











C’est le 14 juillet, et nous célébrons les déesses républicaines françaises telles que Marianne et… euh…

Liberté, Egalité, Sororité!
Bon, je pense que ça suffit pour la langue française aujourd’hui.
Captions with a vaguely French connection, anyway.


As the label might indicate to even the most male-brained reader, this is of course the magnificent, elegant and beautiful Ibicella, who can be found, worshipped and, ideally, donated to at the address shown. And here she is being adorable.

And do I really need to mention this is Mistress Eleise? Look, I like maple syrup as much as the next slave, but I can tell you: it is not Canada’s greatest export. I’ve tried both.



P.S. Allez les Bleus! Mais aussi les lions anglais…
P.P.S. OK, so the Bleus didn’t really allez. Or not as much as the Spanish went ándale ándale ándale anyway. So to cheer up any depressed frenchmen – or heterosexual males of any sort, I imagine – here’s the lovely Ibicella, being patriotic.







Incidentally, I understand Armpit Fetishist Monthly put out an entire special edition on that tattoo on Ms Johansson’s right arm, there. As the editor said at the time ‘When you’ve got the story of the century, you don’t wait for publication day!’
Which is obviously fine, humanity being properly reserved for humans not apes or maggots.






Incidentally, my captions here often feature the wonderful Mistress Eleise (with whom I had the pleasure and pain in Paris of a session or three) objecting to blonde jokes. But that’s just my invention. Maybe she really likes them, collects them and treasures examples in which the blonde is being particularly dumb? If anyone visits Canada and if she’s still working, do try a few out and let us know how it goes.
It makes you understand very quickly.
Leopold von Sacher-Masoch wrote that. He knew a thing or two, that lad. They should name something after him, to commemorate his life and work.





Cruellan (and Goddessian) material continues to become more and more available. Go check out the ‘SLOC’ programme and download gigbytes of sneering, beatings and delicious unpleasantness – and there are ever more magazines. ‘Is it free’? No it’s not free, you cheapskate, and nor are the best things in life. Like a lot of this stuff, though, I’m sure it’s vastly cheaper than it used to be when these things were bought wrapped in flowery paper in a Soho shop and carried home in shaking hands and breathless anticipation.







Today’s special celebrates that most elegant of female footwear (and ankle, calf and, excitingly, occasionally thighwear): the boot. As well as looking and tasting lovely, boots are highly practical and can be used for all kinds of kicking, crushing and treading underfoot. Plus, they’re so easy to get clean and the wearer can even be paid while waiting for the process to be completed to her satisfaction. Boots boots boots boots…*


The delightful Princess Neive, whom I deeply regret never having had the chance to meet when she was working. There are videos of her around… listen to her lovely giggle.




Occasionally I put found femdom down here. Now this isn’t found femdom. It’s just a funny little video imagining vikings with modern Scandinavian accents and attitudes. But if you watch to the end, the last second or so is just a little bit Contemplating the Divine. Just a little. But it’s not worth skipping to the end, just watch the video if you think the ‘modern viking’ thing sounds amusing and treat the last moment as a bonus.
More feeble attempts at Far Side style humour, or at least captions that seem even less firmly strapped down onto reality than usual.






… choose your own ending. Or ask someone from a more competent sex to choose for you.












…and an extra one, which I wrote in a particularly worshipful mood.

… although actually that’s not true (like many things on this blog), because obviously in session you can get away with calling her ‘Mistress’. Which was just as well for me, as I’d always assumed it was some variant of ‘El-ee-ssa’. I was granted the extraordinary privilege of visiting Mistress Eleise three or four times about ten years ago and I never did realise I was saying her name wrong in my head until I heard her say it in a video, quite recently. Fortunately, I never committed the unforgiveable sin of mispronouncing her name out loud, to her very feet (oh, those feet…). Not that it got me out of the slappings (and the mocking… oh, that mocking!) I so thoroughly deserved.