure it will stand her in good stead when she marries.

 

 

 

 

And one too large to fit as a caption, even one as wordy as those above.

My dearest Emilia

Of course, my first communication on my return from honeymoon can only be to my dearest school friend, so here you find me writing.  Goodness, what an exciting time we had!  So many tea dances, sonnet recitals and long country walks in the rain, it made my head quite spin.

And of course, marital bliss.  Dear, dearest Emilia, I was reminded of the little games you and I used to play at school – do you recall, in the dorm, when the nuns had ceased patrolling for the night?  Silly, girlish games, really, but I recall them with great affection.  I was reminded for some reason of our little ‘tickling contests’ under the sheets.  Do you recollect, my dear, your telling me that our little games were useful practice for romance with a man?  All that kissing and petting and… other things?  Well, my dear, the ‘real thing’ so to speak is a little similar in some respects but very different in others.  It is quicker, for one thing.  Much, much quicker. I had barely thought it started, when – done!  Men are so much more efficient in these matters, it seems.

Also, nothing in my previous experience had prepared me for the important role that my shoes would play in ‘rousing’ Harold to the right state of enthusiasm.  Nor the necessity of securing my husband
tightly to the bed with straps, to prevent harm to his delicate wife.  All most ‘educational’. 
Perhaps these things are ‘old hat’ to you, my dear, living your glamorous life in London.  Although I understand your social circle consists almost entirely of women.  So perhaps not.


Would you care to visit some time, dear Emilia?  Even a married woman must not forget her old school chums.  Why, peculiarly enough, I have been thinking a lot of Lydia, lately: old ‘slipper’ herself, the terror of the dorms when she was a prefect.  I happened to mention her to Harold for some reason or other and he seemed quite fascinated, so I had to recount all the details of how we suffered under her hand! And of course you and I would comfort each other afterwards, kissing all that poor bruised flesh better.  However, I thought Harold would not be interested in that part of the tale, so did not bore him with it.

So, Emilia, dearest, do write back with the utmost haste to arrange some dates for a visit.  Or simply arrive!  We do not have much space to spare but I am confident we can squeeze you in!  For three days of the week Harold inspects the farms in the North of the county, so it will just be the two of us – oh, and my young housemaid Agnes, of course.

We could even share a bed.

        Mmmm….  Perhaps not.

We could even share a bed.  It would be just like old times, my dearest Emilia, so do act without delay and I look forward impatiently to once
again holding you in my arms and

        No.

holding you in my arms and conversing with my dearest, closest friend.

It brings me great joy to be presented to the world as ‘Mrs Melchett’ but to you, my dearest, I fondly hope always to be your beloved and

        and… and… and…         ah yes!

 affectionate

 

Anne

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