Jane Austen – Page 2 – Contemplating the divine

When pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure.

… and then the pain is back again, and so it goes on.

Astute readers (both of you) will have recognised a Jane Austen quotation, of course, and realised that you are in for a treat. Oh yes – regency femdom! More hot chicks in empire-line dresses! And long sentences, in elegant serifed fonts instead of that dreadful modern Gill Sans.

Swoon on.

Reader: I pegged him

Even more hot chicks in empire-line dresses! One of the earliest CtD posts – probably dating from the 18th century itself, truth be told, but re-posted in 2011, dealt with this highly topical theme.

To quote that early post:

“Well-born males degradingly forced to engage in social intercourse with ladies below their proper station! Wild tea dances!

Remember, you saw it here first! And probably last.”

Little did I know…. eight years on, same old nonsense.

Special delivery

Yes, it’s from Harold. Listen to this, Marion:

My dearest Bess. I write these words in haste. I hope you are well and have not been too worried
by my unexpected absence. If you are reading this missive then I have the joy to announce that our enforced separation can at last be ended.

You see, my love, there has been the most monstrous misunderstanding. The uncle of yours, to whom you suggested I apply for a position, appears to have been under the impression that I was a potential pupil for a school of which he acts as governor. I am not aware of the precise location, but somewhere on a bleak moor in Derbyshire, I am enrolled in a boys’ boarding school!

In vain, I have pointed out that I am no schoolboy, but an independent gentleman of 25 years, recently contracted in the blissful state of wedlock with a beautiful young lady. Yet the school , it seems, caters to delinquent young men and the headmaster appears to assume that I am one such. I have ceased to protest for fear of his cane, which he and the staff use viciously to deal with any minor infraction or even annoyance. Most of my ‘class’ appear to be well into the age of majority, and have advised me to ‘buckle down and take it’, so beaten into submission are their poor spirits.

My own spirit is flagging somewhat, I will admit, under the oppression I suffer daily. As you know, dearest Bess,
since I recall you remarking on it with a smile when I mentioned the fact, my own school had a more progressive outlook and so the canings, cold showers and country runs are taking a terrible toll on my physique, not to mention my mental state, which alternates between terror of a forthcoming thrashing and tedium as I complete the mindless rote-learning tasks that pass for instruction in this benighted institution. I have been here not more than three weeks, yet already I have written over five thousand lines! Yes, my dearest, lines: it apears modern educational theories have yet to reach whatever godforsaken corner of Northern England holds me captive.

Furthermore, several of the tutors take… liberties with the ‘boys’ that I will not commit to paper for fear of being prosecuted for penning an obscene publication – and are in so sense fit to mention to a young lady, even one with
such enlightened ideas as I was pleased if somewhat shocked to experience on our wedding night.

I am handing this missive to a groundsman, to whom I have entrusted the last of my secreted funds. I can only
hope and pray you see it and intervene with your uncle before the end of the week, when I have been promised the thrashing of a lifetime.

I kiss the air and pray for your well-being, my love, my only dearest.

Your ever-faithful

Harold.

Goodness. Marion, my darling, will you bring me paper and pen? I need to write to my uncle. Is the boy who delivered this still waiting downstairs?

Excellent. Give him some supper. Tell him I want him personally to deliver my letter to Uncle Frederick, will you? I’m sure Uncle Fred will enjoy dealing with him himself. Honestly: taking money from pupils to deliver letters. You can’t trust anyone these days.

Oh – and that reminds me: we need to pay Harold’s school-fees for the rest of the year. Apparently after this first year, we can set up a trust which pays the fees in perpetuity, so we don’t need to be bothered with it again.

But we can sort that out tomorrow. Run my bath, will you Marion dearest? And get in: I’ll join you there when I’m done with this.

Historical behaviour

Mmmm… So, acting on numerous readers’ requests I fired up the old time portal to try to grab a few more glimpses from our future. But regular ‘readers’ of this blog will know that my time machine is about as effective and reliable as everything else I possess and this time it seems to have veered off into the past. The dial flicked between the 1930s and the nineteenth century, before breaking off and rolling into a corner of the cellar where my chain isn’t long enough to reach, so I’m afraid I have no idea when these originated.

I have a feeling this has happened before, though. Long, long ago….

Too late to reconsider

(no one’s gonna wanna know yer… trigger warning: vanilla video unrelated to femdom)

It took him ages to get her interested in golf, you know.

Men can be such drama queens. Getting upset over the littlest things.

Oh, OK. As long as I know. Thanks.

What a sad little caption. Sad little servitor wrote it.

Press them but not mount them.

There must be an angel

(playing with my heart)

It’s amazing what you can achieve with a little thoughtfulness and the daily touch of a razor-sharp blade.

When the cat’s away, the mice will.. well, do their chores and write lines, by the look of it.

Sometimes these things are just, well, involuntary aren’t they? It’s not that she wants to burn your hand with the iron – she just feels a compulsion.

She’s probably joking. Don’t you think she’s joking?

There are more hot chicks in empire-line dresses right here, if that’s your thing. According to Google, though, I’m the only person in the world for whom “hot chicks in empire-line dresses” is a thing, so maybe not.

The Rights of Man

They’re somewhat limited, around here, you’ll find. But we like it that way.

Well, you’ll find anyway, as they’re due round for a drink later.

Hmmm. Looks to me like one person’s doing all the work in this relationship.

And she’s got plenty of time to think of some too – she’s not due back until Tuesday.

Should never have lent her that copy of 50 Shades…

Maybe she can share her literary passions with him when they’re married.

It is a truth universally acknowledged…

…that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a good hard spanking

Contemplating the Divine goes Jane Austen for the day! Yes! Captioned images of Regency female domination. Hot chicks in empire-line dresses! Well-born males degradingly forced to engage in social intercourse with ladies below their proper station! Wild tea dances!

Remember, you saw it here first! And probably last.

Don’t worry, back to the leather boots and miniskirts tomorrow, I expect. But with taste, always with taste.

Incidentally, stats are now working again (hello – I can see you, in aggregate anyway). Blogger said it was a ‘known problem’. If I’ve been given a chore by my Significant Other, didn’t do it and just said it was a ‘known problem’ when She pointed it out, I wouldn’t expect to get away with it. I’d expect a beating. But then I’ve always been lucky that way.