April 2021 – Contemplating the divine

It’s the pleasure and the pain

Nice video, shame about the song.

What – I can’t even make a suggestion? No? Oh, OK then.

And very nicely bruised too, if I may say so, thank you, Ma’am.

Goodness, how unpleasant it would be to be paddled by her. I expect you regret now not thinking this through, right?

Unpardonable, because at OWK the males get plenty to eat. Not all of it technically ‘food’ the way that word is usually defined, but they certainly ingest a lot of things through their mouths – and other orifices too.

Maybe she’d respect you more if you stood up for yourself? Can’t hurt to try. Although she’s not one to change her mind easily… and neither, if I’m being honest, is her mother. Maybe better to cower, after all. Fetch the whip, anyway: best not to keep her waiting.

Since you’ve read down this far, you’re probably desperate an avid follower of femdom, so maybe you already know this, but the Cruella site has some lovely stuff up right now. The ‘Cruella’s World’ page has a lot of photos and some photostories. Some of the stories are from the old Cruella magazine, back in the 90s, including two of my favourites (because they are delightfully vicious) from back then: Rise & Fall of Men’s Lib and Thumbs Up. Others are more modern… I even wrote one of them, under a pseudonym (a different pseudonym, I mean, cos ‘Servitor’ is not my real name, remarkably enough). Anyway. Get on over there, it’s wonderful. Even some rare photos of Miss Chambers and her lovely, lovely nose.

And the Government shall be upon her shoulders

Sir Reginald Horner

Knelt in the corner

Worried about his career.

He feared he’d be late

For the Budget debate

But his Nanny was keeping him here.

In the House, with disdain

He’d rise up, to explain

That an increase in Health Service pay

While undoubtedly right,

Was not on, in the light

Of the fiscal position today.

Nanny Strict, with her feet up

Read, over her tea cup

Her paper: the politics page.

She was thinking of days

Lost in memory’s haze

As a staff-nurse, on minimum wage.

So she picked up her tawse

To prepare for a course

In arithmetic: “Stretch out your arm!”

“Take a nurse’s base pay (thwack!)

Then take taxes away (thwack!)

And you’re left with a hot stinging palm!”

“Here’s another quick sum

Take one fat fleshy bum

Add twelve strokes from a long rattan cane

Then if feeling contrition

You can check your addition

And add up the budget again.”

All the MPs were stunned

By Sir Reggie’s new fund

To pay nurses twice what they now earn.

Then he winced as he sat

And they wondered at that

What had led to this sudden U-turn?

“I just felt nurses’ pain”

He explained, in the rain

Interviewed, by the TV and press.

“This award, you might call

It… a ‘tribute’, that’s all

I could not sit at ease giving less!”

The rest is just history:

Whatever the mystery

That changed his decision back then.

All the experts agree

That this speech was the key

To his new house in Downing St: ten.

As PM he has access

To experts on taxes,

Defence, Home and Foreign Affairs.

But he likes to defer

For the last word, to… ‘her’:

To his ‘Special Adviser’ upstairs.

Now every decision’s

Thrashed out with precision:

The smack of firm government’s here.

Yet bad luck for the Right

(Who should cherish the sight):

It’s the Nanny State that they so fear.

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’.

Impertinent features

The clever bit of the trick isn’t how she stubs the cigarette out, it’s how she has persuaded you to accept it – and even pay for the privilege.

The lovely Miss Zoe, who once gave me an unforgettable cuddle after a particularly hard spanking.

Gal wouldn’t need to lasso me to make me tell her the truth. But she’s very welcome to do so anyway.

They say it gets easier after a year or two, so just keep going.

Ah, I’d forgotten that I’d done this one, when discussing precisely this situation on Paltego’s blog.

Women will only be truly free when every male is enslaved. It’s sad that it has to be that way but… oh, hang on, it’s not sad at all, is it?

And I’ll be (your sharp intake of breath)

Mistress Lennox, of course… and that beardy bloke called Dave.

‘Ideas’ in the same sense that Pinterest sends me emails suggesting I check out ‘ideas’ about boots, corsets or traditional girls’ school uniforms. And chickens, oddly enough.

Those vanilla passengers can be rather tiresome. Fortunately one encounters fewer of them, these days.

