Category: worm’s eye view

A total portrait with no omissions

 The divine Ms Harry, for contemplation and worship.

 

Sometimes she’s in the mood for screaming and frantic pleading but right now she’s trying to enjoy her book, so just keep it down, hmm?

 

 

 

She can show you both heaven and hell – as, to be fair, can the priest but in a very different way.

See?  Cruella’s not all about bleak post-industrial settings.  This photo-shoot’s in a bleak pre-industrial setting and a refreshing change it is too.

 

 

Don’t you just hate being the third one on a date?  I do – but she doesn’t seem to care.

 

 

 

Go on – not many kinksters get to live out their fantasies in reality.

 

Mine’s ‘maggot’, by a curious coincidence.  But can readers of this blog keep that to themselves, please?  You can’t be too careful these days.  Fortunately my SO is the only one who knows the really important passwords, like the one for our bank account.  I wonder what these two need yours for? Still… best not to argue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Romantic disdain

 

Women… sometimes they want you to scream hysterically, cry and beg for mercy, sometimes it’s just ‘annoying’.  My SO gave me 24 hard strokes with the cane yesterday and when I started shrieking and pleading frantically (on or maybe just before stroke number two, if I recall correctly) she told me she was ‘just not in the mood’.  I mean, at that point I was committed, you know?  It’s a physical thing for us guys… can’t just switch it off.

 

 

 

The frightening – truly terrifying – thing about assisting with any kind of competitive sport in OWK is that one of the Ladies has to lose.  They often don’t take it with good grace, you know.

 

 

Needless to say, inflicting this sort of public BDSM play on passing strangers is not OK.  And even worse when it’s in front of members of your family, as here.

 

 

The customer is always right.


 

 

The gimp hoods are going on in the later, private ceremony.  When you and flappy-ears take your real vows.

 

 

Brought to heel

 

Hmm?  Oh.  Sure.

 

 

I don’t see why she would be so sure of that.  Just on this occasion he’s the expert, after all.

 

 

 

It’s hardly their fault – boys break so easily, just when it’s starting to get fun.

 

 

 

The worst of it is, she realised when he got home that one of the dresses was the wrong size and he had to go straight back to the shop to exchange it.  Someone must have put it on the wrong hanger – people can be so thoughtless and selfish, sometimes, can’t they?

That’s the thing about crush fetish play – it’s only fun for a short time.

 

Wise women

…and the unwise men they look after.

 

Mmm?  Oh.. yeah, sure.

 

 

 

Ladies!  An object lesson in the importance of not having too much removed when your submissive goes in for an operation.

 

 

 

For such a powerful, self-confident lady, she has surprisingly narrow limits.

 

A few days later, when he was fully recovered, they gave him the eleven Tic-Tacs he won over the course of the evening.  What – did you think they were lying to him? No: they play fair.


 

My domme takes schoolboy sessions so seriously that she makes me take GCSE exams.  Usually, I do OK, although anything worse than a B can be quite painful.    Last year, though, because of Covid, grades were awarded on the teacher’s assessment of competence, so I was barely able to walk after receiving my ‘results’.


Strict unethical standards


Sometimes, for brief periods when I am asleep or locked away in a cupboard.

 

 

 

 

God save the Queen.  And her subjects, who might need some divine intervention, in the decades of her reign.

 

What sort of fish?  Sustainably-sourced, I hope.

 

 

 

I did know at one point.  Maybe I forgot… it’s all such a long time ago.

 

 

 

Sometimes I wish English retained the distinction between familiar and formal modes of address.  I could try asking my domme to call me ‘thou’ but it just wouldn’t be the same.*

 This is the very lovely and French Ibicella.  She speaks English but, really, why would you want her to?

 

 

* Occasionally people ask me what my pronouns are.  To my embarrassment, I am forced to admit that I am not allowed any.

Tread softly, for you tread on my…

…actually, modesty forbids me from saying what she was treading on.  Let’s just say that she crushed my hopes and severely injured my pride.

 
That should take your mind off the pain from the ring she just put on you.
Has she ever considered just walking around the horse shit?  I mean, that would be so much more considerate, right?
Yet another example of a failure properly to consider Rule #18, here.
So much better to resolve these things without having to involve the insurance companies.  Paying and fucking off is actually one of my favourite femdom activities, so it’s even a bit of a turn on too!
Men in this day and age have to realise that there is nothing inherently humiliating about being financially dependent on a woman. The humiliation, if any, is all in the way it is done.