Category: castration

What She said



Damn… I’d already bought the ring. Oh well. I suppose the cock could take one more, but they’re going to jingle together when I walk.

You don’t know until you’ve tried it, do you?

Mmpphh mpphhhnnmm mmmphhh nng.

Well, they might not care and she might not care, but I care. Doesn’t that count for anything?  Oh.  OK, then.

Probably just as well that physical responses to stereotypically sexually submissive outfits don’t engender automatic castration. I mean, Tumblr’s business model would collapse, for a start.



PS: dedicated readers of this blog might enjoy this four minute movie.  It’s not, like, explicit femdom or anything but I thought it was rather sweet.  He’s a lucky guy – the husband, I mean. Well, Santa too, I guess.

Curled up with a good book

My weekend newspaper’s book review section always includes a roundup of the top five
bestsellers in some literary genre: science fiction, historical novels, that
kind of thing.  This week, they’re focusing on castration lit.  I was
heartened to see that this popular genre is breaking out into the mainstream at
last, so I thought I’d ignore the law on copyright and share the piece with
you.


I expect these
are all available on Amazon, somewhere.  Incidentally, isn’t that a great
name for a company? 

Bestsellers monthly: Cast-lit

This month, our bestsellers feature reports on the castration literature phenomenon that swept the
English-speaking world in 2016 and shows no sign of abating as 2017 draws towards its close.  Here are the top five on this month’s
chopping block!



Find Out What you Mean to Me

Susan’s unhappy marriage turns into what seems likely to be
a still more unhappy divorce – until Susan has a brilliant idea to turn her
life around!  Her husband Oliver is a deeply
dislikable character whose inevitable end on the cutting table we anticipate
with growing pleasure – and we are not disappointed.  In the run up to this satisfying denouement,
however, Susan must first learn about the tools of her trade – and there are newspaper
boys, divorce lawyers and an unfortunate Anglican vicar along the way, to give
her the opportunity.  Strictly by the
numbers but if you enjoy scenes of men in agony, pleading in terror to avoid
their richly-deserved fates – and who doesn’t? – this one is for you. 

Rising cast-lit star Liz Folgate, author of Find Out What you Mean to Me.



Scream Louder for Me: the Chronicles of Cutting, vol 5.

Patricia Layton knows what her readers like and reliably
delivers it to them in a fifth volume of her popular series.  Literary critics affect to despise her
contrived plots and weak characterisation, but no one writes a torture scene
like Layton. Every male character we meet is going to end up strapped to a
wooden block awaiting his fate in terror before too long anyway, so do we
really care much about their motivations? 
More than 200 million sales worldwide says that most of us don’t.

The queen of scream herself, Patricia Layton. Not a believer in cruelty-free fashion!



Sins of Omission

Many would not consider this debut novel to be ‘cast lit’ at
all. Julie Melfoy builds her world slowly and with care, inviting the reader
fully to enter it – and readers seeking a slash and scream experience should look
elsewhere, as no cutting occurs at all in the first two-thirds of the
book.  John Laurie, the main male character,
is far from the arrogant obnoxious stereotypical man providing the meat in a
typical cast-lit story and Rosie Vinners, his childhood sweetheart, no sadistic
torturess. Yet their relationship seems always fated to end up with him on the
cutting board and the path they take there is richly satisfying.  For readers who want literary ‘meat’ as well
as the more ordinary kind, when reading about castration, this book is strongly
recommended.

Can men and women ever resolve their differences without resorting to castration?  Sins of Omission explores this dilemma with flair and sensitivity.  The movie adaptation, pictured above, is eagerly awaited for 2018.



Pride and Penectomy

Olivia Rawston’s tongue is always firmly in her cheek in
this witty homage to Austen.  Will Mr
Darcy manage to save his family jewels? 
Of course not.  Austen-lovers will
adore Rawston’s wry and wickedly sadistic take on a classic, others will just
enjoy the inventive use of agricultural tools as Elizabeth and her sisters turn
the tables on their pompous suitors.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good set of genitals must be in want of a gelding knife.




Endgame

Dark and complex, this novel turns the established cast-lit
plot on its head. The screaming never lets up, but this is no mere orgy of pain.  Instead of meeting a sequence of unpleasant men who will
inevitably receive their just desserts, we are introduced to each character when he is already on the
cutting-table and we learn his story through his desperate confessions. Initially, our sympathies are –
for once – with the men, who seem to be the innocent victims, but the truth is
slowly and oh-so-painfully extracted from them and we come to appreciate and
admire the wielder of the red-hot pincers. 
Her story is told only at second hand, through the agonised pleading of the men who have wronged her – but what a tale it is.  Be warned: this novel will make you think, it
will make you weep and it may well change your life.  Shortlisted for the Booker Prize.


 

All of Endgame takes place in a single room but somehow the novel avoids any feelings of claustophobia. Instead, in its life-affirming conclusion, true freedom is found within the bare stone walls of a torture cell.

