Uncategorised – Contemplating the divine

Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly

Their beauty shakes me who was once serene; Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.

I realise that Sunday’s posts tend to be themed and this is only loosely themed, since most of the ladies featured on this blog do have eyes, usually two of them (except in the stranger sci-fi or ‘further side’ captions) and the eyes, like everything else about them, are usually great. But it does get a bit more specifically themed, towards the end, you’ll see.

Hey – well done you! First time your sexual perfomance has really satisfied her. Let’s hope it’s the first of many.

Mixed signals can even end up in slavery contracts. For example, my first contract ruled out having cigarettes stubbed out on me as a hard limit, but it also said that my purpose in life was to please my SO, including sexually. Quite a dilemma – but she dealt with it decisively, as she so often does.

Many men prefer women of moderate size in that regard, but you wouldn’t think so from looking at online porn.

It’s actually much nicer not to have a financial allowance, I find, as you don’t have to bother yourself with budgeting and suchlike and it really helps develop those pleading skills, which are all-important in a successful relationship. Plus there’s much less danger of buying anything she might not approve of, which is just one less anxiety to worry about, isn’t it?

Don’t worry: you’ll get a new name. And if you ever forget it (and you will, lacking any long-term memory), just strip naked and ask someone who knows how to read to tell you.

Actually, Anya quite likes submissives, in their proper place.

The above refers of course to….

By the way, truth imitates art, reality imitates fiction and all that sort of thing, right? As is so infrequently demonstrated on this blog, whose predictions are scarily inaccurate. But Anya…

OK, look, do I think she’s really the lifestyle domme / female supremacist of my dreams? No, alas, probably not. But do I think she knows perfectly well what effect some of her outfits have on a certain male demographic? Oh yes, I totally do. As I pointed out before, so these are just a few more:

OK, that one was because she’d just been in a Mad Max movie. But the rest…?

Could be taken from a Woman Worship shoot. Not AI to the best of my knowledge?

… and… and even when it’s not specifically the clothes, it’s the look, it’s the attitude. Right? I mean…

…and… and…

I mean, sure you *can* caption the image with her saying something chastity-themed (I think I have) but it doesn’t actually need the caption, does it?

Of course although the dominatrix and ice maiden looks will have 90% of male submissives essentially catatonic with awed desire, there’s still the more sissy-oriented minority in our community who are unlikely to respond to… oh hang on, never mind:

… and surely any findomme would kill for an image like this on her web site:

Sigh…

Well-managed relationships

Oh – a CtD post on a Thursday! Hmm, you say. Must be an extra, because Servitor is celebrating the blog’s fifteenth anniversary. And certainly not because silly Servitor messed up the dates in scheduling the posts and thought 29 January was a Friday and noticed too late to delete it, as Sam had already commented. No no no no no… So, yeah, an extra post, because Friday’s post ~~hurriedly recscheduled from later in February~~ will obviously come out as normal tomorrow.

They say the secret of a successful relationship is mutual respect. Which just goes to show how little ‘they’ know. She says the secret of a successful relationship is tyranny and fear and I really can’t disagree with her on that.

Findommes… the unsung heroines of the consumer economy.

It’s funny, back when I was dating, two of the girls I – OK, OK *both* of the girls I slept with – rated my perfomance as the ‘worst fuck in human history’. Which doesn’t strike me as being right, as one of those fucks must have been worse than the other. Of course, I’m using ‘sleep’ as a euphemism – I never actually ‘slept’ with them, if you know what I mean: they threw me out. But not before I’d had my eighteen seconds of passion!

He didn’t wonder why she was constructing a prison cell in the cellar? Ah, love makes one blind. So does masturbation, ‘they’ say, although my SO says red-hot needles are actually more effective.

I wonder… have any subs who’ve been in this situation ever been tempted to stop brushing for just a moment, turn the hairbrush round and administer a sharp, stinging… I mean, I’m not saying I have, of course! Just to be clear, ahem. But it’s like – or I *imagine* it *would* be like – that feeling you get standing on the edge of a cliff, you know? That you could just… jump. Only a lot more dangerous than that, obviously.

Ah, Gigi Allens. A lady with plenty of inches and strong hips to back them up.

