Movie night!

To be honest, I’ve never much seen the point of the Oscars.  


It’s always such a disappointment, so many awards being handed out to people other than Anne.  I’m not even going to watch it this year, partly as a result of that manifest unfairness, also because my TV privileges have been withdrawn for six months, for being uppity.


Obviously, I’m not saying She should get all the awards. I suppose that they have to go through the motions of giving a
few of the prizes to other people, but they
don’t have to make such a fuss about it.  They could have a separate ceremony
at, I duuno, 10 in the morning or something and hand out a few things for
best special effects in a foreign-language wildlife documentary and suchlike, then get all that out of the way so they
can devote the evening to honouring Her. 



Oh and ‘best’ actor?  Really???   I mean, come on. Why not just go out into the street and start handing out awards for best left-over kebab, or most elegant piss stain against the wall?  Political correctness gone mad, if you ask me.


Anyway, here are some movie-themed captions. Mostly sci-fi. I love sci-fi.  I also love Anne Hathaway. It’s about time I told you that; I’ve been concealing it for too long.




There’s a shocking plot twist in Arrival. I won’t spoil it for anyone who hasn’t seen the movie, but let’s just say that Amy spends a long time in that suit at one point, and someone starts getting all snarky when she orders him to clean it out.












Sneak preview – I’m actually an extra in the sequel, WAOM 2!  Well, a part of me is, anyway.  Actually, it’s a stain on the sole of one of Tricia’s boots, but I do get a credit.



Life support won’t shut down for a day or two. So you’ll have the time to make the place tidy.





I imagine everyone’s seen this movie, so I don’t suppose it’s news to anyone that the males surrender and are tortured viciously; the survivors being branded and enslaved. It’s a vison of a crushing, brutal tyrannical regime, spreading slavery and misery across the galaxy.   But then Star Trek has always been idealistic like that.









If he was a bit brighter, he might have wondered why the deck his pod is on is called “Cargo Deck 3”.  But he’s a man and men can be distressingly unobservant.













Actually, some of them have small speaking roles. Mostly crying and begging for mercy.




A sea of retarded sexuality and bad poetry.

Sometimes I link to 80s British music at the start of these posts, and it’s only just struck me that never once so far have I featured the greatest band to come out of the UK in the last – oh, fifty years at least.  So here’s something from the Tap.  Oh – and the content?  Just for once, it is actually related to the general theme of this blog.



OK, so her kink is not your kink.  But would it kill you to do something that turns her on for a change?
Democracy’s wonderful, as long as not too many men vote.  This set-up looks OK.
She’ll want to be tight up there for the bridge shot.  But stick around, as she’ll probably change down to something a bit looser to finish the break.
Hmm.  You’ll appreciate that as a sub male I don’t at all approve of threats or allusions of CP towards women?  But what I approve or otherwise is unimportant.






I’ve heard he’s been in some space movies too.  But the only space movie I’ve ever enjoyed was Interstellar, so I wouldn’t know about that.


Happy Hathaday!

Thirty-four today and still stopping hearts!  Happy Hathaday to all the blog’s regular readers.


I’m personally quite excited (well, as excited as the steel tube will let me) about Anne’s new film, Colossal, in which she stomps all ovcer a South Korean city, causing mahem and destruction as she –


What’s that you say?  The stomping is actually done by an insectoid CGI monster which might or might not be telepathically linked to Anne’s character, or indeed might not be real?


Oh. That doesn’t sound so much fun.  I wonder why they went with that.  When they could’ve…mmm.


Still, it’s an Anne movie so you can bet I’ll be saving up my pocket money for the next few weeks to be able to afford a cinema ticket. In the meantime, here are some Hathaptions… no, that’s rubbish, erm, Anneotated Hatha.. erm… oh anyway, they’re captioned images of The Divine and that’s what this blog is all about.



