A total portrait with no omissions

 The divine Ms Harry, for contemplation and worship.

 

Sometimes she’s in the mood for screaming and frantic pleading but right now she’s trying to enjoy her book, so just keep it down, hmm?

 

 

 

She can show you both heaven and hell – as, to be fair, can the priest but in a very different way.

See?  Cruella’s not all about bleak post-industrial settings.  This photo-shoot’s in a bleak pre-industrial setting and a refreshing change it is too.

 

 

Don’t you just hate being the third one on a date?  I do – but she doesn’t seem to care.

 

 

 

Go on – not many kinksters get to live out their fantasies in reality.

 

Mine’s ‘maggot’, by a curious coincidence.  But can readers of this blog keep that to themselves, please?  You can’t be too careful these days.  Fortunately my SO is the only one who knows the really important passwords, like the one for our bank account.  I wonder what these two need yours for? Still… best not to argue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Location location location

Some weeks ago, Paltego posted a picture of the lovely Miss Chambers, from a Cruella photoshoot, pictured against a rather bleak post-industrial Northern British landscape.  Something like this:

 

 

 

There being little point in debating the unquestionable beauty of Miss Chambers (especially her lovely nose) the comments rather degenerated into an exchange about femdom shoots in bleak, unromantic spots.

Never one to miss an opportunity to do something derivative and run with it until it is no longer remotely funny or sexy, I decided to look through my extensive photo collection, with a view to identifying the bleakest background I could find.  After realising that Cruella would win any such contest hands-down, I limited Mr Rogue-Hagen’s entries to give others a chance.  

Obviously, interior shots of prison-like or dungeon-like backgrounds don’t count as those are supposed to look like that, and in some cases have probably been quite expensively fitted out to look grim.*  Nor do I feature arty and moody black and white shots against ruins – the criterion today is that the lady has to be trying to look alluring against a thoroughly unhelpful background.

All from Europe, as far as I can tell, if you include Russia, which has its share of bleak post-industrial landscapes.  In the US, according to my photographic evidence, dommes don’t go out much but on the basis of the few photos I have of them outside, most of the surface area of the USA is covered with swimming pools.  I guess there just aren’t any bleak urban or postindustrial landscapes in America, huh?  What a nice place it must be.


Let’s start with some classic Cruella.  Cow-shed.


Or this – this I think is from the photoshoot ‘Cement Plant Cruelty’ or possibly ‘Enslaved and forced to quarry limestone’.

Lest anyone think I am taking the piss out of Cruella, I… well, I am, obviously, but affectionately I hope.  I love Cruella; it was almost the first ‘proper’ femdom material I encountered and my heart used to hit 150 beats per minute when I saw any of these pictures.  The material and stories were and are wonderful, and I encourage you to visit Mr Rogue-Hagen’s site, where he has just reposted one of the most viciously delightful stories his magazines ever featured, the tale of the lovely Melody, a girl as sweet as the pears she loves so much.


The Germans can do it too, although their photoshoots often have more stuff in them, as befits an economy specialising in exports of light manufactures. Here’s Planet Femdom, where they like their dommes tall.  And then put them in super-high heels, just to make sure. (But it doesn’t seem to exist any more…. am I getting old?)


Not sure of the location, but a bonus point for this next one, for the plastic sheeting providing a temporary roof.  I want to know if they put that in specially for the photoshoot: to make it nice.




Further afield, there’s ‘bleak’ and then there’s ‘Russian bleak’…



Still in Russia, I have no particular reason to think this is an unpleasant location, but the lady on the left seems to be huddled in a shawl, wishing the photoshoot to be over so she can go and have a nice hot chocolate and get warm again.  And her shoes are falling off, the poor thing.  So I just feel for her and the photo gets an honourable mention for that.  There’s a naked slave too, but he probably deserves to be cold, the little creep.

PS – I only just noticed they’re sharing the shawl.  Did you notice that?  See, they’re not so heartless.


Moving slightly further west, Mistress Maya Sin does fabulously creative photo-shoots.  She started in Gdansk, which obviously gives her an advantage in this contest as what is Gdansk famous for?  Yes, apart from being the place WW2 started?  That’s right: the shipyard.  So where else is a girl from Gdansk (or a domme from Danzig) to go?  Here’s Maya Sin in the birthplace of Solidarnosc.  Probably.


This next one could be an easy contender for the prize, in that wily Miss Sin has managed to take the photo inside some giant piece of industrial machinery!  But then she ruins the whole thing by not actually being in the shot, which is always a drawback in any photoshoot of a beautiful domme and strictly against the rules of this competition.

Since taking these pictures, Mistress Maya has abandoned all hope of winning this competition, by moving to Paris (stop press: or maybe Dubai?) where she has herself photographed walking around in latex against some of the most elegant scenery in Europe (and managing herself to look more elegant still).  So this may be the last Gdansk femdom photoshoot you’ll ever see.

