heart-stopping beauty – Page 9 – Contemplating the divine

Dealing with electoral disfunction

I understand as well that we’ll shortly be hearing the Court’s views on whether mouthsoaping contravenes the 1st amendment. Personally, I don’t have an opinion on the subject.

Cold as ice cream but still as sweet

…in the weekend mood and she’s feeling proud.

Maybe when she’s finished her croquet game.

I have a similar skill – I can usually tell within about 15 seconds of meeting a woman in a public place whether she’s dominant. I’m not going to give away my secret, but it’s to do with the way her shoes taste.

Do you suppose coming in your pants counts as contempt of court?

I could be a ball-boy… It involves a lot of scurrying, I understand. I’m good at scurrying.

The trouble with that Batman movie was that they just tried to do too much in one movie. They had Anne in a maid’s outfit, in a cocktail dress and dressed like that, for goodness sake. That would surely have been enough to sustain a two-hour movie, without having male characters or a plotline or any of that nonsense. Why do modern movie-makers always cram so much in?

2020 vision

A few of you seemed rather to like the captioned pictures of attractive TV journalists talking about female supremacist politics a few weeks back. So, ever eager to please I’ve done a few more. But I’m not going to post them yet, you’ll just have to wait. Just think of its as tease and denial, OK? You enjoy that, I expect. Pervert.

However, I thought perhaps while we’re waiting for that we could hear a few words from The Lady Herself. So here, without further blather, is an excerpt from a speech that the FemSuprem candidate will be making during the 2020 US presidential campaign.

Why should men who aren’t submissive support female supremacy?

OK, let me tell you a little story. A true story. Around about 1905, this French passenger ship got wrecked on a remote Pacific island. There were 32 women and 20 men who survived, so they set up a camp and waited for rescue. But this island was way off the usual routes so no help came.

And they got a little society going, organised on traditional male grounds, obviously. This was 1905. Women didn’t even have the vote! So the guys just decided guys should be in charge. They probably didn’t even think about it. But stuff went wrong. The men
started fighting over power, and one was killed and seven others ran off. Then two of the men who were left fought over a woman and the winner raped her. So far, so normal for thousands of years of history, right?

But the women rose up and they threw the men out. And they built a big fence of stakes and they got on with doing what women do: growing food, looking after one another, making their lives better. You know? And the men did what men do: they
fought, they destroyed stuff and eventually they were scavenging around half-naked for raw berries and nuts and worms out there in the forest.

So, every so often, a man would come to the gate of the women’s village and beg to be allowed back in. And the first few times the women just said no. But then they held a council and they discussed it – as women, do, respectfully of one another’s opinions, while the men were settling their differences on the rest of the island with clubs – and
they agreed to let the men back in on one condition.

Here’s the condition: any man who came back in, could do so only as a slave.

Yeah: a slave. And I guess you all think that’s terrible and a horrible thing to happen. Slavery’s not a nice word and I suppose it’s not a very nice thing when you’re a slave either. But it was better than grubbing up roots and berries and being constantly afraid of being beaten up or raped by the other men, you see. So, over time, one by one, all the men came back into the village. As slaves.

And they lived and they got enough to eat – and, yeah, they weren’t free any more. So they didn’t have the freedom to rape people because they couldn’t control their sexuality or dig up the crops before they were ripe because they couldn’t control their gluttony – or the freedom to fight each other for power. And maybe they had to
take a whipping occasionally, when they deserved it and I guess that can’t have
been fun. But it was better than starving.

It worked, see?

But… that’s not the end of the story. All good things have to come to an end and after about 15 years, finally a ship visited the island. And things could have been fine,
but the captain of the ship saw a guy tied to the whipping post and decided it was too weird for him and he took everyone off at gunpoint. And after that, we don’t really know what happened to the castaways. I’d like to think some of them carried on in
female-led households back in France.

Because women were a lot freer after the first world war, see, so maybe that could have been possible. But it’s hard to stand against the culture.

But here’s the thing. 20 men landed on that island. Two were killed by other men early on, and one died of natural causes about 1915. The other 17 came home. What do you think would have happened to them if they hadn’t been shipwrecked? They’d have joined the army, of course, like all French men in 1914. And if they were lucky they’d have spent four years in the trenches, wading through mud constantly, permanently infested with lice and always terrified of a shell or a sniper taking off the top of their head, or ripping out half their guts in a split second. They’d have been compelled
by other men to stand up above the trench and run towards the enemy’s lines,
scrabbling over barbed wire as machine guns cut through their bodies and those
of their comrades. If they were unlucky they’d have been gassed, shot, bombed, shelled and bayonetted while trying to do the same thing back, killing men on the orders of other men. And if they somehow survived the enemy but
refused to try to kill him, they’d have been shot. By men on their own side.

And my question to you is this: were the guys on the island worse off? They wore collars and chains and they didn’t get to decide much for themselves, it’s true. They got an occasional beating when they deserved it, and I’ve heard from time to time some
of the women got a bit frisky too and liked to humiliate them a bit. But if it’s that or the trenches of World War I – which would you choose?

I sometimes wonder whether those men were honest with themselves after they came home. Whether when anyone ever asked them what they did in the Great War, how
they survived, they’d say ‘Oh – I was enslaved in a matriarchal society. I had a pretty sore bottom from time to time, but we didn’t have any wars.” Because that would have been the truth. But I expect they didn’t. Back then, most men would have thought of subordination to women as the worst thing in the world. They’d just had four years of unimaginable horror in the trenches but somehow going over a woman’s knee was an intolerable thought. Go figure.

And that’s my story. And that’s why I say to men: look at the world you have. This is your world: the world you men made. You’ve had thousands of years in
charge and… well, look at it. You want to make it better? You’ve tried political campaigns to put different men in charge and you’ve tried revolutions to put a whole bunch of different men in charge and you’ve had wars – boy, have you had wars! – to see if killing people might help and hey: nothing works! You’re still scrabbling around
for nuts and berries, fighting each other, living like animals. Well, I’m offering you the same deal as those women on the island did. We’ll open the gate, if that’s the choice you decide to make.

What have you got to lose? Your freedom? Give me a break. Your freedom is the problem. And if you’re honest with yourselves, you’ll admit that. And you’ll support us in this election. And if we win, you don’t have to worry about what happens next, because we’ll be in charge. Do you have to be submissive to want that? Or do you just have to be intelligent enough to recognise that you need to give yourself a break and put someone else in charge?

I’m Anne Hathaway.

I’m a female supremacist and I want your vote on November 3rd.

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: