Stories and pictures themed around female domination and male subjugation and servitude. Unsuitable for children, for alpha males, for hard-core practitioners with an interest in the politics of bdsm and the mechanics of complicated rope work. Of interest to perverts like me, basically.
You often hear it said that women don’t really care about cock size and that’s certainly been my experience. Most women I’ve dated have made clear to me that the size of my cock is of no interest or practical significance whatever, as far as they are concerned.
In the modern world, men have to learn to be supportive if they want to remain useful.
Oh, you can stick with being Number 13. You’re already among the luckiest men alive, to be one of her paypigs, so I don’t think you need to worry about anything bad happening.
Men don’t really do irony. Screaming and begging for mercy, that’s what they do.
Who is also the lovely Samantha Alexander, here being delightful and non-dominational in a video introduced by (formerly Strict Miss) Zoe Page. So regrettably vanilla, although so captivating in appearance and voice and the line “We’re not in Chesterfield any more” gets extra points for Britishness. Does anyone know if the other lady, Charlotte Elizabeth, is also a domme? She looks kinda dommey.
Now he has to endure that agonising pause while he awaits her reply. She’s really good at agonising pauses.
It took a while for me to get used to our D/S dynamic in restaurants. I used to get embarassed at being so publicly submissive – even over what are actually practical and necessary things like, for example, my SO requesting that my food be given a quick whizz in the liquidiser so it can more easily pass through my feeding funnel. But you soon realise that the waitresses just don’t care: they’ve got jobs to do, after all.
That’s awfully generous of her.
I can do some quite spectacular things with it. Just not while having sex. Or at least, spectacular things have occasionally been done to it, by mischievous and highly creative people.
She has a keenly attuned sense of what your needs really are.
She’s got a little whip on which each of the thongs is studded with diamonds cut into sharp little points. Some might think that’s overdoing it, but she thinks it and the marks that it leaves are pretty and as long as she likes it, really who is to question her taste? Not me, certainly.
Form an orderly queue by the stage door…. Hey! I said an orderly queue! Look, if you can’t even follow simple instructions, she’s hardly likely to …
Oddly enough, I was actually engaged in SPH play years before I even knew what it was – in the school changing room, for instance. I guess I’m just a natural.
Don’t worry, she generally just takes little light puffs, she doesn’t pull on it to drag it down quickly. Unless she’s had a hard day or something like that, obviously.
In a very real sense, marriage to her is a stress position, so it’s all good practice.
I find being on a leash quite reassuring. My SO got one of those extendable ones – you know, that have a kind of wheel that can pay out to allow the pet to run off some way – and I have to say, I felt almost agoraphobic with it on. Unfortunately, it broke one day when I was fetching it, and after a good hard discussion of why ‘it broke’ I was dragged out of the door on the good old chain.
Bunnies are actually savage little creatures. True fact (read Watership Down). Perhaps that’s what inspires these lovely ladies.
Hmm… looks like Jake was a bit surprised by that! He really shouldn’t have been – anyone could have guessed that Bluetooth connectivity was likely to come up. Now he’s going to get all embarrassed by having his ignorance shown up right there on stage.
Oooh… 50% of the way there! That’s closer than I’ve ever got.
It’s not as high-margin a business as you might expect, but fortunately some of her labour costs are very low indeed. Speaking of which, have you negotiated your salary yet? No? OK.
From the look of the sea, they’ve got ages… which is just as well, because Julie can be quite slow to get aroused, unless she can use her cattle prod.
Every poet should have a muse. This lucky lad has two.
And let’s not have any old-fashioned patriarchal nonsense about ‘earning’ it, OK? It’s not your salary, not now you’re married.
You might find it hard to imagine you’ll forget you’re wearing something as heavy and bulky as that, but believe me: once the nipple clamps go on and the scrotal ring is properly anchored to your ankle chain, you’ll hardly notice it.
Try to keep the explanation brief when you do get the chance; she’s going to want to get on.
Thank goodness someone with common sense has stepped in to take charge.
This wonderful lady is Miss Tamara Kenworthy, also known as Samantha Alexandra (but not in any pictures you and I are allowed to look at).
It’s a good thing Kitty’s there for her, because she’s going to need comforting as she tries to adjust to a life without a male partner. Kitty’s good at that.
Ah, that’ll be why she’s not letting you masturbate, then. Feel free to ask if you want a half-way quickie wank: I’m sure she’ll give it careful consideration.
They do say there are no ponts for coming second, but then girls often dislike it when you come first too, so you can’t win. Not that it’s a competition – as my first date pointed out when I challenged her to race me to orgasm (I would have won, if she hadn’t cheated by kicking me so hard in the balls).
Terrible pun? Yeah, I suppose it is: like I said, Servitor’s back. The material’s only going to get worse. It’s actually not Servitor’s back, in case you were wondering, but it looks like it belongs to someone almost as annoying.
So, normal service resumes. Oh… one small change. You’re probably all only too aware of the inflation that many countries have suffered over the last few years. Everything’s just going up, up, up. Well, I’m afraid Contemplating the Divine is no exception. I’ve tried to hold things as they are for as long as I can, but it’s time to reflect reality, so I regret to have to announce that from now on there will be six images in every post, not five.
