humiliation – Page 36 – Contemplating the divine

Speaking strictly

Generally, violence isn’t the solution. But in this case, it probably is, if we’re being honest with ourselves. Not just impertinence, but habitual impertinence, after all.

Why do I find this the scariest captioned photo I have ever posted?

Cool. This could be your lucky break into movies. Maybe when you’ve recovered, you could see about getting an agent?

This of course is Cruella, and the sublime Lady Victoria, from the very first set of magazines after the company was founded. She haunted my adolescence… still does.

Well, she used to, anyway. I think she might have lost it, actually. Doesn’t really matter, but just so you know.

OK, so you’re probably not going anywhere here. Still: you haven’t been rejected as a sad, useless and unattractive excuse for a man… you’ve been rejected as a sad, useless and unattractive excuse for a man by Billie Piper! Huh? Not bad, huh?

Turning points

A bit of a change of pace today. As regular readers will know, Contemplating the Divine is not known for subtlety. Most of the reprehensible material posted here depicts femdom situations that are brutal, non-consensual and occasionally anatomically impossible (click here).

So, let’s try something different for a change. These are captions that are NOT about female domination. Not yet. Each presents the very moment at which a vanilla relationship just might take a more flavourful turn. And then there’s a choice to be made: your choice. The red pill or the blue. Donna can turn left or right. Sure, the choice you make in this situation could lead eventually to life in slavery…but it doesn’t have to. Turning points.

Crying behind the tears

Never mind. They can’t spend the whole two weeks discussing your sexual inadequacies, now can they?

And you can play out ‘small penis humiliation’ scenes even more effectively! You like SPH, right?

Plenty of time. Brain damage sets in quite quickly, but it’s a few minutes after that before any vital organs are affected.

Well, she seems very determined. Just as well, at those hourly rates.

This is of course, the divine Eleise de Lacy, of Femme Fatale fame. Wonderful lady, wonderful site.

Time to pull out that faded old copy of the pre-nup and refresh your memory about some of the other terms she insisted on putting in. I’m fairly sure many of the more painful ones are illegal, though – maybe you could have a word with the learned lady from the previous picture?

Party animal

Oh, hey
loser!

Yeah, I did
want to see you. Imagine that! You, actually talking to me.

Anyway, I
heard you’d been, like, perving around trying to find out about my party, so
you can come to it? But you know, it’s
only, like, for attractive people, so you can’t go?

Well… are
you really desperate to be there?
Really? I mean really desperate?

OK, that’s
pretty pathetic. So I’m going to help
you out.

See, it’s
going to be a real blast. There’s going
to be a lot of guys there, and they’re going to drink a lot and get pretty
blasted and there’ll be, like, drugs and stuff, you know?

So, the
place is going to be pretty trashed, and my folks have said that if I leave it
in that state again, I’m going to be grounded.

So – here’s
the deal. You can come to the party, as
long as you’re not there too early, and as long as you clean up, OK?

How late? Well… I
guess it would be OK for you to arrive by about 3am. Most people should have gone by then.

Anyway, when
you get here, you go to the utility room and you put on an apron and get some
brushes and cloths and things and start cleaning up, OK? There might still be some people partying by
then, but I guess most people will have gone, or they’ll be making out, or just
chilling, you know? You can clean around
them.

So – the
first thing will be cleaning up all the food, and spilt drinks. You can have leftovers, but no alcohol,
OK? You’re a clumsy idiot when you’re sober, so I am not letting you drink. And make sure you get any vomit
up straight away, because that smell can really linger. Scrub at it with a stiff brush and plenty of water.

And you just
keep on cleaning until you’re done. No
vacuum cleaner before I’m up next day, OK?
If that thing wakes me up, I’m going to make you put your cock in it and
put it on turbo. And our vacuum
cleaner’s really powerful, so you don’t want to make me do that. Do not for one second imagine I’m joking.

You’ll have
all day, if you need it, to get it all straight again. My folks are coming back early the day after.

OK, so
you’ll be there tomorrow night? Good.

Well…?

Well? Are you going to thank me for inviting you to my party, you ungrateful little shit?

OK, that’s better. Now fuck off.

Oh – one
thing? If my folks aren’t satisfied with
the way it looks? And I’m grounded? Then I will make you regret that every single
day for the rest of the year. Do not
test me.

And if
anyone asks, tell them I’m paying you to clean, OK? I don’t want them to think I invited
you. In fact, bring some money that I
can hand you as your wages.

OK, you can leave now.

Self-discipline

They say that self-discipline is a very important trait to develop. But it’s just never as good as the real thing, is it?

On we go, burbling and stumbling gradually into total irrelevance.

He was known as a bit of a ball-breaker too, which is actually rather ironic considering what happens to him when the laundry isn’t done to everyone’s satisfaction.