I have a limited skill set, unfortunately. And I’m rubbish at it.

Don’t worry – lots of bridegrooms feel a bit nervous on the big day. None of the guests are likely to realise how well-founded your fears actually are.

It’s an arguable case, legally, or at least it would be were anyone in a position to argue about it. Which they won’t be, obviously.

Loving unkindness

There used to be a big problem with this sort of play in an office environment: which washrooms to use, the ladies’ or the gents’? But more and more workplaces are moving to unisex, thank goodness, which makes (heterosexual) toilet play a lot less likely to cause a stir.

Yeah, she’s a sweetie. By the way – this picture is the last known image of Helmut Kleinwanger, a German businessman who disappeared on a solo hiking holiday in the Czech republic. If anyone has any information about what happened to him, please post it on a femdom porn story blog.

According to Freud, many men suffer from castration anxiety. I quite often do, to be honest, but so far it’s always turned out OK.

This caption was of course inspired by the 1960s film The Pure Hell of St Trinian’s, in which the temporary headmistress Matilda Harker-Packer (replacing the jailed Miss Fritton), played by Irene Handl, states proudly that she is among the very few heads of educational establishments who can produce a certificate actually proving her sanity. And you thought I only watched St Trinian’s movies for the sexy sixth-formers in gymslips!

Just
run around for a bit to try to keep warm. You’ll need the accumulated
body warmth, for when you’re in the pillory, later. Especially during
the snowballing scene and the ice bucket challenge (I know, I know: ice
bucket challenges haven’t been a thing since 2019 but you just try
telling them that…).

He’ll have to learn to write backwards, which will be difficult. Fortunately, they have some very effective teaching methods, for young males.

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.

All is vanity, nothing is fair

As no doubt the quote from a nineteenth century novel in the title will have forewarned you, Contemplating the Divine once again takes a step back to the gentler, but no less unkind, femdom of regency days*. It was one of the first themes ever to feature on the blog, and remains to this day one of the most thoroughly unpopular, with few if any readers ever having a good word to say about it. But then if I got off on compliments, I wouldn’t be a humiliation freak, now, would I?

Either that, or I’m too stupid to take a hint. Whatever… here come the hot chicks in empire-line dresses yet again.

* and before anyone rushes to comment that at least some of these scenes are clearly from the early Victorian period, I should point out that I am – of course – using ‘Regency’ to indicate a general focus on period drama and costumes, rather than strictly confining the topics to the years between 1811 and 1820. OK? Goodness, femdom porn sites like Bitches with Whips or StraponSquad don’t pay so much attention to these historical details, I’m sure, and I don’t suppose they get that kind of abuse.

Still keeping it real

Regular ‘readers’ will know how committed this blog is to absolute realism in every aspect of femdom. I’m the same in session – if I’m going to be dressed up in a little pink maid’s outfit and spanked, I want a coherent and real-world narrative to support it, or it just doesn’t work for me. Here are some hyper-realistic backstories that you might want to suggest to your domme, if you feel the same way.

If you like this sort of thing, you might want to check out this or this. If you don’t then you probably shouldn’t, but there are plenty of other things to do on the Internet, like watch people being nasty to one another while seeking to demonstrate their own superior ethical standards, all in 140 characters, on Twitter. Never really understood the appeal, myself, but it takes all sorts I suppose.

On with this, anyway.

The parts of the dommes so painfully constructing their narrative edifices in this post were played by Lady Sophia Black, Mistress Morrigan Hel, Lady Jessica Wood and Mistress Eleise de Lacy. Plus some others whose names I don’t know.

Tender moments

I am in their loyalty programme. I get to pay more when I book flights, as I accumulate points they demand ever more expensive gifts and on board I am treated with extra contempt.

I expect you’ll want to evaluate this proposition quite carefully. I mean, that’s a lot of money to lend someone you barely know, just on the strength of… on the strength of… sorry, what were we talking about?

I can multi-task! I can flounce and simper, both at the same time.

As story-writers say, don’t tell: show.

Oh, I don’t know. There are advantages. For one thing, it’s not one of those wildly unrealistic fetishes that’s completely divorced from real life. For example, I am actually a lazy, worthless and sexually unattractive male, deserving the contempt the women I know barely bother to conceal. So I can live the dream, so to speak.