 

 

The railway tracks would not in themselves be enough to qualify, but just look at those girders!  No, I said look at those – oh, never mind.

 

 

 

 

 

More heavy metal.  Unlike the Russian ladies earlier, this lovely nymph is in more danger of encountering too much heat than too little.  See the way she is carefully not allowing her latex leggings to come into contact with the sunlit metal?  That’s professionalism.

 



OK, now this is not a bleak post-industrial landscape as far as we can see.  But it might be a kebab van.  I reckon a kebab van qualifies.  Especially a kebab van missing wheels and headlights.


The next is not actually a femdom photoshoot, just a grab from the perviest thing ever to appear on a family TV programme at teatime: The worm that turned, in the 1970/80s comedy show The Two Ronnies.  My eternal thanks – on behalf of my 12 year-old self – to whatever BBC producer decided there was nothing at all wrong with this, as it was obviously just a lighthearted romp through a future female-supremacist England, featuring gestapo girls clad in military caps, tight latex tops and shorts and boots… oh, and men forced to cross-dress and ordered around or sexually molested by women.**  Y’know: for the kids!  Certainly for this kid, anyway.

But it features an electricity sub-station, so it’s in.


And finally… I think we have a winner.  It’s not anything in particular, it’s just… someone strapped naked to a concrete pole in a rather run-down post industrial town.  Who finds that sexy?  I do, actually, very – but who else, I mean?



Oh goodness me, I think that’s enough bleak landscapes, don’t you?  Shall we just stop all this nonsense and refresh the palate with a lovely picture of the lovely Miss Chambers, against a perfectly normal background?  Yes, I think we shall.




Did you enjoy that?  I did.  In fact, I enjoyed it so much I think I’ll have another.


There.  Such a pretty nose. That’s all for today.  Off you go now.





* And in others clearly haven’t, as the ‘forbidding grey stone blocks’ of the dungeon wall are obviously cheap cladding or even just wallpaper.  Maybe one day I’ll run a ‘least convincing dungeon’ post.

** No really. This isn’t one of those TV comedies where there’s, like, three seconds of a lady in boots snarling at the camera and that’s all the femdom.  Week after week, this comedy adventure serial in the middle of one of the country’s most popular prime-time family shows featured the squad of latex lovelies shown there marching around and oppressing males.  OK, they were usually outwitted by the male heroes in their frumpy dresses, but this was simply amazing.  Still is.

Unnecessary cruelty

But the world would be a grey and soul-less place if we only did things that were strictly ‘necessary’, don’t you think?  Sometimes we have to live a little.



Her leadership style is simultaneously ‘top down’ and ‘bottom up’ if you can imagine such a thing.*






He thought she’d bought them to present him masturbating.  But that turned out to be the other package she’d had delivered, the heavier one.








Financial domination is a rapidly-growing segment of the economy, in these difficult times.  It’s just a more efficient way of giving money to superior ladies, without having to go through all the nonsense of dressing up in fetish clothes, meeting them in person or in any way bothering them.










When you’ve had enough things slapsplained, oddly enough, you actually find it increasingly difficult to retain  information that has been imparted any other way.  After a really effective slapsplaining session, for instance, I am usually very well informed on the specific matter under discussion, but find it hard to remember my own name or where I am.










Why not both?  Freak pays and fucks off.  It’s a win-win-lose, which sounds ideal.











* Very, very long-term readers might notice that I made this joke once before, around 2012 or so, to which I can only reply ‘Have you ever considered getting a life?’**


** My own is largely unused, if anyone wants it.

Cries of pain are music for her banquet

A quote, or nearly so, from George Eliot, who shamefully had to pretend to be a man to get published.  What an embarassment that must be, for a woman.  Do you suppose she had to make spelling mistakes, miss deadlines and generally dumb down in correspondence with her publisher, just to appear authetically male?

Still, the quotation is rather a lovely image, isn’t it?  Here are some more.

Her impotence treatment works every time – it’s a remarkable medical breakthrough, actually.
She seems nice. What a shame you’re nothing special.  Better luck in Somalia.

She’s such a sweet person, wouldn’t hurt a fly in real life.  Still: she’ll flog him bloody and then piss on the wounds, because that’s the kind of professional she is. Then go and have dinner with Dave and maybe a cuddle before bed.




Castration manga is actually a great way to interest girls in comic books, because it’s using the medium to speak to issues that concern them as women, you know?  Also: it’s just a lot of fun, obviously.

He was quite fat when they started training him.  Still some way off the target weight of zero that they are aiming for, but he’ll get there.  In fact, he’s going to lose a whole bunch of weight all in one go next Thursday: they just haven’t told him yet.