Yes, what a touching story. I like to imagine that every time she sees them sparkle, she’s reminded of how she has lots of other lovely necklaces too. Long-time readers will of course be well aware that my visions of the future show that in her political career, President Annie will re-orient male vocational training towards traditional, manly, backbreaking labour or domestic tasks, so really the college fund was no loss.

Straight talk

Today, as part of the 15th birthday celebrations, I am delighted to present an interview with an actual female supremacist! Please welcome Dr Lydia Hatchard, Emeritus Professor of Gender Studies at the University of West Sussex!

Servitor: Dr Hatchard: welcome to the blog.

Dr Lydia Hatchard: What the hell is this? When I agreed to do the interview, I was told this was a women’s rights blog. I’m not going to have anything to do with a porn site.

S: Well, err, Ma’am, I –

LH: Don’t call me Ma’am. It’s Dr Hatchard.

S: Oh, err, sorry, Dr Hatchard, Ma’am, sorry sorry, didn’t mean to call you –

LH: Most of your posts feature young women lounging around half-dressed, or uncomfortably constrained in tacky fetishistic costumes or absurd high heels and the like. Classic exploitative objectification of the female form for male titillation! And the captions focus on sexualised interactions in a way that denies agency – or any true personhood – to the supposedly female speakers who are just male fantasy stereotypes. It’s the most sexist thing I’ve ever seen.

S: Well, I…

LH: Heard of the Bechdel test? When do any of your captions feature two women talking about something other than a man? It’s just wank-fodder.

S: Of course, I can see that, but –

LH: Not to mention the repeated focus on feminine traits and traditional female ocupations as markers of shame. How can you claim to regard women as superior, if being treated as a woman is a humiliation?

S: Umm. I suppose, maybe, ummm, it could be seen as an ironic –

LH: Nonsense, you can’t just excuse sexism by waving your hand and saying ‘irony’, like those so-called comedians who ‘ironically’ tell old-fashioned sexist jokes.

S: No, I wasn’t trying to –

LH:And the homophobia! ‘Forced bi’? Really? I don’t know which is worse, regarding gay sexuality as a punishment, or making light of rape!

S: Uh, yes, I…

LH: And how come 99% of the women are white? Don’t you –

Ha ha – ahem! Wow… what a shame, it seems our Internet connection with Dr Hatchard has accidentally been cut. Just when the interview was going so well.

Still that was… ummm… well, that was illuminating. Challenging, perhaps, or a little, umm… humiliating, even. Yes, yes: humiliating, that’s the word. Mmmm. What a severe, stern, harsh lady she seems to be. Why, I can almost imagine her in a lecture room, striding around in high heels, wearing a strict blouse and pencil skirt, stopping to pick up an implement of correction and then lowering her glasses to look over them at the squirming males in her class, as she…she…

PS – On the ‘Bechdel test’ (“requiring a work to have at least two named women who have a conversation about something other than a man”), had I been quicker witted and more inclined to disagree with a member of the superior sex, I could have pointed out to Dr Hatchard that although it is true to say women on this blog often talk about men, it is very rare for males to speak at all, and I cannot think of a single caption I have done in which two males have had a conversation about anything other than a woman (usually one standing over the two of them with a whip). But I’m neither and didn’t.

PPS – A little bit of found femdom, for anyone who has made it this far down today’s tedious self-loathing post. What a lovely lady, to devote herself to supporting such a worthwhile cause.

Why are we still here?

It is fifteen years since this blog launched, with a post whose brilliantly creative title still dazzles across all these years: Why are we here?

That post does not feature among the best the blog has produced, but under the lash of my lovely overseer’s whip, I have quarried out a few milestones from each of the years this blog has managed, against all expectations and logic, to continue to exist.

Just to warn you about links to badly-formatted posts below… one of the least interesting milestones for this blog is that it transferred from Blogger to WordPress in 2023 because Google decided it was too naughty for ordinary people to see. So any posts before that were imported en masse using a WordPress tool. It worked reasonably well, but the formatting of text is awful, the resolution of images on the main pages is bad (click on them to see them properly) and although people’s comments are there, each post says there are zero comments.

OK? Not my fault if the old posts look crap. Blame Google. Right: on with the milestones.

2011 saw lots of firsts on this blog, obviously, since that was the year it started and it started in January. But June 2011 was the first post featuring actual heart-stopping beauty, Miss Hathaway (whom I disgracefully – against wishes she has repeatedly stated perfectly clearly – called Anne, not her preferred ‘Annie’). But that wasn’t her first appearance in the blog, as the Blogger version had a different layout, with a footer image, which was the lady herself, reclinging languidly (hence the reference in the linked post to looking down at the bottom of the page – this is the image).

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2011/06/captivating/

2012… oh what happened in 2012? Goodness, I can’t remember. I suppose, I was young, free and sing- … no, that’s not right. Young and fr-… no. OK, just young, then. Younger anyway. But then I was younger yesterday too, so what’s new? The caption below appeared in 2012. I like it.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2012/09/little-things-that-make-her-laugh-2/

2013 saw the appearance of Turning Points! Fresh and original at the time, tired and hackneyed today, like so much else in the blog and, if we’re honest, life. But it was good, for a bit, and still very occasionally is.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2013/09/turning-points/

2014 saw the first post in a series motivated by nostalgia for former days: OWK Ladies Remember. The original OWK ladies – not the modern visitors such as Mistresses Courtney, Ezada and Sophia, wonderful as they are all. Reminiscing to a supposed interviewer about the grand old days of weird hats, slaves with mad moustaches in concentration camp uniforms and frankly a career that the lovely ladies cannot reasonably have anticipated, as happy little Young Pioneers growing up under communism a few years before. And now here I am reminiscing about the OWK ladies reminiscing. I reckon nostalgia’s just not as good these days, have you noticed?

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2014/10/owk-memories/

Incidentally, 2014 also featured the generic Contemplating The Divine post, that anyone can use (or nowadays simply feed an AI) to churn this stuff out forever.

2015 featured lots of stuff, including one of my favourite science fiction themed captions, ever. I don’t know what it is about this one that… oh yes I do. Anyway, obviously there have been lots of science fiction captions, because I’m ~~a sad little nerd who gets excited about space and aliens and~~ an aficionado of the genre.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2015/07/like-lovers-do/

2016 saw an interesting departure for this blog, into the weird world of maledom / femsub play. Personally, I prefer my fantasies a little more realistic – I mean, if I tie a woman to my bed, to have my wicked way with her, how can she even unlock my chastity belt? And anyway, how would I find the time to dominate a woman with all that laundry still to be done? Be that as it may, I did one post featuring captioned images of submissive women and decided April 1st 2016 would be the perfect day to publish it. Back to ‘normal’ on April 2nd, obviously.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2016/04/female-submission-month/

2017… oh I don’t remember what I was doing in 2017. Looking at naughty pictures on the Internet and trying to think of captions, I expect, same as usual. I had previously published some pieces of advice, to subs and dommes or anyone foolish enough to think my opinion on anything might matter, really (of which this is my favourite) but in 2017 I published a travel guide for American subs visiting Europe that I still quite like. It needs updating, though… I’m sure there are some lovely strict dommes in Copenhagen who’d like nothing better than discussing Greenland with any visiting US patriot.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2017/08/if-its-friday-this-must-be-belgium/

2018 saw the outbreak of World War M. It’s been going on ever since.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2018/05/world-war-m/

2019 was mostly much the same as other years. It’s funny, it seems like almost every week my SO is kind enough to give me ‘a beating to remember’ but after a while they all merge into one hazy, vague screaming fit of desperate apologising, you know? Memory fails – and so do I, frequently. So here’s just one caption I found when perving around my 2019 posts, which I quite like. But then I like images of ladies wearing gymslips, you know? Rancid old creep that I am. Especially ladies who later successfully got two lots of alimony off a billionaire, like the lovely lady below (and here). Oh – and Debbie Harry. Obviously.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2019/05/penalty-and-repentance/

2020 was a strange year. There was that thing going on, remember? Yeah, that was quite a thing. I wrote some captions about the thing. (I also wrote my most popular story – The Lovelorn Blacksmith. There’s a sequel in 2025 but it’s not as good).

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2020/03/the-thing/

Incidentally, 2020 was the year I picked way back when as being sufficiently far in the future for President Hathaway to be elected for the first time, on the Female Supremacist ticket. Funny how things turn out. But my predictive powers have rarely been great – for instance, I often promise my SO I’ll do a good job on whatever menial chore she has generously ordered me to do for her, and then it turns out on inspection that I’ve done a very bad job. Happens all the time. So what do I know?

