too small to satisfy anyone – Contemplating the divine

There’s only one thing I wanna do

I wanna get back home to you. Yes, Servitor’s back!

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.

** Yeah, Annie. Instructions from Herself.

Delightfully unpleasant

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.

Stocking fillers

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.

Sexual wealing

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.

What, all of them?

Unrelenting love

Don’t worry: what it lacks in teasing, it makes up in denial.

My gender doesn’t so much sit on a spectrum as cower timidly beneath one.

He’s a bit dim too, to be honest. Well… thick as two short planks, to be quite brutal about it. But she doesn’t seem to mind that, oddly.

I think she might have had an idea.

Many women just hate it when important discussions are side-tracked by irrelevant opinions. My SO has very low tolerance for that sort of thing, which is unfortunate as all my opinions are irrelevant.

Feminine ferocity

It’s important to think about her needs, not just your own selfish desire not to be in agony.

To be fair, many femdom activities seem unlikely to be compatible with evolutionary success. Chastity, for one.

Oh good. I wonder what it is.

She has testimonials from several hundred eternally unsatisfied clients to prove it.

I’ll go to the end of the line, then.

Opinionated

The ‘any more’ is a bit of a stretch too, to be perfectly honest.

Safety first is the golden rule in a hard whipping scene of course: always remember to thank your domme politely or it can get quite nasty.

Nice to be the centre of attention for once, I suppose.

To be fair, I don’t actually known whether I’d be bad at sex or not, but as my SO so wisely says: why risk it?

Don’t worry: the safety-first rule applies here too. She’ll make sure she puts the chain on the door and looks out through the spyhole before opening the door to a stranger, don’t you worry.

Mocking the weak

Some scenes we’d like to see.

Reminds me of my very first date… the girl I was with kept on comparing my penis size with that of this other guy she knew. Or maybe she’d never met him before… I don’t know actually. He was a bit embarrassed about the whole situation, but she offered him a blow job so he went along with it.

Now you are an grown man and have put childish things behind you. Haven’t you?

There are lots of things I’m better at than I am at sex. In fact, almost an infinite number.

Oh I don’t know. Seems to me to have done pretty well. Anyway, you never know, they might get back together now they’ve found a modus vivandi.

Plenty of orgasms in that household. Does one more or less per month really make that much of a difference?

Angels and devils

My SO hates being accused of cruelty – she’d rather be thanked for it.

Maybe Susie will call you – you know, to even the score?

It’s odd seeing your own cock, scaled up by 300%. Odder still to feel it.

Honestly, does it really matter? I mean, the script doesn’t specify exactly what it is, so it’s hardly going to affect the finished production.

The lovely ladies of Cruella, of course. Enjoying the balmy English summertime, there.

The needle looks a little scary, but really don’t worry: it’s nothing compared to the other stuff that’s planned.

True love’s first slap

She’s vegan because she can’t abide cruelty, except under carefully-controlled conditions. Her blonde friend there isn’t so fastidious, so I’ve heard.

It can be quite tedious for our superiors, having to wait to let the dread build up. Thank goodness she has someone to keep her company,

There’s such a gap between language and reality, the way men talk about sex. Like – a guy might say that he’s got something hard between his legs but I’ll bet it’s nothing like as hard as what I’ve got between mine.


For a long time, I can honestly claim I had ‘never had any complaints’ from women, sexually speaking, but then there was the shocking experience of my first date. Still, so far only one woman has ever actually told me on the basis of experience that I’m bad at sex, all the others have just played it safe.

I can’t imagine how he was expecting to get through passport control, naked with his wrists shackled behind him to a wooden bar locked around his bollocks. I mean, he doesn’t even have proof of his posiitve PCR test.