toilet training – Page 4 – Contemplating the divine

That would be funny…

Actually, there’s a perfectly simple explanation. Just tell her you’re a pervert.

You can get quite sweaty dressed up like that. Hope the other guests have brought plenty of liquids.

Hee hee. Brad might think he’s her favourite lover, but she doesn’t put the spotty socks on for him, does she? I know where her true affections lie. Anyway, better get on with it, there’s ironing to do (yum!).

Very true. We each have our special skill. Mine is ‘incompetence’.

Blubbolow fllabbo ploh?

Fragile masculinity

…and that’s a precious thing, because – oops! Dropped it. Oh well. I never really used it anyway. I’ll fetch a dustpan and brush, shall I, Ma’am?

Now that sounds like a man who’s strong enough to say sorry.

We hold these truths to be self-evident. That all men are created feral.

Perhaps if you save up, you could buy her time for an evening or something. On your wedding anniversary, for example. That would be a nice gesture.

Divorce in haste, repent at leisure. The positive thing is that he’s actually still seeing quite a lot of his wife, which I think is very healthy.

It’s called ‘I dare you even to think about not telling the truth, you devious little brat.’

The imperative mood

“The imperative mood
(often referred to simply as a command) is used to express demands,
instructions or requests. We usually use the second person (plural or
singular) with an unspoken “you” for the subject.” sez Learnenglish. The ‘you’ is indeed unspoken, although sometimes She substitutes other words to refer to Her servitor.

The grammatically correct response to the imperative mood is the submissive mood.

Ludicrous, unrealistic fantasy. Who’d pay $2500 for a male?

What’s that? You’re guessing ‘mandatory gender sensitivity training’? Well, sure, maybe that too, that too.

I don’t see the point of these fancy electronic monitoring systems. A sturdy 20-foot length of chain has always done the trick in our (actually Her) household.

Here’s a clue: whoever it was lifted the seat. So it won’t be Raoul for a start: he never does,

Compliance training

He’ll do OK on personal appearance too. He looks like a cringing, terrified little worm, which is exactly how she likes it.

Don’t you just hate it when the dates of your personal appraisals at home and at work coincide?

Don’t worry, the HR people will deal with this sensitive matter appropriately, too. Perhaps you ought to drop round, thank them for resolving the matter so speedily? They’re the unsung heroines of the workplace, in my view.

Chemical castration – some say it’s a valid alternative to physical castration, but I say why not try both?

Don’t worry – I don’t mean actual ‘bears’! No bestiality in this blog, thank you very much! No, the caption is suggesting a scene in which this lady is renting out her – husband, boyfriend, stepfather, slave? – to anyone who calls and on this occasion it’s going to be a group of big, hypermasculine male hairy biker types. He is presumptively heterosexual by inclination, so the implication is that she is lying, exhibiting gratuitous cruelty to her insignificant other. OK? There – now you can enjoy the caption. Anyone confused by any of the captions in this blog is recommended to read the template post, available here.

Controlling passions

You can invest in ethical slaves too – taking the pay packets of men working in charity organisations and suchlike. The returns aren’t as high, obviously, but you know you’re doing good whenever you whip extra performance out of them, not just doing well.

Self-respect is a delusion to which males are often prone.

She’s going to want the mess cleaned up and taken away, too. Let’s hope she’s remembered to bring a little bag this time.

I’ve heard that a lot of great writers had a habit of getting up early and putting in a good solid four hours writing. Perhaps you could try that.

Probably facing rather a severe dressing down, by the look of it.

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.

The wrongs of man

are self-evident but can be sorted out by the smack of firm government in the right hands.

She sounds like she knows what she’s doing.

Another day, another dollar. Well… not a whole dollar, obviously. That’s just a saying. In fact, they only spend a penny each time.

Huh! I’d like to see him do better.

Maybe try another topic of conversation? I mean – you got her attention. That’s a good start.

See, there he is while she’s telling him how upset she was about his thoughtless gift and all he can think about is how his lungs are burning. That’s what men are like. It’s a good thing there’s femdom to help set us right, that’s all I can say.

Pitiful, really

…but it’s all I’ve got.

I once dated a girl who said she wanted me to be a stallion in the bedroom. So I got all kitted up, you know in reins and harness, and when she came into the room I handed her spurs and the riding whip and she just screamed, slapped me round the face and left. How humiliating. Happy days…

Former boyfriends… bane of my life.

The first time a domme gave me a golden shower and ordered me to lick it up, She asked me what the taste was like. I replied ‘tart’ and things got very painful, very quickly. (Non-British readers won’t get that: don’t worry about it, move on).

I took a personality test once and scored a perfect zero.

She’s lying because she knows I like the contempt. Really, she has to keep swigging at that bottle to take her mind off the hot action in front of her. Otherwise she’d be overpowered with lust, at the sight of an overweight middle-aged sub, desperately jerking away on the floor by her boots. Women just can’t resist that kind of thing.

Mistress of arts

Women, eh? You can’t just straight-out discuss something, she has to set up the whole situation just right to ‘discuss it’. Oh well. Better humour her.

That’s a very wide hole. Still, maybe there are some guys who need that. Not jealous…

Phew. That could have gone quite badly. Remember the time you bought that fur coat in the wrong shade of silver?

I wonder if in the years to come, he’ll regret not having signed more forms? After all, it’s not going to be easy to sign anything, when she’s done with him.

This of course is the sweet and kindly Mistress Jo, of Cruella and British Institution fame. She’s just a softie really.

That’s something we’ve seen a lot of this year – this contemptuous attitude to ‘experts’. She could easily double the efficiency of the plant by not sitting on it, for example, but you just try telling her that…

Subjugated

I think you might be about to experience a consciousness-lowering session.

I’m impressed she’s still got the energy after a 10-hour flight. Stewardesses are amazing, don’t you think?

At one point I lived near this really seedy red-light district near Spitalfields in London. Quite early on, I explained to one of the streetwalkers that I disapproved of exchanging money for sex and she was kind enough to let me give her money and then just go away every week thereafter. I wonder where she is now? The standing order still goes through to her bank account, so I guess she’s still around.

Because of this, obviously. Pervy lot, architects.

Many men find it a bit of a shock at first, being married. Just try and keep it to no more than 8-10 jolts a day, at moderate settings, and you’ll get used to it soon enough.

…and an extra one, for Paltego who enjoys photoshoots of dommes playing pool badly: