Category: lady in red

You must submit to supreme suffering in order to discover the completion of joy

John Calvin said that, kinky little slut that he was.

Scurry scurry….
I hope that isn’t real fur. It’s cruel, you know.
Oh, I hate sissy play-dates, don’t you? Sometimes I’d rather just be left at home, chained up on the back porch. But my preferences don’t enter into it.
I don’t see what isn’t sexy about any of that.
He should take her seriously. Very, very seriously.
You could ask. What’s the worst that can happen?

So this is what makes life divine

Fairy tales… yes, more fairy tales. But there’s a theme today. See if you can guess what it is.

No prizes, of course, for spotting the theme (any who didn’t, please go and book a session with a suitably severe lady to be beaten for stupidity). All fairy tales should feature breathtakingly beautiful princesses, wicked queens, clever heroines and evil and sadistic villains – how much simpler the author’s task when all of those are combined in one, wonderful, elegant and… well, divine form.

Art is born of humiliation

And so is unoriginal, mediocre crap like this.

Adapting your behaviour’s really easy. In fact, if you just go with the flow, she’ll adapt it for you. [P.S. Don’t you love her t-shirt? I wrote the caption, for which the image was already perfect, before I’d noticed it.]
There are many things he’d like her to do. He’s learnt to cope with disappointment, though.
One fact-checking organisation did give Contemplating The Divine a 7% rating for truthful reliability, but that was focused on a few posts in which I’d exposed and deprecated my own sexual and other inadequacies… a more representative selection of posts would probably put it about 1%… maybe 2.
You could say no…. even to Sven. But imagine that disappointed face, hmmm?
The most important part of the session – handing over the tribute – went without a hitch, so anything else is best regarded as an extra.
Her predictions usually come to pass. She’s brutally honest with them, too: doesn’t hold back from giving bad news.

This image (and associated Femme Fatale movie) is of a truly historic event, in featuring Mistress Eleise de Lacy and Lady Sophia Black together. Two of the most beautiful, talented and creative dommes ever. Servitor has had the extraordinary honour of serving both wonderful ladies in person, but never together… that, I think, would have made my head and probably several other body parts explode.

Pleading hearts

Don’t worry if you’re not ‘man enough to take it’, that won’t bother her in the least.
If it gets too irritating, she could always turn it into one of those cults where everyone kills themselves. Or I suppose she could just stop reading their prayer-filled messages on social media… Anyway, she has options.
She’ll see the funny side eventually.
That’s the third time Mistress ‘forgot’ this month. She never used to be that forgetful. I do hope she’s all right.
If it’s really the nails that are bothering you, she could use screws? Or just industrial glue, I suppose, but that would be a lot less fun for her.
Or have a sissy-fight over it, with lots of shrieking and hair-pulling.

One day, you will be old enough to start reading fairytales again

More escapist captions from a fantasy, fairytale world – so unlike the strict adherence to realism that characterises the majority of this blog’s material.

Oh well, looks like no one needs rescuing, then. I suppose you can just go away again.
If you’d like to rootle for a few acorns as you trot along, she’s fine with that too.
Why don’t men think these things through before wishing? Are they stupid?
She’d be taking a bit of a risk… I hope she doesn’t get in any trouble for it.
I’d protect her with my mighty sword, innocent maiden disguise or no. But then, ‘the hard way’ might be quite fun, too.
It’s only fair: she did warn her.

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…
She’s right, of course. They both are.

It’s beginning to look a lot like femdom

Goddess bless us, one and all!

Get that excited happy face ready! Nothing worse than handing someone a present you think they’ll be excited about and they’re just ‘meh’. Well, there actually are worse things at Christmas than that, believe me, especially after my mother-in-law’s had a bit too much to drink, but that kind of let down is pretty bad, is what I’m saying. And I’m sure you don’t want to disappoint the lovely lady.
To be honest, some of the party games the guys let me join in aren’t all that fun for me. ‘Pin the tail on the donkey’, for instance – I’m sure it’s not really supposed to be played like that.
Christmas is a time for giving – she understands that. And if she’s got some piggies left over who aren’t completely drained yet, why not share the joy?
It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
Just wait until everyone sees your fairy dance routine!
I hope any female readers will spare a thought for all those subs spending Christmas alone… chained up in the cellar, locked away in a punishment cupboard or just put into a burlap sack and tossed in the corner, forgotten and ignored. Hundreds of them, thousands maybe… uncomfortable and miserable. Isn’t that a lovely thought? What a shame it’s only once a year.
Some parents like to pretend the castration fairy isn’t real, but we know she is, don’t we readers?

When she clicks her fingers

I can simultaneously be desperate, lazy and incompetent, can’t I? I thought women were in favour of multitasking.
I think her defeated male opponents are just sore losers.
Teachers love hearing from their former pupils, especially ones who have gone on to develop successful businesses or professional careers.
Try to enter the spirit of the thing by being horribly embarassed and hating every moment. Remember: they’re laughing at you not with you.

Image reminds me of my favourite ever search term, back when this blog was on blogger (you got to see search terms that led ‘readers’ there), which was “tutu humiliation -bishop -desmond”.

He was also going to report them for smoking in a public building, so they use him to dispose of the evidence.
I don’t see what’s crazy about that. I mean it’s a nice car, but…

Control the beast

You should care about her a lot more than she cares about you. But you probably do anyway, even without realising it.
It’s only about 40 minutes walk, in those high heels. And at her very reasonable tribute rates, that’s only a little more expensive than taking… oh, a helicopter, I suppose?
Don’t worry, they’ve all given their consent: in fact, they renew that consent in a lovely little ceremony every morning, just after the 5am work detail finishes.
Oooh – that’ll be your first discussion as a married couple! I wonder if it will feel different?
In the event, Treasure decided to keep the jar. It’s not that she wants to look at the disgusting thing, but she said she likes to know it’s there, you know? And I suppose it has sentimental value for you, too, so maybe she was thinking of that as well.
I hope the boys appreciate how pretty it is, this time, rather than just ripping it off.

Ladies in red

Title says it all…

It’s a long staircase… plenty of room for more memories. Let’s hope these ones are happier, as she does seem awfully unlucky, the poor thing.
Waste not want not… you’ll be boiling that up with some dirty socks for your supper, later.
I think it’ll be a lot easier. Leaves you more time to concentrate on the things that matter.
If it makes her more comfortable, where’s the harm in it?
Sometimes it can be hard to get to the right answer, but it’s always easier when there’s a woman to tell you what it is.
In German, the verb is always at the end of a sentence which must make for tense conversations with disciplinarians.
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