2021 mostly featured the usual tired old shit, but I do affectionately recall watching the TV adaptation of the late great Terry Pratchett’s Going Postal and noticing that Claire Foy looked remarkably like Mistress Darla, whom few of you have ever heard of (and those that have are probably too old even to celebrate her in the way you might want to). Two images of each of the lovely ladies in the composite image below – no prizes for spotting which is which because obviously the one brandishing the whip is the mainstream actress, not the dominatrix. I’ve found some other lookey-likeys over the years, some more plausible than others, but I still say Victoria Coren-Mitchell looks like Mistress Sidonia, and others do too, so there.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2021/11/late-delivery/

2022… I didn’t realise she would become a regular feature, I certainly didn’t realise she would become a viral Internet sensation as ‘Bentley Girl’ (OK, more of a minor meme to be fair) but 2022 saw the first appearance of ‘Kitten‘, a.k.a. the lovely Alla Bruletova who in real life I am sure is far from the deliciously self-centred and manipulative little findomme she is so unfairly depicted as on this blog.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2022/06/when-things-are-looking-good-theres-always-complications/

2023… really, did I start the 1980s called series as late as that? Good Lady, I thought it had been going for ever. Well, it seems I did. But I suppose it was inspired by the appearance – at last – of PDFs of almost the entire series of the Vixen and Magazines on which as a 20 year-old I had cut my… rubbed my… well, I’d enjoyed ‘reading’ them a lot anyway. They are now available to buy, and so are Cruella and Goddess, so my bucket list life goals are complete, as least as far as chasing down femdom porn on the Internet is concerned. And actually, my bucket never had much else in it.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2023/07/the-1980s-called/

I hadn’t started faking the actual magazine covers and ‘next issue’ boxes in that first post, so here’s a later one.

2024 featured the development of a couple of series that started in 2023 – The Hunt and The Facility – both essentially ~~excuses to feature long captions to images of ladies wearing riding boots~~ explorations of the social consequences of sexist behaviour, in the English countryside. If they started in 2023 why am I counting them as a 2024 milestone, you ask? Well… I dunno. Don’t you want to see the pictures of pretty ladies in riding outfits? Yes, I thought you would. So why quibble?

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2024/07/facility-management/

2025 was… recent. It featured the same sort of stuff the blog features now because, it is the blog now, essentially. There was quite a lot of Joy on this blog in 2025. Let’s show some of that Joy right now.

https://contemplatingthedivine.com/2025/06/fortune-favours-the-meek/

Sneak preview: lots of Joy coming here on 1st February! Mark your calendars.

2026 is… is now? Really? Already? Seems like such a futuristic date. Shouldn’t we have cool things like… flying cars and… and jetpacks… and a brutal totalitarian femsuprem government? Oh well, maybe one day. For now, here’s an image of Annie herself, first published, umm… now. To round off this… this (chortles) annieversary posting!

Right, that’ll do for nostalgia and annieversaries (oh my sides!), until 2041. Oh – but not quite. Tomorrow’s post will feature an interview with an actual Female Supremacist! Yay.

Beauty is power; a smile is its sword

The back is mostly devoted to warnings about how ugly the front is. But fortunately it’s quite hard to read through all the welts.

Those early feminist books were groundbreaking, but modern female supremacist thinking, with its emphasis on sexual inequality and the importance of women’s autonomy over their boys’ bodies, has moved on.

Their corporate philosophy is that every boy can progress to the absolute limit of his potential, with the right guidance and incentives.

And some sexists think that boys are better at quantitative skills than girls! I’d like to see them beat her at this game.

She doesn’t mind being stopped in the street by admirers. She’s even got a little ‘E’ mini branding iron and is only too happy to heat it up with a lighter, for an autograph.

If and when she says so

And not a second before or after.

There’s nothing wrong, of course, with finding humour in femdom. It doesn’t all have to be brutal whippings, torture and opppression inflicted by hard-faced unsmiling females. Brutal whipping, torture and oppression inflicted by happy, giggling females is just as good.

Last session she wanted it done anti-clockwise, I understand. But that was then, now is now.

The nice thing about submissive clients (there has to be something, right?) for the working girls is they can fit their sessions around normal customers. If a guy comes in and asks for Yulia, she can just pop boot-worshipper there into a cupboard in mid-lick, give the normal guy whatever he needs, then let the worm back out for a little used condom play before resuming the fucked-up boot thing. If she remembers he’s there, that is.

How many blondes does it take to change a sexist’s entire outlook on life? Just one, as long as she’s got a whip and he’s got an indefinite sentence. But actually, there are over 10,000 blonde officers in the Male Rehabilitation Service, and more than enough whips to go round, so it doesn’t really work like that in practice.

It’ll probably be easier just to rip the whole thing out and install a completely new unit, which at least gives them an opportunity to find a more attractive male.

Funny how that works. For her. Every time.

By the way, obviously there’s a huge amount of slop out there, so I hesitate to recommend anything AI but there are some occasional interesting bits and pieces. This guy’s little videos are quite fun and nicely done, I think, worth a look.

And never brought to mind?

Another year dawns, full of hope and denial. Wishing all my male readers a humiliating and unpleasant year, in which your desires, dreams and fingertips are all crushed beneath an elegant boot.

No doubt, many of you printed off and proudly hung up last year’s CtD calendar, featuring the moist and pungent girls of our sister publication, Armpit Fetishist Monthly. Slightly pointlessly, because it didn’t actually have any dates on it, but no one ever said males were smart, right?

This year’s calendar is equally pointless, to match your pointless lives. It’s a chastity calendar, or chastendar as no one likes to say, in which the absence of any dates allows you all to avoid the misery of noticing that she has not circled one single day in red. Maybe one day she will? Anyway: another year… 365 days… more than thirty-one million seconds, I understand. Enjoy watching them tick by…

Beautifully devastating

Then he can stop being brave and, indeed, stop being a boy, at least on some definitions.

He might have added a gentle little pat, at times, and they’ll be giving him their own version of that too.

He’s got another uniform just as smart as the one you can see in the picture, but with more lace trimming.

Although if you’ve got an existing organ donor card, apparently that already covers it – you’re considered to have donated any organs that seem unlikely to be put to productive use, so they’re free for the taking. Some men have been a bit surprised to discover that, on waking up from a minor unrelated operation, but it’s right there in the small print.

Oh well, I suppose you can be grateful she’s not getting one of those cow milking devices with four tubes, for doing Robert, you and a couple of others all at the same time. For now.

Boxing stupid

Yes, it’s Boxing Day. A day I have come to realise is culturally specific to the UK and a few other places that are a bit like the UK, but not as damp and with fewer bat-tunnels. It’s one of those phrases that non-British people often fail to understand, like ‘having a fag in the back alley’ (you can also be a fag, for an older boy at boarding school, of course); or making sure ‘your child always has a rubber in his schoolbag’, as the teachers don’t provide them, or ‘letting some woman piss in your ring-gagged mouth’, which is just an idiomatic way of saying you’ll take her advice (“Oh, I don’t know which movie to go and see, darling: just ring-gag my jaw wide open and you can piss in my mouth, OK?”)*

Anyway, traditionally a day for tidying up after the excesses of the day before, although some people are more active: many hunts go out on Boxing Day, for example, with whips cracking and horns blaring as they pursure their terrified quarry across the fields, and some hardy souls even have a tradition of jumping naked into the sea, here in Britain on one of the coldest days of the year. My SO has very thoughtfully signed me up for all three of these festive activities, so I’ve no time for a themed post, just the usual dross.

Forget Kurt. Well… don’t forget him, obviously: he still needs his laundy done and his appartment cleaned. But the important thing is that your chastity regime should be right for *you* and that’s what she’s focused on.

Wow, tough situation! Thank goodness she’s there for him.

Looks like babe brought a pineapple, though, and I’m sure there are some bits of that that could be put to good use.

She was a little disappointed that Dr Taylor insisted on anesthetising you for the procedure, but there’ll be plenty of time later, when you’ll have the feeling restored in all of the bits of your body that remain attached.

I booked a ‘mean date’ session with a sex worker and she didn’t even show up! Wonderful. It’s so rare for someone just to ‘get me’ like that.

Some men find it hard to adapt to a female supremacist work environment, but it’s actually very straightforward as long as you just follow a few simple rules – or a lot of complicated rules, if that’s what she prefers.

* All right, I made that last one up. I make a lot of stuff up, here. But you should try it, I mean you never know, right? And there are never any good movies around, just after Christmas, so it’s good to find alternative ways of entertaining yourselves.