Aren’t they great? ~~This is the Dutch airforce. Well, not all the Dutch air force, obviously.~~ Found on this rather unusual tumblr (I don’t often credit tumblrs, but this is a bit different) http://dommesmilitaire.tumblr.com/ If anyone knows of a country that’s likely to be invaded by ~~the Netherlands~~ in the near future, do let me know, as I think I’d like to be oppressed by these people.

OK, thanks to an anonymous commenter below, I now know this is not the Dutch air force, but the US air force. In Alaska. Not Holland. Well… I was close.

Still, I suppose that will at least make the task of finding a country likely to be invaded by these people a little easier.

Kind of puts things into perspective, don’t you think?

Oh for goodness sake! I’m into femdom because I don’t want to make choices! Why are so many dommes so soft?

This is an image from Cruella, the Lady Victoria – who was presented as the Editrix of their magazines. Of course, that was long ago, before the Internet. 1990 or thereabouts, and I a callow young student, nervously travelling down to London to buy a brown paper bag of magazines… aye, we made our own entertainment in them days, you know.

In some households the husband fucks the maid, too. But not in this one. She doesn’t have the key, anyway.

Bridegroom punishment in female led relationship

Yes, that’ll help get you in the mood to take your weddings vows. Not the wishy-washy ones during the church service. The real ones, just before.

Forensic examination

Ah, Mr Sandwick. How are you feeling?

Yes, well no bones were broken, fortunately.

It was a nasty crash, though. You had bruises all over.

Now – we’re going to need your help with something. The police need us to put together a full report on the injuries you sustained, so they can determine what happened in the crash. Obviously, your chin got that horrible gash as the dashboard crumpled upwards, and there are bruises around your shoulder, where you jarred against the seatbelt…

…but there’s some quite severe and sustained bruising on your buttocks that we’re trying to understand.

Any thoughts?

No, well I suppose you were losing consciousness at the time. Not really fair to expect you to remember! I just thought, maybe…

Only…it’s odd, because there are two quite distinct patterns of bruising, on your buttocks and upper thighs. The majority of the bruises – and we think these were sustained first – are consistent with some sort of heavy, but soft and flexible object repeatedly impacting your buttocks horizontally. Like – I don’t know. Maybe like a leather or a rubber belt. But probably heavier than a normal belt. Was there anything like that in your car that could have caused your injuries? Maybe a fan belt from the engine, next to the driver’s seat? I mean, it seems unlikely it could whip about repeatedly like that, but…

No? No, well that’s what the police said too. Very hard to understand.

And then there are some really nasty bruises from something long and straight and thin – six of them, almost perfectly evenly spaced across your buttocks, starting on the upper thighs and going up. Those look very sore. I expect you can still feel them when you sit down. Any thoughts how those might have happened? It was probably after the first lot of bruises. Oh – and we’re pretty sure your buttocks were probably stretched taut at the time of the impact. As if you were doubled up… or bent over.

No? Well, it is a mystery, isn’t it? We’ve been discussing it, here on the ward, and none of the doctors or nurses can make head or tail of it. Everyone’s fascinated. Quite the little medical mystery – just like a TV show!

Do try to remember, though, if you can. We’ve been wondering if you might – perhaps – have been doing something before you got in the car, that caused you to sustain these bruises? Some kind of activity that might have involved the kind of repeated impacts that I just described?

No? Can’t think of anything at all? Oh well.

Only the other car’s driver is disputing liability for all of the injuries, you see. So I expect you’ll be asked about it as a witness in the court case. In court. Under oath.

What’s that? Oh good lord, no, you can’t just drop charges now, I’m afraid Mr Sandwick. The insurance companies are involved, and they’ll want to make sure they’ve got to the truth.

Anyway, I need to take some photos. If you could just pop your pyjama trousers down? That’s right. And if you wouldn’t mind – it’s better if you stretch a bit, so it’s easy to see everything. So if you could stand here – that’s right – and then bend over with your bottom up in the air. That’s right. Don’t worry about the pyjama bottoms, down there around your ankles is fine.
Ooops! Silly me – I forgot the camera. You just wait in that position. I won’t be a moment. If anything jogs your memory about what might have happened, you will say, won’t you? Only it’s probably better now, than in court.

Just looking

What? Oh God,
no. You don’t have to do anything like that. He can’t cope with real women.

We just have to stand here wearing these
for half an hour while he watches. Then we go and get changed and leave him the
underwear. God knows what the little
pervert does with it – puts it on or wanks into it or something. Easiest money you’ll ever make.

No, don’t worry about that.
He gets off on humiliation. You
can say what you like.

Can’t we, pervert?

That’s right.

By the way, pervert, after this, we’ve got an appointment with a real
man. He wants to fuck both of us all
night, and we’re charging him less than a tenth of what you’re paying for half
an hour!

Isn’t that funny?

