caption – Page 139 – Contemplating the divine

Between 15 August and 4 September there will be daily but rather minimal updates. The servitor bot will be on holiday, so his place will be taken by an automated system that will provide much the same service, but without so many embarassing mistakes. Three captioned photos each day, without comment – maybe more towards the end. Let’s clear out that archive!

PS – this blog passed three million pageviews last weekend. There’s a lot of sick, twisted perverts out there, to be sure. Thank you all.

Nervous anticipation

Surely the sexiest feeling there is. Don’t you think? No? Try a vanilla blog with lots of pictures of naked women instead, then, because this just isn’t going to be your thing.

Well… as long as they’re housetrained.

The lady above is Mistress Hellena, web site as recorded on the bottom right of the picture. She has lots of very creative videos on the site – not the usual stuff by any means. At one point, a slave gets wrapped up in brown paper. She is clearly a wonderfully commanding and creative domme and I’d love to session with her, but her voice sounds exactly like my mother’s and that freaks me out. Poor old screwed up Servitor.

Will he go under or over the barbed wire, I wonder?

But hey, it’s what we do, right?

Don’t you hate it when women do this? They say “Is there something you want to talk about?” when really they already know all about it? And then they strap you across the whipping block and flog you mercilessly, halve your pocket money and ground you for six months? Women, eh?

It’s sad, but there are just too many submissive men chasing too few dommes. The pound is the only answer. Don’t worry: they’re very humane there.

Informed consent

It’s very important. She always informs me when my consent is required for something.

Ignorance is no defence.

Check-out time is when she decides to release you.

Hmmm. Interesting. I wonder what she does use, then. Any thoughts?

..and what’s the best?

Probably best not to ask… I certainly don’t know.

She seems nice.

I was going to point you to this forthcoming movie which looks very fine, but Paltego beat me to it.

So instead (trigger warning: vanilla. And you have to enter access code 7201969), how about Anne Hathaway in space!

Unreasonable force

He’s a lucky guy.

Planet Femdom, of course. If you like statuesque ladies brutally dominating… well, that bloke mostly. I do, actually. Rather a lot.

Cruelty-free farming has its downsides. Still, I’m glad she found a solution.

Oh dear. Another of those painful conversations.

Actually, the story is rather simple. The post of office tampon boy was advertised, so he studied, and prepared and pulled every string he knew of to get it. But wouldn’t you?

Try not to take it too badly. Just because you’ll be spending the rest of your life alone, in poverty, with your empty days filled only with the longing for her doesn’t mean you have to be miserable. It just makes it very, very likely.

Bit of politics, bit of politics

I’m trying a few themed posts just at the moment. This is a theme some of you seem to like, presumably because it deals with such a subversive, transgressive topic: men’s lib.

Dangerous to bring politics into what is intended to be a fun and sexy blog and I certainly don’t want to offend anyone. Nothing in this post should be taken in any way as an endorsement of a political programme of equality for men.

…and a little bonus story.

Speaking truth to power

“The so-called men’s liberation movement” Simon wrote “is an
absurd caricature of a true political cause: its slogans meaningless, its
demands more like an infantile tantrum than a realistic political
programme. I regret wasting so much of
my life on it. Men simply are not the
equals of women, and the sooner we accept that, the happier we will be.”

He stared at the sentence he had just written. Strong stuff.
A complete repudiation of everything that he had fought for and believed
in for all of these years. But it had to
had to be said.

He imagined the horror that an activist in the movement
would experience, on reading those damning words. Or indeed, how he himself would have reacted
just a few months before. He had been ‘Commander
Riotboy’, shadowy author of numerous savage polemics against the oppressive
matriarchal system and the attitudes – of both men and women – that allowed its
injustices to be perpetuated down the generations. Oddly, the strongest memory for him was a
smell – the smell of the hot ink as the illegal press whirred furiously through
the night, stamping out copy after copy of their newsletter, to be stapled,
transported around the country and furtively distributed on any of those rare
occasions when men gathered together without close female supervision.

