May 2020 – Contemplating the divine

Viral captions

So the thing is still out there, doing its thing. A few more captioned images about the thing.

It seems like it’s been going forever, like the longest ever corner time but without the delicious sense of humiliation. I suppose it will end eventually, and we creepy freaks can return to abnormality. One day, perhaps people will even look back on this blog and laugh. Unlikely, I’ll admit.

For those of you worried I might get ill and die: I have actually been practising social distancing and self isolation since before it was a thing. Mainly at parties. Plus, I’m told that to suffer a life-threatening condition, you have to have a life, so I think I’m fine.

Society for the Promotion of Cruelty

Possibly insufficient levels of whatever hormone it is induces feelings of terror, too.

I once paid for this stunningly beautiful escort to go with me to a party. She was supposed to laugh at my jokes but I think her agency must have messed things up because in the event, she laughed at everything except my jokes. Still, it was lovely being with her, at least until she got off with my best friend and abandoned me. Quite expensive, though.

Looks cosy.

It’s the sound of one hand clapping.

This the lovely Amy Hunter, who once left me battered, bruised and happy. She has startlingly blue eyes and a startlingly painful tawsing technique too.

It’s funny how dommes constantly insist on being thanked for stuff like this. Do you think maybe they have self-esteem issues?

Ladies First

It is. We so easily lose sight of what’s really important in this world.

Ah… the Police. They never do anything, do they? You know, a few weeks ago I filed a detailed report about how I had been kidnapped by five young blonde lesbians and they put a collar and chain on me, then dressed me in a frilly maid’s dress and made me lick their boots clean, while they kissed and cuddled each other wearing various latex and leather outfits – and do you know what? The Police said they thought I’d made it all up!

No rush. You’re not going anywhere.

Many men who’ve been on the course say it was a life-changing, eye-opening experience. They’re all very, very grateful.

Not too much, mind. Don’t want to make it too easy.

Words of praise

Look at that… she gets to have a mug of rich, steaming coffee… and Raoul’s coming round later, too.

Things just haven’t been the same between us since Humpy Hippo moved in.

If you like Humpy Hippo, then you might also like Mr Floppyears because it’s basically the same caption.

I remember as a child running excitedly to the door to let the District Disciplinary Officer in, while Dad grovelled for mercy at my Mum’s feet. These days you can order a beating on-line, but it’s not the same.

It’s silly to criminalise sexism. Men are better than women at lots of things and it shouldn’t be a crime to say so. Hard labour, for a start: we’re really good at that.

10 Green Bottles?

Compelling ideas

Can’t hurt to try.

Raises the question: can you be ‘just good friends’ and have a relationship based on slavery and humiliation?

I now have eleven approved begging positions. Few of them seem to work, I have to admit.

‘At a stretch’… oh ha bloody ha.

This one? This one? I do have a name, you know. Or I certainly used to, anyway.

Telling me that women are superior to men

Most guys just don’t apreciate this. (Warning SFW music video utterly unrelated to femdom, yet again).

It must be awful for her, having to watch it so very frequently and often for hours at a time.

In Central and Eastern Europe, ‘BBC’ is more associated with the voice of London than with racial cuckoldry, but I understand ‘BCC’ (Big Carpathian Cock) is a thing, and so is ‘LSCMC’ (Long and Slightly Curvy Moldovan Cock), so don’t imagine they feel left out, just because they don’t have the USA’s hang-ups about race.

Sorry – I know it’s complicated for non-Europeans, with all those, like, different countries and everything. American subs planning on playing with dommes in Yoorp might benefit from some of the tips in this handy guide.

Many men wake up the day after their wedding feeling uncertain about where their new married life will take them. Harry and Martin, in contrast, have no doubts whatsoever.

Thank goodness for that. Thank her, too.

I wonder what she’s planning to do with them? As a worthless worm myself, I have no say in the matter.

This of course is the magnificent Lady Sophia Black who – in a tragedy for male worm-kind – appears to have retired from the profession, but not before she had several opportunities to grind Servitor beneath her shapely boot. If you never had the chance to visit her, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your life, and that’s that. Sorry.

Simply frightful

More Downton domination. That’s all.

Thank goodness for that.

He’s lucky. They had something back then that the modern world has lost, I think.

Poor thing. She was very upset when her husband disappeared, you know. Made all the domestic staff except Havers leave the house for a week.

I won’t say anything to her directly, but I do think she’s not making a very good job of managing the staff. First she hires a stable-boy who seems to know nothing about horses, then she hires a governess when there’s no children to take care of and I’ve just heard that both scullery maids have been given notice! So who’s going to scrub the floors?

Nothing worse than cold tea, is there?

The shape of things to come

Nice things or nasty things? I suppose it depends what you’re into.

Doing what she wants

‘Public humiliation’ is apparently one of the approved reasons for leaving the house in the present situation. Thank goodness we can preserve the basics of civilisation, in these trying times.

Don’t worry. As soon as she’s stopped being angry with you, she’ll give femdom a go. Possibly even before she’s stopped beig angry, actually.

Even the oubliette can be quite peaceful on a lovely summer evening… the sound of birdsong, the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Sometimes you can even smell the blooms in the nearby flowerbeds, but usually the stink of piss is too strong.

Maybe it’s yummy. I guess she’ll never know.

I must say, I can’t understand men who frequently visit prostitutes. I just cannot take any pleasure in mixing sex with a cold, businesslike financial transaction, you know? Much better to stick to financial domination.

It Came From Outer Space

And this is how the message ran…

She should put him in the stocks. ‘Cos the sonic doesn’t work on wood.

I believe there are still traces from which civilisation could be reconstructed, under the guidance of the Galactic Community.

I think you’re about to experience their rigorous clinical testing procedures personally

I would just like to point out that as an arachnophobe, I did not at all enjoy searching Google images for the picture on the right hand side in the background there. I suffered for my art. Now it’s your tur – oh, I did that one already, didn’t I?

I don’t really understand how anyone can be an atheist, in a world that contains Arianna Grande.

What’s that you say, blog ‘reader’? You don’t think this one fits in with the overall science fiction theme of today’s post? Oh yes, it does. You see: this is your future.