Category: whipping

A graceful predator in all her unfettered cruelty

Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to get used to it.
She and Sister Amy often struggle together with their vows of chastity. And I’m afraid it has to be admitted that the vows of chastity don’t usually win. But they’re young, they have years ahead of them to become more experienced in their nunnery’s ways.
Hurry up – imagine how awful she’d feel if she accidentally caused you a serious spinal injury, just because you were dawdling?
My SO had her beauty therapist look at my facial bruises one day. She said they were really nicely done.

Fans of this lovely lady may wish to watch her dancing as Wednesday, here. I mean, it’s not femdom or anything but it’s very… ummm… well, it’s just very. I believe that is the original, but I have to say I prefer the version set to Joy Division. But then, I is Bri-ish, innit?

Don’t worry: when she finally lets you go, you’ll feel very happy about that.
He initially denied taking any inappropriate photos, which is a bit foolish when there’s a photographic record and near-suicidally reckless when there’s both a photographic record and a very angry Madame Šárka.

Fairy tale romances

Yes, more scenes from stories of brave princesses rescuing – or not – helpless knights and suchlike. A ‘happy ending’ every time – without even the need to plead and beg for it.

They get porridge to eat, of course, and it’s always ‘just right’ too, despite being cold and lumpy.
Ah, the first electric shock of married life. I remember mine so well. It’s traditional for the husband then to ask his loving wife ‘How long do I have to wear this, darling?’ to which the correct response is of course a peal of delighted laughter.
You do get a say. Not the decisive say, not even an important one, but a say, anyway. Or a squeak, at least.
It’s not as easy a life as you might imagine – those pegs hurt just as much as they would if they were suspending a ‘normal’ male body, for instance.
The grateful populace of the kingdom later began a tradition of staging a re-enactment every year, to celebrate their beloved King’s heroic deed, although obviously, lacking centaurs, they had to use ordinary horses and stable-lads.
He may have found a comfortable place to live, but he remains vigilent. As he trots obediently at her heel, or chases madly after sticks, Sir Foofles is always alert for possible witches in the vicinity, but so far he has never found any. Perhaps they don’t exist? That would certainly explain it.

Tears are not enough

Slam that door, slap my face.

That damn flicker. Better try to get it under control, now you’re married.
She likes locks. She likes the look of them, she likes the sound they make gently clinking inside your trousers when you’re out together…
I got lost once, Followed the wrong pair of heels… suddenly looked up and gulp! The lady was very nice, though and took me home, where she got talking to my SO and one thing led to another and… well, let’s just say I didn’t get my whipping for being lost until quite late the following morning!
He’s going to be your friend too, now.
Dommes say the funniest things. One beautiful lady once tied me to the bed and giggled sexily in my ear about how much she’d like to take my cock in her mouth and nibble it gently before taking firm hold with her hand and pumping… pumping… The silly thing must have forgotten she’d locked me in a tight chastity restrainer! But I didn’t say anything to embarass her.
In the event, she did turn up, about an hour late, with some of her friends, all wearing tight boob tubes and leather miniskirts. They got drunk and started shouting mocking abuse at all the sad little physics spods and speccy chemistry nerds sharing the stage, and made them hand over their medals, which they referred to as ‘lunch money’.

Finally, a quick note about comments here on this blog. The anti-spam thingy (to use a technical term) seems to have been a bit too cautious of late, with some commenters being blocked. Sorry about that. If you are, I think you can request approval. I do see those (might take a day or two) and I’ll always approve any that aren’t obvious spam marketers. I think once you’re on the approved list you’re fine forever but I’m not sure – the anti-spam stuff keeps having to change to stay ahead. I’d love to just switch it off, but I see the list of spammy comments it has blocked and believe me, there are hundreds every week so that’s not an option.

Historical fits

Yeah, more old-timey femdom. They did have it before the invention of latex, you know.

Fun fact: the beautiful Anna Popplewell who features here is, I think, the only actress I have ever captioned whom I have seen in (so-called) real life. Not a very fun fact, I know, but I don’t get a lot of fun in my life.

Don’t make her ask you twice

It wasn’t really a request in the first place.

The world looks different, seen through tears. Often a lot clearer, oddly enough.
Of course, later, historians would debate whether ‘the lab leak hypothesis’ was actually a correct description of the cause, many (such as Sonia Lucysdaughter in her book They Had it Coming Anyway) preferring the ‘Some male moron probably fucked up, as usual’ hypothesis.
She’s struggling to keep control of herself.
If anyone’s thinking she’s only giving away someone else’s money, you haven’t really got the findomme thing. That’s Jerk-off’s wallet, so the money in it is hers, whatever you (or indeed Jerk-off) might think. Incidentally, Jerk-off’s name is going to change soon, as it doesn’t really suit his new lifestyle.

I read somewhere that modern AIs hallucinate things, so any AI femdom programme might punish you mercilessly for things you never even did! Yum…
And your parents will be gone long before Simon and Olly arrive, later.

Until it hurts

and beyond.

My SO’s not really into roleplay. She says she enjoys our heavy pain play sessions most when I’m being myself.
I once saw a lady buying some of those cruelty-free cosmetics which she then put into one of those fashionable manhide handbags. A bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say? Not that I’m judging her, of course.
A bit embarassing, having to wear a chastity belt over nothing. It felt like I’d got past that stage, you know?
Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the psychological aspects while you’re being flogged.
I’ve never asked. To be honest, I’ve never really been able to think of an emergency which would require me to have an orgasm.
It’s a caring profession. They care a lot.

If wishes were ponyboys

Once again, this blog takes a little break from its usual commitment to hard-core realism to present some fairy tales. Pretty Grimm, I know, but it’s all I’ve got today.

Don’t worry: if she smashes the door, he has alternative accommodation options. She bought a birdcage, before she had the doll’s house furniture idea.
Even tyrannical despots enjoy ‘bring your daughter to work day’.
Frustrate you? Oh, the poor chap. I wonder how long he’ll be left in that condition?
King Jorral’s queen interpreted the promise as meaning that she would continue to sleep in a queen’s bed, and she was absolutely right about that.
Now she’s learning witchcraft, she’s got some plans for Mr Granger, too.
It’s going to be quite odd for the people running heaven when, in about 970 years, the first post-Internet cohorts of mortals start to arrive. ‘Where are all the men?’, they might ask. Although obviously they’re not allowed actually to say the answer.

Hell hath no fury like a woman…

…does.

Men don’t really understand stuff like that, unless it’s slapped into them.
It’s a symbolic denial of heterosexuality, you see. And a rather practical and concrete physical one too, of course.
Actually, of course, lady Vikings didn’t usually go raiding. No: they waited at home, standing there tapping their feet and idly stroking their whips as their apologetic husbands returned with more meagre and unsatisfactory booty. There is a reason Vikings were so fierce, you know.
Of course, it doesn’t take the human element out completely – it can’t whip you, for instance.
Thank goodness for that. She must have been quite distraught.
Even if you’re sure it’s not yours (and let’s face it – in your condition, you can be reasonably confident it isn’t, right?) it’s polite to offer to lick it off.

A surprising facility for pain

Essentially the title is purely descriptive: we are back (after waking up woozily, dangling upside down, swaying around sickeningly as the abduction van tackles the winding country lanes) in the Facility. It’s a woman-owned, woman-run business that provides an ideal country break. Women can relax here, while men can get away from the stresses and cares of their everday lives to experience stresses and cares that are so, so much worse, for as long as their sponsors decide to keep them there.