Abjective reality

He could try offering her all his money.  Oh hang on – he did that already.

Gender sensitivity training.  I’ve tried and I am very sensitive indeed to women’s concerns.  But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t benefit from further instruction, obviously.

Medical research has shown that male impotence can arise from many quite sepaarte causes.  Failure to leave out the bins on rubbish day, addressing your wife in an impertinent manner – even ironing a blouse badly can lead to weeks or even months of being completely unable to sustain an erection.

My domme uses my real name in session these days, but only after she made me change it legally to “Maggotdick”.
 The lady pictured here contemplating Colin’s immediate future is of course the Divine Mistress Heather.  Have I ever mentioned that that she once – oh, did I?  OK, then I won’t mention it again this time.
No… no problem at all. I’ll just get my coat…


Baby it’s cold outside

…but not quite cold enough yet for me to be allowed to sleep in the house.  Never mind.  Here are some wintrish captions.


It’s a bit cruel of her, to focus so much on the depressing news of our changing climate. Look how unhappy he seems.

The treatment he’s experiencing looks most unethical.  I’d click to inform People for the Ethical Treatment of Males about this disgraceful behaviour, but I only have one hand free and that one’s typing.

Oh well.  At least your day had the prospect of some meaning, for one brief moment.  Back to your squalid and pointless existence.
The UK’s not generally known for its outdoor porn shoots: pallid, goose-pimpled flesh shivering under a grey sky isn’t really a turn-on for most punters.  Femdom porn, as ever, is an exception and Cruella especially has lovingly documented the effects of the changing seasons on the male British body.  The shoot above appears to me to be in early summer, when the weather is no longer wintry but is turning merely ‘bloody cold’.  Impressive they managed to find a day when it wasn’t raining, too.


OWK does actually have a complaints box for its male guests, surprisingly enough.  I spent six hours in it once. 


Subtexts





You know, people think owning a doctor is just an easy way to get a lot of money, but it can be a lot of work whipping them through all those years of medical school.







I wonder how they do work around there?









Doesn’t mean she doesn’t enjoy her job, of course. She just knows how to separate the professional and the personal, that’s all.







These two seem to be consummate professionals, though.


 Quick test for regular readers – have I published the one above before? I experienced a colossal failure due to laziness and incompetence technical glitch earlier this year, and I don’t always have a good record of which images I’ve put up before.  Google Images can’t find it but it looks very familiar (apart from the fact that I wrote it, obviously).  Remember: if you spot a previously posted image, I’ll put up another, extra, one.




Good to know.  Damage to equipment’s a worry too.  I sometimes fear that, after repeatedly hitting her boots with my testicles, or vigorously slapping her tawse with the palms of my hands, I might cause scuffing.



Extra one for the sin of repetition (and after a moment’s hesitation, I think you can try out some deviation).


Just like a prayer

Humbler and humbler we become.
Brisk, businesslike and to the point.
I was the victim in an abusive relationship once.  It’s actually quite a traumatic memory.  I was upset for months afterwards… begging her to come back.

 

It’s good to have a hobby.
Charlotte’s Web – the femdom version.  With bacon for supper.

 

Coming out

You know, I read somewhere that many men spend their whole lives in the closet.  I think that’s horrible – a tragic waste.  I’m glad to say that I’ve never been put in there for more than five hours at a stretch.  Just lucky, I guess.


Shall we have some captioned images of female domination now?  You up for that?  Great.

The first twenty years are the worst, I’ve heard.
 
 
Cruella, from many many years ago.  But still one of the best photo sets ever.  The accompanying story was even about castration, you know.  Happy days, for the adolescent Servitor.
 

 

The problem is, these sorts of prejudice just seem to be inherent in the male sex.  In fact, that’s one of the reasons she’ll be removing it.

 
 

She’s right, you know.  Women are, you see.
 
 
 
Burble…gibber incoherently…sigh…
 

Effortless superiority

Don’t worry.  If you lack the self-discipline to stay away from the ciggies, I am sure she can find alternative, external sources of discipline.  She’s got willpower enough for both of you.
This is surely from Cruella, and this is Mistress Chambers, who quite apart from her other wonderful characteristics, has a delightfully pretty nose, I’ve always thought.  Seen to better advantage here. 

Hmm… Do you think they’re going to live happily ever after?
 

 

Well, it’s probably someone’s kink. A pink kink.
This is Mistress Jessica, looking remarkably stern and – fairly obviously – playing the role of Auntie  in her house.
 

 

That’s a relief.  I was beginning to think something was wrong with me.
 

Scamper back to little wife’s apron strings or stay talking to Ms Ratajkowski?  Oh what a horrible choice.  Dammit, I thought submission was all about giving up responsibility for difficult choices.