Hmm? No, he never speaks. Just sits there and watches. Kind of creepy, isn’t it? Still, probably better that he does this than going off to watch girls in the park, or something.

How are we doing for time? This is the first time I’ve had someone with me. It’s good to have someone to talk to, instead of just me and the creep. He got very excited when I said I was bringing a friend – didn’t you, pervert? Asked if we could kiss, and maybe cuddle a bit.

And what did I say to that, pervert? Do you remember? Oh but you don’t say anything, do you? You just sit there, drinking in the humiliation. Well, I’ll tell you again. I told you to fuck off, didn’t I? There’s no way you’re going to see us doing any lesbian stuff. Not for you to get off to, anyway. Actually, we really are lovers, in real life. I’ll probably kiss her the moment we leave your apartment. And then we’ll probably fuck each other in the threesome. But you wouldn’t want to see us fucking anyway, pervert. That’s real sex you see, between two real women. It’s not like those pictures of straight girls gently stroking each other in pristine underwear, wearing lots of make-up and glancing back at the camera. That’s just porn for perverts. The real thing would scare the shit out of you. Probably leave you impotent for days… if you’re not already.

In fact, fuck it, you don’t deserve the full half hour. We’re leaving early. Come on – let’s go and get changed. He’ll just have to sniff extra hard.

Oh – and pervert? Next time you book us? You’re only getting fifteen minutes. Same price. And we’ll decide what time to arrive – you can just wait for us all evening, if we’re running late.

Now you can call us a limo.

Shut up, she explained

I always find her explanations entirely convincing.

Oooh – that’s a nasty sensation, isn’t it? When you really have to go but… On the other hand, arguing with her can lead to much nastier sensations, so probbaly best just to go with it. It’s not as if she’s giving you a choice.

Femdom means always having to say you’re sorry.

I bet she can, too. Or I would, if I were allowed money.

She’s a bit squeamish about that sort of thing. Best to just swallow it straight away.

Ermmm…..

Pretty mean

Pretty girls can be so mean,
don’t you think?

I knew this girl in high school,
for example. She was pretty and cute, and she hung out with all of the cool
kids. So of course, I was amazed when she asked me round to her place one day.
I suspected she just wanted help with her homework, you know, but I couldn’t
control my hopes that she might be sweet on me, and my heart was pounding out
of my chest when I rang her doorbell.

But wouldn’t you know it, as
soon as I was inside, she knocked me out and I woke up in a dark cellar, where
over the course of that week, she and her friends subjected me to the most
unspeakable tortures and sexual humiliations, then locked me in chastity and
condemned me to a lifetime of chained servitude as her male maid! Girls, eh?
True story.

Well, except the bit about being
in high school. I’m British. We don’t really have them.

But every word of the rest is
true. Honest.

Onwards…

Worship…devotional prayers…human sacrifice – whatever she wants, really.

Oh don’t be ridiculous. Of course she’s not going to fry up his balls! What a suggestion! She’s going to lightly glaze them with cardamom-scented honey, and serve on a bed of sauteed mange-tout with polenta.

It’s generally not a good idea to let your manager and your dominatrix work together. But once they do, the best thing to do is just to accept the situation. After all, you have no choice.

Awww. Isn’t that sweet, to think of your comfort like that? That’s why you’re marrying her, right?

Therapy can help, too. For example, I discovered that my fears of sexual inadequacy stem from being sexually inadequate. I owe my therapist a great debt, which I’m paying off in monthly installments deducted directly from my salary.

Do you really want to hurt me?

Do you really want to make me cry?

Oh…say you do.

“Boots” is a surprisingly popular choice. You can also sell the right to choose, to someone else, then just take pot luck. Quite fun, if you’re feeling adventurous.

The picture is from The British Institution. It’s very British. I love it.

Oh well. It’s been deep-fried. How bad can it be?

Perhaps.

The lady is of course the magnificent Hunteress (also known as Cassie Canes), and the source is indicated on the watermark. Boris appears courtesy of SlavesForMovies Inc.

They also provide a complimentary paddle, by the minibar, and there’s a shackle in the bathroom. It’s those little touches that make the difference between simply staying in a hotel and having an experience there.

Sounds fair.

The caption for the picture above was loosely inspired by this rather excellent video on humiliation. You’ve probably already seen it, but if you haven’t I recommend it. The lady involved is…well, not exactly vanilla, but she’s not femdom particularly either, as this is one of a large series of talks about various sexual practices. But as well as talking about it, from time to time she simply slips in some actual verbal humiliation. For some reason, the fact that she does so in such a matter of fact manner, reading from a script with cheerful interest…even the fact that the scene keeps cutting, particularly when she reaches for an inhaler because she’s got a cold… all that, just adds to the humiliation for me. I think it’s lovely. Anyway, there’s a bit where she says you have to be “punished for being so bad in bed”, and the phrase has stayed with me… and perhaps always will.