humiliation – Contemplating the divine

Celestial bodies

Good thing she brought a sub. They’re used to them on fashion shoots, of course: no self-respecting model would be seen without an obedient puppy boy on a leash or a sissy maid at a respectful three paces behind, these days.

She prides herself on being the perfect hostess: it’s all about making sure someone makes the effort to prepare everything properly before the guests arrive, apparently.

Humiliation play can be a tricky thing. I once met up with a domme in cafe for public humiliation play and soon found myself being insulted, belittled and eventually slapped by this elegant, blonde lady in high heels and furs. Perfect – until I discovered I’d got the wrong cafe entirely and the domme I’d booked had been waiting impatiently in the one around the corner. Most embarassing.

The lovely Princess Kali, there, trying not to engage in humiliation play.

If all that fails, I understand there’s a briar patch they can throw you into.

I hope someone tells the patient that someone with the right skills and training is looking after his wife. Otherwise he might be feeling anxious for her.

You know how it is with some girls. They seem to take the stuffing right out of you.

I mean to say, there is something about their personality that paralyses the vocal cords and reduces the contents of the brain to cauliflower.

P. G. Wodehouse, Right-Ho, Jeeves!

Yes, it’s more Downton Domination.

Red for danger

Perhaps she put it somewhere special. More special, I mean.

The magnificent Mistress Tess. But you knew that, right?

What an embarassing misunderstanding. Still, no harm done.

Precious looks a little worried. She shouldn’t be – the lady in red, there, likes to talk tough but she never really harms her playmates. She’s more into the psychology of dominating them than pain or other physical activities, you see. Oh: and brutally torturing their husbands too, but then that’s also part of the psychological game, you see?

Much fairer that way, in that there’s less chance of your escaping justice.

It’s funny how ther girls who aren’t really into humiliation play can be so good at it. Some of the dates I went on as a teenager can make me cringe with remembered humiliation in a manner that a specialist to whom I’ve paid hundreds of pounds for the session could only dream of…

Been a while since I did a post about Rule 18. Why? Oh, probably because that series isn’t really femdom and no one likes it. But I was thinking… do I actually care what my readers like? Do they deserve to see stuff they like? The answer to both questions has to be no, of course not. And you know you don’t deserve that, if you’re honest with yourselves, don’t you, hmm? That’s right. So this is what you get today.

For anyone confused, beyond the normal male mental fog, ‘Rule 18’ is from Servitor’s (rather presumptuous and impertinent) advice to a novice domme and it states “try to avoid sessions with clients who have really specific fetishes and can’t get off unless it is exactly right.”

Mostly just silly pictures, but some have captions. Oh – and at the end, some illustrations of why Rule 3 matters, too.

To comply with decency laws, the picture has been cropped to avoid showing what is holding up the central peg. Incidentally, in English croquet, unlike the American version, you don’t hold either of the pairs of balls down with your foot when you whack them with the mallet. Though that does sound fun.

“Of course it is! Gahhh – it’s ruined now!” (Rule 18, ma’am, rule 18…)

And this one too. He said green wellies, dammit. Green!

If they finish the piece and he doesn’t clap, they’ll beat the crap out of him, of course. Oh, and if he does he’ll collapse, they’ll fall off and then they’ll… well, I’m sure you can guess.

I hope she’s remembered to bring *all* the latex, this time.

Don’t ask. She just wants to get it over with.

Best to hold the session when the tide’s going *out*, I’ve heard.

Now that’s just obscene. Do people really…?

Post-script: I promised you some Rule 3 illustrations too. Rule 3? Oh, yeah, sure: “You are not expected to have sex with your clients. Thank goodness.” Basically, just images of particularly unattractive malesubs*, especially in the presence of a gorgeous goddess.

Divine Mistress Heather, of course, kindly letting her sub land in water for the practice attempt before the filming starts.

* I suppose some people might object to my sneering at the appearance of people who are – after all – just male submissives like myself. Why should they be singled out to be degraded and humiliated, by my mocking them in this way? Isn’t it unfair? And the answer is yes, of course, it is: they really ought to be paying for this treatment, the cheap little bastards. But hey, it’s nearly Christmas, right? They can have this one as a freebie.