   

The whole principle of arguing with women is intrinsically wrong

I’m not claiming the link is really on topic but (a) I like Simon Pegg (b) I like Sally Phillips too – rather a lot (c) she does say that and she topples him too…  After that, it’s less interesting.

Meanwhile, more of this:

She’s right.  You can have a lot more sex in a chastity belt than without one, oddly enough, especially if you’re taken to the right clubs.


Of course Suzie won’t mind at all, but it’s kind of her to ask.  Consent – it’s the foundation of BDSM.

I must say, I find all these lovers’ pet names a bit embarassing, don’t you?  Goodness, if I were Brad I’d be cringing with humiliation right now.

I mean, obviously, the two of you can always use a gag when you play, but I’ve always thought that really spoils the sensation for the woman.  A muffled ‘mmmpph’ can be cute enough, but sometimes what she really needs is a good, sustained session of agonised, terrified screaming.  Yum.

Actually, he is still experiencing a paid-for abduction fantasy.  Only difference being: it’s hers.


 



The imperative mood

“The imperative mood
(often referred to simply as a command) is used to express demands,
instructions or requests. We usually use the second person (plural or
singular) with an unspoken “you” for the subject.” sez Learnenglish. The ‘you’ is indeed unspoken, although sometimes She substitutes other words to refer to Her servitor.

The grammatically correct response to the imperative mood is the submissive mood.
Ludicrous, unrealistic fantasy. Who’d pay $2500 for a male?

What’s that? You’re guessing ‘mandatory gender sensitivity training’?  Well, sure, maybe that too, that too.

  

I don’t see the point of these fancy electronic monitoring systems.  A sturdy 20-foot length of chain has always done the trick in our (actually Her) household.


Here’s a clue: whoever it was lifted the seat. So it won’t be Raoul for a start: he never does,


Femalevolence


Oh, just go with it. You enjoy sexy abbatoir play, she enjoys bacon sandwiches.  You’re very compatible.

Don’t worry. She respects the hard limits imposed by the Geneva Convention.  No hollow-nosed bullets, just a good clean round through the forehead if you get the password wrong.

Poor thing. She obviously misses him terribly.

Yes, I could use a muscle relaxant.  I’m feeling strangely tense about this – which is silly, because there’s really nothing that can go wrong with a tonsils operation.

Love that biker chic.  He’s a switch – prefers to top, but confident enough to play the strong and silent sub on the bottom, you know?  Goes by the name of Master Marcus when he’s domming.  He’s also bisexual, or he soon will be, anyway.


Pink? Pink? Well, what’s wrong with pink?

 Seems like you got a pink kink in your think!


Thank goodness I’m not going to be the only one there in pink, anyway.

I only went for the make-up tips anyway.
Ah – the rolling pin!  Just in that sweet spot between loving domestic discipline and cranial fracture.
Time to come out and play!

Nor are there many rhymes for “penectomy”.  I mean, you can just about work something in with “respect for me” but it’s a bit contrived, don’t you think?  And we don’t like to have excessively contrived notions here on Contemplating the Divine, as you probably know.





Compliance training





He’ll do OK on personal appearance too. He looks like a cringing, terrified little worm, which is exactly how she likes it.

Don’t you just hate it when the dates of your personal appraisals at home and at work coincide?

Don’t worry, the HR people will deal with this sensitive matter appropriately, too. Perhaps you ought to drop round, thank them for resolving the matter so speedily? They’re the unsung heroines of the workplace, in my view.

Chemical castration – some say it’s a valid alternative to physical castration, but I say why not try both?









Don’t worry – I don’t mean actual ‘bears’!  No bestiality in this blog, thank you very much!  No, the caption is suggesting a scene in which this lady is renting out her – husband, boyfriend, stepfather, slave? – to anyone who calls and on this occasion it’s going to be a group of big, hypermasculine male hairy biker types. He is presumptively heterosexual by inclination, so the implication is that she is lying, exhibiting gratuitous cruelty to her insignificant other.  OK?  There – now you can enjoy the caption.  Anyone confused by any of the captions in this blog is recommended to read the template post, available here.


When you see her, say a prayer and kiss your heart goodbye

She’s trouble, in a word get closer to the fire.  Run faster, her laughter burns you up inside.

Mistress Annie, and her bearded keyboards boy, of course.

She’s very good with pain.


If you don’t want to do that, just tell her.  You could try stamping your little foot and having a tantrum even – you never know, it might work out quite well.


Drill, baby, drill.

It’s funny how men go on and on about themselves and their jobs, but women rarely do.  She should try being more assertive.
This is what a femme fatale really looks like.  Believe me – a long cigarette holder and a slinky dress has nothing on a battery of field artillery.




Male In Name Only

Actually, although it’s a very specialised field of architecture, her fees are fairly low, not least because she doesn’t need to pay any assistants.

 
 
 
 

And they say castratrices have no feelings.

 
 
 
 

If he’s bad at sums, he might need a little thinking time in the corner to get the salary offer right.

 
 
 
 

I’d queue up…

 
 
 
 

I’ve always enjoyed a vigorously bisexual sex life: left or right hand, doesn’t matter to me.