 Three new ones:


 







 














And some of my favourites from the old ones you’ve seen before, so you don’t have to go to the trouble of clicking ‘Heart-stopping beauty’ in the wordycloud there. Remarkably, this little collection represents considerably less than a third of the Anne captions I’ve done – but still manages to get very repetitive.  Amazing, huh?







































































 






























































…and my favouritest of all:










Long to reign over us

 
Ymmmph

 

Like many dommes, she’s actually the kindest person you could ever meet. Although she must know that the poor thing’s probably already dead, she’s going to pull and push and press and kick with all her might, if there’s still a chance that could get it out unharmed
Yes – useful tip there: it’s a ‘storage space’.  I went to the out of town furniture superstore and asked to see beds with an inbuilt cuckie closet and the saleswoman gave me ever such a funny look.  She took me to the right section, though, so I suppose that it was all right.  And she even let Raoul and my wife try the mattress out, so in the end it worked out quite well for everyone.
 
Yeah, lots of people say size doesn’t matter but they’re not the ones being used as pain-toys because it’s all they’re good for, now, are they?
 The glorious Gigi Allens, of course.  Is there a sadder phrase anywhere on the Internet than her self-description as a ‘former professional dominatrix’?  Howl!


Actually, for me it was the maid’s costume in that movie.  Mrrrrow!

 

Oscar night

 
 
Oh wow.  Hey… this is… this just so great.  Thank you.  Thank you so, so much.
 
Listen – I
just want to say a word or two about my very good friend Mark, OK?

I think you
know who I mean.  I know he didn’t direct
this movie. Fact is, he hasn’t directed any movie since that unfortunate incident
of masturbating into some of the female extras’ shoes on that last movie of
his.  That was a bad time for him.

But listen –
Mark isn’t a quitter. No way.  And he loves this business.  Sure, he couldn’t get any directing or
writing jobs any more.  But he came to us
and he begged for some work on this movie – any work. He was on his knees in
front of me and Brad, crying his eyes out and kissing the ground.  That’s how passionate he is about movies.
 
 

So we took
pity and gave him a job as a laundry boy. 
Just for the clothes.  Not the shoes.
We made that very clear.  You see, some of the shoes in the movie were really valuable – Louboutin – you
know?  And the costumist was really
worried about them with Mark around. 
Semen can damage fine leather quite badly, apparently.  So we were all talking about it, and saying maybe
we should get a lockable cupboard or something, when Brad said “Why not lock
his cock away instead?”.

And you know
– when we told him that was a condition of his staying on the picture crew,
Mark didn’t hesitate. He wore a chastity belt for five months, right
through the hot summer months. Why?  OK,
because he was desperate.  But also
because he’s a true professional.

And I just
want to say that that same professionalism shone through everything he
did.  The chorus girls’ sweaty leotards,
the stuntmen’s grimy overalls, even Brad’s favourite socks came back clean and
pressed every day without fail. One time, I had such a heavy period and we only
had one spare of the white shorts I had to wear for the scene we were shooting?
Well, every time they got stained, Mark would take them off and hand-wash them
and dry them carefully with a blow dryer, in time for me to change and just
keep on filming.  Didn’t I tell you he isn’t a quitter!

Yeah!  That’s right! 
Give it up for Mark!  We love you Mark!
 
 
 
And he’s
here tonight!  Can we get a spotlight on
that table there? No – the next along…there! 

Hey Mark!

So, yeah,
Mark – I know you didn’t want any kind of fuss made.  But all the other stars who’ve made speeches
have thanked all the people who played really important roles in the
movie.  So I thought maybe I’d use my
time to thank you instead.  And I know
just how to do it.

You ladies,
there on the table with Mark?  Yeah – you
three beautiful ladies!  I want you to
stand up on the table in front of him. 
Yeah, that’s right.  ON the
table.  Careful how you get up there. And one by one – I want you to
let him sniff your shoes, nice and slow.

Oooh – Jimmy
Choo! Mark’s in luck.

Go on Mark.
You know you want to.  You deserve it. I got my Oscar, and you get your reward too,
compadre! Good job. 
 
 

Let’s hear
it for Mark!

Hey – have
we got time to get him up here for a speech too?  If we’re quick?  OK!

Mark – c’mon
up here!  We want to hear from you!
 
Oh – he’s shy.  C’mon guys, slow clap. We can get him up here.
 
Mark. Mark.  MARK.  MARK. MARK. MARK.
 
OK!
 
