Category: sweaty

Nonsensical sex

More of these.

Aren’t you just the perfect host? Sorry, I meant pervert. The pervert host.
I always get so excited on Pervemas morning, waiting to be unwrapped.
I don’t know what they pay those sweatboys for. Oh, don’t they? Oh, OK. Even so, there’s no excuse for not doing a professional job.
I don’t know what it is about the phrase “Purely routine anal probe” but I feel (deep inside me) it’s not used enough in our own world.
Although everyone says that no one carries coins these days, public shining posts like this one (like the many coin-operated public lavatories you can still find chained up with gaping mouths in Pervworld) often end the day with a rectum uncomfortably full of change.
It’s a lot greener than most other forms of transport, especially since a lot of their fodder is recycled.

Give way to oncoming women

Or “yield” as I believe the Americans would put it.

You might imagine your life would be harder if you really cut down on spending on yourself – but actually, it will be much, much harder if you don’t.
Oddly enough, the most unpleasant-tasting thing a domme has ever made me ingest in session was something that was actually intended to be food: a jar of cheese and cauliflower babyfood. No wonder babies learn to talk so quickly, if that’s what we’re feeding them.
No, no Brer Fetish Model … please don’t make me clean out your sweaty latex!
Good thing you’ve got something to do to take your mind off the humiliation of what’s going on upstairs.
Fortunately I’m largely immune to SPH as my ego is even smaller, if such a thing can be imagined.
Yes: blame yourself. She always does, so why quibble?

Emotional stupidity

In case you’re wondering why I am posting on a Thursday instead of the usual Friday, the answer is ‘rank incompetence – the idiot’s not even able to read a calendar properly, for goodness’ sake!’.

They say great art is 90% perspiration.
She’s a specialist in pain management.
Nice clean shoes – good job! Now, let’s have that chat.
Thank goodness they reminded him – how embarassing it would have been to have had to admit he’d forgotten the anniversay again.
Surprisingly unsurprisingly “People for the Ethical Treatment of Paypigs” just isn’t a thing.
She seems nice. My SO taught me the right way to do laundry by just whipping me without explanation every time it wasn’t right. We got there, but it was a lot of work for her, poor thing.

And eating it too

A special ‘Pervworld’ post – that’s an occasional series in which I put up captioned images that fall well below the already laughably low bar for plausibility that this blog applies, then try to justify it as being in some way knowing and ironic. See what I did there? It’s like when TV shows get to objectify women, but it’s OK because they’re really just subverting the genre.

And this intro itself is ironically mocking my own ironic use of cheesy fetish tropes to, to… OK maybe I’m over-thinking things. Not a common problem among males like myself, I’ll admit. Hmm? What’s that you say? ‘Shut up and get the fuck on with it, Servitor you annoying little prick’? Sure, happy to.

And a ‘special’. When I saw the site name on these images, I just felt that they had to feature in Pervworld. Get ready to salute the brave girls of the Special Feet Force…

Rigorous relationships

“Because I say so” is actually the best reason of all, I’ve found.
I’ve heard that ‘smelly feet’ is actually one of the flavours in those Harry Potter jelly beans, but you have to eat a lot of raspberry and cherry and other such pointless flavours while looking for one.
She hasn’t even got that right: that helmet’s definitely from the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. Do you think I should tell her?
Don’t worry: there’ll be lots of chances to apologise during and – taking an optimistic view of how it goes – after, too.
Surely you wouldn’t sacrifice your deeply held commitment to the principles of men’s lib, just to get into a relationship with a pretty woman? Because that would be shallow and demeaning.  Wouldn’t it?

Superior sex

 She is it, and she also has it.


Perhaps you should discuss her salary expectations soon, as I think right now they are increasing rapidly.


She uses ‘cruelty free’ cosmetic products but I’m afraid that attitude extends only to animals. Non-human animals, I mean.


The system is open to abuse by women seeking to save money on nursing care for their elderly male relatives unfortunately. But a recent inquiry into the prevalence of false accusations of crminal sexism concluded (a) that it was not so very high and (b) that the old bastards probably deserved it anyway. So that’s all right.


Imagine putting her to so much trouble. And he calls himself submissive…


The lady visting OWK in this pastoral scene is Goddess Sophia, whose cages, canes and (most memorably) gloriously swishy rubber dress Servitor has had the honour to experience – and can thoroughly recommend to UK-based subs. She may or may not still be in business and is not the lady of the same name in Portsmouth, who I am sure is equally lovely.

I imagine Douglas knows many things they don’t… lots of secret little thoughts.







Governing bodies

 

Everyone feels a bit uncomfortable, on their first day in the torture room.




Really?  Oh… that would be just awful!

 

 

 

 

Don’t tell her she’s not doing it right – it works for her, OK?




Language barriers can be overcome, with good will on both sides – or failing that, one side holding a whip and not giving a shit about what the other side might actually be saying.


His musical tastes are more Bruce Springsteen than Ariana Grande.  He did tell them that, but then he also told them his session tastes were more towards sensual domination than frequent, brutal electric shocks to the balls… so it looks like they didn’t pay a lot of attention.


 

Why should it matter to us

if they don’t approve?

 


Why not both?




Thinking about her being clammy makes me clammy…





If you’re finding it difficult to relax, try explaining to her that you’d just rather she got a second opinion from a male dentist before drilling.  I’m sure she won’t mind.





Obviously.  Although it looks like it’s already got a lot of toppings, so maybe no need?





My SO sometimes forgets why she’s doing things even after starting.  The other day, we were about ten minutes into a judicial caning when she paused and confessed shamefacedly that she’d forgotten entirely what I was being beaten for!  How we laughed.  Later that day she remembered, fortunately, and she took the trouble to sort it out properly.





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.


Power play

Ah… the abusive dommie-psycho-mommie scene.  Part of every domme’s standard repertoire.  And all you need to get started are some wire coathangers.

The previous guy found the smell a bit pungent too.  In fact, he said it made him vomit, it was so bad. But I’m sure he was exaggerating.

Everyone knows women all love sitting around having their boots cleaned and then smeared with semen.  It’s amazing dommes get away with charging their clients so much to let them do it, really.

Hee hee.  I’ve actually let it drain to 90% but I’m going to tell her it’s fully charged, because 90% is still a green light!  Pretty sneaky, huh? That’s at least 25 minutes less screaming in agony.  Guess I’ll show her!

It won’t matter to anyone who matters, anyway.


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