Tuesday, January 30, 2018


Fortunately, the best man's speech wasn't as embarassing as these things sometimes are. I guess it's hard to give a funny speech, when the bride's sucking you off.

My wife likes to try adventurous sex, in all sorts of different public places.  It's pretty exciting for me, too, when she comes home to tell me all about it.

Well, looks like you won't be the only man on the gender studies course!

She's really good at 'bitter, revengeful ex-girlfriend' scenes too.  But she does charge extra.

I think that's quite an important point.  I mean, just because she tortures unwilling victims to death, that doesn't mean that's the only thing you can say about her, you know? She's a complete human being into lots of different stuff - don't judge her, OK?

Friday, January 26, 2018

Lip service

A good point.

I think she did, but I wasn't listening.  Matter of fact, that's one of the reasons I'm here.

This, I don't need.

I hope she won't be long.  Or too thick.

I've heard Gal isn't keen in shaking hands with her many male fans.  I can't imagine why not.

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

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?

Saturday, January 20, 2018


Not a proper post, one of those on Tuesday.

This is a message to any readers of the blog who are sissies: into very feminine, frou-frou things, basically.  Not those readers into hard BDSM and cattleprods - that was yesterday.

Anyway, I've recently returned from a trip on Air France and I was reminded that their in-flight safety video is really very nice. 

To judge by the user names of my followers here and on the derivative Tumblr site, there are quite a lot of you who are more into flouncey skirts than cold dark jail cells, and you might well enjoy this if you haven't seen it before (it's been around for years).

I study the safety video intently whenever I fly Air France. So, I notice, do most men.  Probably we're all just safety-conscious.

But now you can experience it in the comfort of your own furtive porn browsing.  Not that it's porn, obviously.  Thoroughly SFW.


Friday, January 19, 2018

Consent, given freely

OK, deep breath. Now, I suspect that for 98% or so of you this warning and disclaimer is not necessary but the Internet is a big place and most of the readers here are male, so the average IQ isn't so high... and I do just occasionally worry that someone might misinterpret (or, in true Internet outrage style, get offended on behalf of someone else who might misinterpret etc etc etc) what is posted here.

So... just to be clear, this blog is basically intended to be funny in a slightly surreeal manner as well as sexy, even if it often fails to be either. Got it?  It is not intended to be realistic or a guide to safe BDSM play.  Or complicated ropework or the politics of BDSM, just like the disclaimers say, OK?

If this information is in any way new to you... if you've previously taken the posts here to be an accurate depiction of aspects of the BDSM scene, then  I'd suggest the following. Firstly, don't read the captions below.  Secondly, contact a domme, book a session.  In my experience They are all really, really nice and understanding, OK? Nothing to worry about. You'll have a great time. Anyway, tell Her you'd like a humiliation session, maybe school-based, in which She berates you for being such a dumb idiot, calls you a moron, all that kind of thing, OK?  Mistress and very stupid slave play, basically.  Because - and it's just a guess here - I think you'd be really, really good at that.

Rest of you still here?  Jolly good. It's a themed post today - read them in order.

The basic theme today, by the way, was somewhat inspired by the wonderful work of Miss Irene Clearmont.  Very few femdom books are worth actually buying on Amazon (hey - great name!).  Hers are, in my humbled opinion.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Sing when you're losing

Boys can do anything girls can do. Just not as well, and usually only after some 'encouragement'.

If it's any consolation, the staff at the Re-education camp enjoy scenarios involving punishment, too. Especially with male doms. So there's that.

It's like smoking - easier never to start.

Hope that put your mind at rest.

Like I said: not as well and after some encouragement.

Friday, January 12, 2018

Tuesday, January 9, 2018


Dear Miss Cavendish

As instructed, I am writing to express my deepest gratitude for the beating you were kind enough to bestow on me last Saturday.  As you know, for some time now I have been experiencing feelings of rebellion at our ‘little arrangement’ and petulance at the constraints you so wisely impose on me.

The caning I received at your hands opened my eyes to the ingratitude of this attitude on my part, compelling me to re-examine my behaviour and see it for what it is: the result of my undisciplined childhood, that you are now taking such effective measures to remedy.  I have been lucky indeed to have made your acquaintance, even so late in life.  Had it not been for a chance encounter, I might never have experienced the cane across my backside.  It is hard to recall how it was not to know the pain of being thrashed with your cane, now that it looms so large in my life: constantly present in my thoughts as I try to follow your precepts in all that I do.

I hope that you were not disturbed by my snivelling and pleading during the administration of this most necessary exercise.  I further hope, more wholeheartedly than I can express in this short missive, that such floggings will not be necessary in the future.  However, should the need arise, I am confident your strong right arm will once again provide the correction I require and will undoubtedly richly deserve.

If (unlike my previous effort) this thank-you letter meets with your approval, I very much hope that I will be allowed the educative experience of copying it out a further 99 times.  It has, as you will observe, met and indeed exceeded the required length of 300 words and I believe there are no spelling mistakes this time.

Your obedient and thankful pupil



Dear Sarah

You will perhaps not recall me by name, but if I mention a disastrous dinner at the St George Hotel in 2011, followed by a particularly cringeworthy experience back at your apartment, perhaps the occasion we met will be called to mind.