 
 
Actually, I almost never watch the Academy Awards. I find it rather offensive, the way some of the stars they celebrate are men. And even in the awards for actresses, I find they often single out people other than Anne to win.  There’s just no need for that, in my view and I wish they wouldn’t do it.

Just a short one for Anne

Oo-er sounds a bit rude!


Anyway, Servitor here, just wanted to mention that a few weeks back, I was having a discussion in the comments (actually, all the comments are written by me, in a pathetic bid to make the blog look popular, but that’s another matter – this one was under my own name) and I said:

But then the consciously and
obviously “femdom” movies generally are disappointing. Walk All Over Me
had Tricia Helfer, but not for long.

I suspect the less
consciously femdom things work better. Anne Hathaway gives femdom phone
sex in a Russian accent in Valentines Day. But the swoon moment for me
was when her vanilla character looks cross with her boyfriend right at
the end of the movie. Ah well.

 And I just thought you’d like to see, so:



Aaaaahhh.

Don’t you think?  Hmm?


Anyway, that’s it for today.  No captioned images, so…. oh all right then.  Here’s just one.





Oh, go on then, why not:







Right, that’s it.  Now go away and leave me to contemplate the divine Anne in peace.

Twelve months not coming

 
 
 
 
Eleven canes a-striping
 

 

 
 
Ten hours of sweeping
 

 

 
 
Nine slaps a-glancing
 

 

 
 
Eight dreams of milking
 

 

 
 
Seven hours of rimming
 

 

 
 
Six quirts a-flaying
 

 

 
 
Five spiked rings!
 

 

 
 
 
 Four angry words

 
 
Three gay friends
 

 

 
 
 
Two rubber gloves

 

 
 
But…no glimpse of that little golden key!
 
 
 
HAPPY NEW YEAR, ONE AND ALL!
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Croaked

The Frog Prince
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The frog sat still on Princess Maria’s palm, its only
movement an occasional bulging out of its throat, as its big round eyes watched
her.

“A prince?” she said thoughtfully, after a while.  “Prince of where?”
 
 

“Of Lower Lotharingia”, the amphibian croaked.  “A land of prosperous farmers and merchants
waiting to welcome me back with my beautiful queen, if you would do me that homour.  It is blessed with a fine climate, and
limitless wealth from its – “
 
 

“Silver mines” she interrupted.  “Yes, I know all about them.  Daddy lets me sit in on the military
briefings.  We’ve 200,000 men poised on the
borders, and we’ve made a deal with Upper Lotharingia to split the country
between us.  The enemy army’s just a bunch of part-time soldiers – merchants and farmers. They won’t last two days against our armoured divisions.  Then we can enslave the survivors and put them to work in the silver mines.  Daddy thinks we can double
the output!
A chain-gang of 30 miners can produce almost 30 ounces of silver a day, if they’re whipped hard enough.”
“So why would I want to marry you?”
 
 

“But… but you could be a beloved queen, and – “ the frog
began.

“Or a despotic empress” she laughed, picking the animal up
by its back foot, where it dangled helplessly for a moment, before being tossed
onto the sun-baked flagstones for the crows.
 
Try clicking on ‘fairy tale’ in that word cloud to the right, if you liked the words, and on ‘heart-stopping beauty’ if you preferred the pictures.

Love is…

… savage and cruel and it shines like destruction.

Or at least, I’ve always found it to be so.

I usually deal with it by shrieking like a little girl, thrashing helplessly against the bonds and frantically begging for forgiveness. I guess everyone has their own way, huh?
 
 
 

 

She shouldn’t worry about a thing. He’s really good at toppling over onto his side.
 
 

 

Yes, I suppose that would be very special.
 
 

 

Well, that’s a bit last-minute isn’t it?   Honestly – that Raoul!  He does make me cross sometimes, he really does.
 
 
Letting daylight in on industrial light and magic.
 

Lick my filthy boots you pathetic little slave!

Occasionally I feel the need for a headline that takes us back to femdom basics. Not everything has to be ironic all the time.  Does it?


Better do as she says.
 
 
 

 

Sounds very sensible.  You get what you don’t pay for.
 
 

 

You’re going to experience some of her choices too.
 
 

 

Oh, OK.  I just like to know.
 
My head is currently very, very fucked!
 





 

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