I know, I know and I can only apologise. You’re just going to have to cope.
Most of the attractive guys have already been taken, I suppose.
Their champion in the high-heeled kickboxing would have won gold too, but she was unlucky enough to have a Russian male drawn as her target in the final, got a little over-excited and had to forfeit that match when the target died. Everyone sympathised but rules are rules. Her opponent, the Australian, deliberately kicked her own target to death when she saw what had happened, in a lovely display of sportswomanship, so they shared silver.
She’s not looking for an ally, more of a conquered subject.
He’s obviously having second thoughts, and they’re fine with that. My own SO always says that if ever I find the pain too much, I am welcome to regret doing whatever led to the whipping. And if it really gets unbearable, she always says I should tell her.
Mistress Sidonia and Lady Sophia Black, in the scene above, both quite wonderful. That’s quite in the sense of ‘very’ not in the sense of ‘just a little’. Why no link to Lady Sophia Black’s website, Twitter feed, Instagram or Only Fans profile you may ask? Because she has retired and the world is a sadder and less beautiful, if also less painful and humiliating, place as a result.
Usually they bring one over and grind it at your table, I understand.
His packets of condoms say ‘large’* so he’s always assumed…. well, anyway, Annie** set him straight as she has so many men.
* Although the stereotype is that condoms only come in sizes ‘large’, extra large’, ‘jumbo’ and so on (the point of the feeble joke in the caption if you didn’t get it – you’re welcome) there are actually condom manufacturers who specialise in the, erm… less over-developed male. Brands such as ‘Teenie peenies’, ‘It’s what you do with it that matters’, ‘Just right’ and of course ‘Fun-size’ are all condoms made to fit snugly on even the smallest… well, OK, maybe the second-smallest male out there. They’re quite expensive but the economics of the business are absolutely terrible: most of their clients will buy one or at most two packets in a lifetime, so they need to cover a lot of overhead. Fortunately, the cost of the rubber is very low – less than a fifth as much is used in the ones I buy as in the average-sized condom, they claim, which is environmentally very sound.
She did initially feel some sympathy… well, pity, anyway, which is practically the same thing.
To be fair, a dentist trying to act as a professional dominatrix for the first time would probably feel a bit unsure of herself too. It’s best to ignore those fearful, nagging voices that say you can’t do it and just have a go.
My SO once made me lick my own feet clean, after a long day’s pony-play. As I’m in my fifties, you might imagine I’m not supple enough easily to get a foot to my mouth, and you’d be right, but fortunately she had a strong bondage harness that could bring disparate parts of my body closer together and with a lot of effort she finally managed to get me buckled into a position where I could reach. The funniest thing was when she released me just a few short hours after I’d finished cleaning my feet: I couldn’t walk and had to lurch around bent double, for a couple of days. How we laughed! Well, one of us did anyway: the one who matters.
She’s quite possessive about stuff; has a controlling personality. She knows about it and tries not to go too far, but mostly she takes the view that people around her just have to learn to accept it.
I think it’s really important that couples should discuss these things. Many ladies new to chastity play might be surprised just how much fun they can have, talking to their partner about the frequency of release or the likelihood of its being imminent.
Always such a rush… I mean, you wait all year for Christmas, then…
Many submissive men are rather bad at shorthand, which is a shame as most dominant ladiies really enjoy dictating.
I once jokily asked a domme if she did ‘big penis humiliation’ – and rather to my surprise she said she did, although as it turned out most of the actual work in-session was done by her friend Marcus.
No, no… don’t make me sniff that stinky stocking, Brer Mistress!
If you’re crying more often than you’re coming you’ve reached next-level sub status. Either that or you’re much too young to be reading this blog.
Interestingly (well… as near to being interesting as anything gets on this damp and flaccid excuse for a blog), the word ‘weal’ means both ‘a ridge or mark on flesh raised with a blow of a whip’ and ‘wealth or happiness’. Which to my mind – like the fact that ‘stroke’ means both a caress and the lash of a whip – just goes to show that there’ve been subbies around for as long as the English language has existed. Chaucer’s ‘The Ffyndomme’s Tayle’ being a case in point, I suppose, or Shakespeare’s ‘Loves Labours Forced.’
Anyway.
Captions.
Interestingly, that rather racy outfit she’s wearing is modeled on that worn by Playboy’s Playmate of the Month from October 1842.
Attentive ‘readers’ will obviously have recognised the compassionate and sweet-tempered Cassie Hunter, the Hunteress. You can tell she is feeling particularly merciful and forgiving, on this occasion, from the gentle smile on her lips.
Honestly, if her sissy were a bit more familiar with orgasms himself he might have realised how totally inappropriate that request was. Not that I’m excusing his selfish behaviour, you understand.
I’ve never really understood what ‘SPH play’ really consists of. I mean, if we’re not doing ‘SPH play’ what’s she going to talk about – the weather?
Sometimes she puts a little extra in. Other times she takes a little extra out.