In the years after our catastrophic ‘date’ I have had the good fortune to meet a woman who knows exactly how perverts like me should be treated.  On our wedding night, I made an attempt to be ‘a man’ and – you will be unsurprised to hear from your own experience – failed utterly.  That was the last time I attempted sexual intercourse with a woman, as my wife decided that such activities should stop then and there.  The next morning – the first of our married life – she purchased a steel tube and you will no doubt be relieved to hear that my penis has penetrated nothing else since that date.  I will spare you the gory details, but some minor piercings have now ensured that no lock or key is required to keep the device in place, so the women of this world are finally safe.

After six years of tolerating me, my wife finally decided to divorce me and marry one of her many lovers, so naturally a divorce settlement needed to be drawn up, which brings me finally to my purpose in getting in touch again, after all these years.  My wife – soon to be ex-wife – does not need my earnings, because the man she will be marrying is far richer than I, as well as being more manly, witty and attractive.  However, it has been some years since I had any real financial independence, so new arrangements must be made to ensure I have no spare funds to abuse.  My wife has therefore decided that I should write to all the women with whom I ever attempted sexual relations of any kind: firstly, to apologise and secondly to offer some financial compensation.  There are, luckily, not many.  Apart from my wife herself, I have attempted penetrative sex with just three women, and achieved a sexual climax in the vicinity of a further five, one of whom is unknown to me as she was merely a fellow-traveller on the bus one day.  The former - including yourself – are each to be offered 20% of my post-tax income in perpetuity, the latter 5%.  The 5% owed to the untraceable lady will be donated instead to a charity supporting female participation in politics.

Rest assured that no further contact with me (even by correspondence) will be required on your part, should you choose to take up the offer.  My wife has appointed a firm of (women) solicitors who will make all the arrangements and will themselves receive a further 5%.  As my wife has pointed out, I am lucky indeed not to have experienced more sexual encounters, or I would not retain even the 10% of my post-tax income that I will keep under this arrangement.  Fortunately, my needs are very modest.  If, however, you would regard even receiving a monthly transfer from me as being too unpleasant a reminder of my physical existence, then I would be most grateful if you could nominate a charity to receive your 20% (or, if you prefer, specify that the sum be burnt by me in cash each month, under the solicitors’ supervision).

Please rest assured as well that I have passed this letter to the solicitors to address and send. I do not know your address.  Furthermore, the solicitors can monitor my location using a chip implated under my skin and the geographical range of my movements is very tightly restricted. 

Finally, whatever your decision regarding restitution, please allow me to extend my deepest, deepest apologies for my sexual advances towards you that night, and for the pathetic performance when I attempted to follow through on them.  I hope that you have gone on to experience a rich and satisfying sex life, as I now appreciate very well that most other men are vastly more proficient in these matters, as well of course as being more personally attractive. I hope you can at least take some comfort from the misery that I have experienced in being forced to write this letter, and at the prospect I face so deservedly, of a life of desperate poverty and toil without respite.

I am so very sorry.

Yours sincerely

Alan Harcourt (né Raeburn)


To the pretty nurses at St Bathory hospital

Dear nurses.  I hope you are all very well.  If you are not, maybe a hospital is the best place to be!  Because if you get sick in hospital, you will get better quickly.

My Mummy, who is not really my Mummy but I call her Mummy, has told me to write a thank-you note now I am back from hospital, so here it is.  You were all very kind and nice to me after my operation, and the food was lovely and I liked the way the bed went up and down when the buttons were pressed.

Mummy tells me I was very grumpy before the operation but I don’t remember that.  She said those straps on the bed were to hold my arms and legs still and stop me running away because I was so cross because I didn’t want the operation.  She said I made a big fuss and shouted about what an important and rich man I was, and how you couldn’t do this to me.  Fortunately, there were no other patients on my ward, but she says I was very rude to you nurses and called you rude names and said lots of rude words.  When I asked her what words she laughed and would not tell me, so they must have been very bad.

Mummy says that the reason I was so cross was there was something wrong with my brain.  There was too much ego and IQ in there.  I asked her what those things are and she laughed again and said it doesn’t matter, the important thing is that I have a lot less of both of them now, because the doctors took out some bits of my brain.

I knew I must have done something naughty, because you all spanked me before I left hospital.  Nurses are strong, probably because you lift heavy things all day.  Mummy spanks hard but you spank harder.  The nurse with the brown skin spanked me hardest of all.  Mummy says that’s because I said racist things to her before the operation and I don’t know what that means but I hope it has been spanked out of me and I am forgiven.

I hope the nurse with blonde hair reads this.  I liked her very much but I want to say sorry for how my willy got all stiff whenever she tried to help me do a wee-wee.  Sorry.  I don’t know why it did that, but it does it whenever I think of her.  Mummy says I might need another operation to sort that out, so perhaps I will see you all in hospital again!

Mummy says my name is Sir James Edmonton but that seems like too much name, so I am just Jimmy now.

Love from Jimmy, age 57

xxxx (and xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx to the nurse with blonde hair!)