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.


 

Leading women

People think that the whole ‘femdom humiliatrix’ thing is just a minority interest but back in the day when I was dating I met so many girls whose sexual fantasy was to deny me sex – and many who mocked my small penis, too.  They’re out there if you know how to find them.

 




It’s actually a bit hypocritical of her to say that, because in the six months before the op, she was the one who managed to work the subject into almost every conversation.  Still, probably best not to call her out on it… you know what she’s like.





It’s very odd – according to my SO, I often choose courses of action that lead inevitably to my being subjected to intolerable pain.  But she’s supposed to be the sadistic one!  Go figure, as they say.

 


Erm… whatever we’re permitted to say, I suppose?




Several of the prisoners in the nearby underground prison tearfully begged Madame Jana not to make him do that again, saying they preferred the whip.



And finally, any Swiss fans of the World War M series might want to note that their opportunity to serve their country in those crucial mobile laundry units has finally arrived.

Why should it matter to us

if they don’t approve?

 


Why not both?




Thinking about her being clammy makes me clammy…





If you’re finding it difficult to relax, try explaining to her that you’d just rather she got a second opinion from a male dentist before drilling.  I’m sure she won’t mind.





Obviously.  Although it looks like it’s already got a lot of toppings, so maybe no need?





My SO sometimes forgets why she’s doing things even after starting.  The other day, we were about ten minutes into a judicial caning when she paused and confessed shamefacedly that she’d forgotten entirely what I was being beaten for!  How we laughed.  Later that day she remembered, fortunately, and she took the trouble to sort it out properly.





Losing touch with reality

 

 

OK, Mr Jones, so you’re saying that rather than seeing me – a
middle-aged medical professional – you’re seeing a young lady dressed like a
strippagram nurse, wearing red thigh-high boots? And instead of being about to
lie down on my couch for a series of ocular function tests, you’re going to be
tightly strapped down to a hospital bed and masturbated to a series of forced
orgasms?

Goodness. 

How about now, if I stand up and move away from the couch –
can you see me now?  Dark blue suit,
short grey hair…?  What do you see?

 

ReallyOh dear.  Well, I might have looked a little like that
thirty years ago… but only a  little.  And I don’t think I’ve ever worn a latex dress.

Things are worse than I thought, I’m afraid.  This is perhaps the most sustained and
coherent set of hallucinations I’ve ever encountered from someone in your
condition.  I’m sorry to have to tell you that without
effective treatment, this is only going to get worse.  I’ll be completely honest with you:
you could end up losing touch with reality completely… these hallucinations
would become your world.  You’d obviously
have to stay in a care facility… you’d be well fed and perfectly comfortable,
but you’d have no interactions with the real world at all; everything you see
and experience would be translated into these bizarre, fetishistic BDSM
experiences.

Let’s delay the ocular tests for now – I want to tell you
about an experimental treatment we can try. 
It hasn’t completed all of its clinical trials yet, but initial
indications are promising so it is available for use, if the patient requests
it.  I’m not saying you should or that
you shouldn’t.  But unless you want to
spend the rest of your life like this, I think it’s the only option.  If it works, these hallucinations will end at
once – for good.  That has to be worth a
try, I’d have thought.  But it’ll be your
choice. 

Tell you what: I’m going to refer you to one of my
colleagues, Dr Stevens. She is the specialist on this and she can give you some
literature about it and answer any questions you might have.

Oh – here she is now, actually.  Dr Stevens?


 

Poor chap.  I do hope they can cure him.