He remembered running too, the sounds of pursuing police
whistles seemingly right behind him, his comrades seized to be taken no doubt
for ‘re-education’. He had always
somehow escaped to fight on another day, in the process becoming something of a
legend in the movement. Riotboy – the man
who would never give up.

But that, he reflected, had all been before he met Karen. And here he was. A meek
little househusband, dressed in skimpy little shorts that she had chosen for
him, beneath which his cock nestled securely in a locked tube to which only she
had the key. Where before he had devoted his life to producing articles furiously
calling for male liberation, today he spent his days at his desk writing words
that said exactly the opposite. And he
felt strangely content to do so.

He sighed. Best to
get on, as Karen would be back soon, and she would come up to check on his
progress. He’d already had a hard
spanking this morning, he certainly didn’t want another.

He picked up his pen and carefully wrote the number “312.” Then next to it, with equal care (because
more than three crossings out on any one page would mean writing that page all
over again), he wrote:

“The so-called men’s liberation movement is an absurd
caricature of a true political cause: its slogans meaningless, its demands more
like an infantile tantrum than a realistic political programme. I regret wasting so much of my life on
it. Men are not the equals of
women, and the sooner we simply accept that, the happier we will be.

313. The so-called
men’s liberation movement is an absurd caricature of a true political cause: its
slogans meaningless, its demands more like an infantile tantrum than a
realistic political programme. I regret wasting
so much of my life on it. Men are
not the equals of women, and the sooner we simply accept that, the happier we
will be.

314 …”

What a long way off number 500 seemed. He hoped tomorrow’s line would be shorter.

…aaaaaand a bonus bonus little mini-story. This is from earlier in the same timeline, just after Simon met Karen:

“And what do you think about the men’s-lib movement?” she
asked sweetly.

“Men’s lib is a ridiculous idea.” Simon replied. “Men must accept their place in society and
be obedient to women, for their own good.”

He tensed.

There was
a pause and then an agonising CRACK! of the paddle across his buttocks. He
cried out loud at the shocking pain.
That had been the hardest yet.

“What do you think of the men’s lib movement?” Karen asked
again.

“Men’s lib is a ridiculous idea” he gasped “Men must accept
their place in society and be… and be obed – “

CRACK!

“No hesitation, remember, Simon. What do you think of the men’s lib movement?”

Arbitrary power

It’s the best sort.

It’s the personal touch that counts.

The awesome Hunteress, also known as Mistress Cassie. But you knew that!

Summer on the roof, winter in the cellar…and you get to see how she lives in the rest of the house twice a year, when you go up or down.

It’s worth taking the time to get these things right.

Don’t worry – you won’t have the apartment to yourself for long. It’s not like you’re her only slave.

One form of castration is much the same as another, I reckon. Just get on with it – that’s what I say.

Bridal, reins and whip

There’s a theme today. See if you can guess what it is!

Generic Contemplating the Divine post

… with comment immediately after the headline, often referring to unrelated music videos.

Occasional attempt to attract attention from search engines, by spamming words like mistress, femdom, dominatrix and so on. Text in Georgia Medium.

Then some reference to the captioned photos that follow:

Alt label embedded in photo to attract search engines

Additional caption providing comment on or extension of caption theme.

Additional caption providing comment on or extension of caption theme. Quite often, this will contaibn a typo.

Additional caption providing comment on or extension of caption theme.

Short side-comment identifying a known pro-domme and encouraging readers to visit her web site.

Additional caption providing comment on or extension of caption theme.

Normally, the additional caption to a picture of Anne will just consist of some inarticulate cry of adoration.

Occasional additional message to ‘readers’, from Servitor. (NB The word ‘readers’ will often be placed in inverted commas, to imply they are not really reading but just looking at the pictures and masturbating. Unlike many blogs, this one often contemptuously insults its visitors, because it is assumed they share Servitor’s desire for humiliation.)