tawse – Page 2 – Contemplating the divine

Domestic goddesses

She didn’t actually write all of the lyrics herself of course, but she suggested the basic themes.

Don’t feel bad about the waste of electricity, though: no electricity used by a woman to shock a man is ever truly wasted.

And if you don’t like the red colour, the marks come in purple and black too as long as you go long enough.

The goddess on the left is the lovely Miss Zoe. The one on the right is not.

She was a spectacularly naughty schoolgirl, I’ve heard.

Well, my arm’s not tired either, so why shouldn’t I? Honestly, women say the strangest – ah, no, let me go, please Ma’am, don’t!

And the Government shall be upon her shoulders

Sir Reginald Horner

Knelt in the corner

Worried about his career.

He feared he’d be late

For the Budget debate

But his Nanny was keeping him here.

In the House, with disdain

He’d rise up, to explain

That an increase in Health Service pay

While undoubtedly right,

Was not on, in the light

Of the fiscal position today.

Nanny Strict, with her feet up

Read, over her tea cup

Her paper: the politics page.

She was thinking of days

Lost in memory’s haze

As a staff-nurse, on minimum wage.

So she picked up her tawse

To prepare for a course

In arithmetic: “Stretch out your arm!”

“Take a nurse’s base pay (thwack!)

Then take taxes away (thwack!)

And you’re left with a hot stinging palm!”

“Here’s another quick sum

Take one fat fleshy bum

Add twelve strokes from a long rattan cane

Then if feeling contrition

You can check your addition

And add up the budget again.”

All the MPs were stunned

By Sir Reggie’s new fund

To pay nurses twice what they now earn.

Then he winced as he sat

And they wondered at that

What had led to this sudden U-turn?

“I just felt nurses’ pain”

He explained, in the rain

Interviewed, by the TV and press.

“This award, you might call

It… a ‘tribute’, that’s all

I could not sit at ease giving less!”

The rest is just history:

Whatever the mystery

That changed his decision back then.

All the experts agree

That this speech was the key

To his new house in Downing St: ten.

As PM he has access

To experts on taxes,

Defence, Home and Foreign Affairs.

But he likes to defer

For the last word, to… ‘her’:

To his ‘Special Adviser’ upstairs.

Now every decision’s

Thrashed out with precision:

The smack of firm government’s here.

Yet bad luck for the Right

(Who should cherish the sight):

It’s the Nanny State that they so fear.

Uncivil partnerships

It’s a mere technicality.

A lot of men who are initially reluctant to wear shock collars end up thanking their wives for it, I understand, so there’s really no reason not to give it a go.

There’s nothing worse than calling your domme by the wrong name, is there? Well… Obviously, there is something worse, which is what happens next when you do – but I’m sure you know what I mean.

More and more women carry tasers to ward off unwanted sexual advances. Even a few years back, when I was dating, I’d estimate maybe 40% of them did.

Thank goodness. Finally a chance to put my side of the story!

Sadistically significant

I rather think the romantic evening’s just getting started, don’t you?

Despite her attitude to sexists, she’s a great believer in naval tradition. ‘Rum, sodomy and the lash’ and all that, although obviously today’s navy is alcohol-free.

Perhaps Paul and Irene could discuss it later.

Possibly several things. There’s always something.

She looks nice. Just as well when you’re that small and vulnerable.

And make her some great Princess, six feet high!

Grand, epic, homicidal.

Armpit Fetishist Monthly is just another example of the decline of traditional media, another fine publication swept away by the Internet. I recall their cookery page with particular affection.

…and by the way, I have posted this before even with the same comment, but… Oh. My. Goddess. I have to see this movie!

My office established a system of disciplinary procedures for inappropriate sexual activity. Which to my mind is just having your cake and eating it too… or would be, were I allowed cake.

I’m thinking of paella – perhaps a nice Rioja to go with it? And maybe Roger might like to try bastinado, in keeping with the Spanish theme.

With luck, she’ll take up chewing gum obsessively.

Love hurts and so does she.

By the way, this lady is going to feature here rather a lot from now on. Unless she takes out an injunction or something (don’t you hate it when women do that?). Nata!

Music only a little related. But don’t you just love the way Mistress Lennox’s voice sort of… swoops in at the start? I do. And I tried to find a version with a video, and I found this and she looks lovely, but someone’s ringing a bell, playing an electric organ and generally messing up that opening.

Sigh. First world problems…

More things follow:

I had this wonderful puppy play session in the park, the other day. She did that thing of making me balance a twig on my nose in sitting position? And then she backed slowly away saying ‘stay… stayyyy’. It’s actually quite hard to stay still for long like that, so after only seven hours, I sneezed and the twig fell off. If I ever see her again, I’ll have to tell her and be punished. Exciting thought!

Oh, just a plain vanilla ball-crusher, then? OK, sorry. Just go ahead.

I still remember the first time she called me a ‘lazy little bastard’…

It’s actually not quite true to say she doesn’t care. She enjoys making you cry. But she’s trying to spare your feelings, the dear thing.

Yup. All about the rules.

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.

Brutal loving care

Silly, really, to get rid of stock that’s hardly even damaged, but that’s their policy.

Often, when smokers give up, they undertake some symbolic act of renunciation: crushing the cigarette pack beneath their shoes, for example, or just throwing it onto a fire. Something like that might be worth trying too, to make clear all that nonsense is in your past, now.

Not sure about the colour swatches, though. I think the traditional dark grey is still best.

I expect they just didn’t get the original joke. Try explaining it more slowly.

And they say porn doesn’t really cause any harm…

Not now, John

I’d forgotten this had femdommy bits – mildly suggestive only, I guess, and with that very special 80s pop video fuzziness, but I actually find that nostalgically erotic.*

Anyway, on with the 21st-century nonsense.

I always find a good beating really brings an apology home. And a bad beating, still more so.

It would be very odd to be the sort of guy who visits a sex worker who doesn’t tell him off and treat him with contempt and disdain. A bit limiting, I’ve always thought.

Might be time for that safeword, actually. Now what was it. Pretty sure it wasn’t ‘mmph’, sadly for him.

She hates ironing, loves whipping. That’s why this happening.

There’s a splendid phrase in British english “Face like a slapped arse”. I think that’s one problem I don’t have – I have a face like a slapped face and an arse like a slapped arse. When I’ve been lucky.

*I once caught the first 1 minute of “The Dominatrix sleeps tonight” on a BBC 2 pop programme, when I was, I dunno, sixteen or something. Oh. My. God. Then they stopped playing it. Noooooo!!! For years afterwards, every time I watched a music programme, or a bit of MTV when visiting somewhere (we didn’t have it), there was a little glow of hope I might see it again, or see more of it. Never did until the Internet came along and then I was more jaded, of course.

And when force is gone, there’s always Mom

Hi Mom!

She’s right you know. It’s the first thing a new husband should learn: always ask permission. Humbly. Even when she’s being an impossible girl.

Boundaries, consequences… firmness. I was reading about it in a book about making your marriage work. Well… I say it was about marriage. Technically, it was about dog training. But the principles are the same.

Best years of his life. And many, many more to come, I suspect.

I am. They have a mission statement, you know. It’s quite inspiring. Oh… now what was it again?

Boundaries, consequences. Didn’t I tell you?

Category: tawse