Uncategorised – Page 2 – Contemplating the divine

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.

Subordinate clauses

It’s pay to play. Except when it’s ‘don’t you dare play but pay anyway’.

There were great hopes for the ‘living crash test dummy’ programme, when it was set up, but it turned out to provide data of limited medical usefulness in studying brain damage because of course by female standards, males’ brains are already damaged.

Just like my wedding night… except my blushing bride wasn’t actually in the same room as me.

Thank goodness it’s only a hypothetical question. I don’t object in principle, but can’t she see I’m busy with the ironing?

Oh… I remember this occasion. Such a bad time to sneeze.

The Fashionable Frown

Rather a narrow focus to today’s ‘special’ (you have noticed that Sunday’s posts are always specials, right? Course you have). Anyway, this is just to celebrate my discovery of a lovely young lady fashion model called Olivia Vinten. Unlike many other models, Ms Vinten does not seem to believe in smiling for the camera, preferring instead a pursed-lips look that to my mind expresses contempt, outrage or even barely repressed fury. All of these are delightful emotions for females to hold – entirely understandably when confronted by the exasperating and incompetent lesser sex – so she is today’s celebrated goddess and will feature again in future. She looks so cross… and regular ‘readers’ will know I have a soft and tender spot for women looking cross.

Don’t get me wrong – I don’t object to women smiling. For one thing, I’m not allowed to express negative opinions about anything a female does, for another there is certainly a place for a mocking or patronising smile in our little world. But it’s so refershing to see a beautiful young model expressing her real feelings, that today is a smile-free post.

I haven’t cherry-picked the images by the way. Just try typing ‘Olivia Vinten’ in your favourite anonymised search engine and you might see at most one or two half-smiles, amid a display of fabulous feminine frowniness.

I want a girl with a long….

…long jacket!

I’m pretty sure I’ve featured this video before but some things are worth more than others and Emma Peel is priceless. Any benighted youngish ‘readers’ who think that the Avengers are superheroes or that Diana Rigg is mainly known for playing Lady Olenna Tyrell might want to educate themselves, or submit to someone who will educate them properly.

Post is (regrettably) unrelated as I just don’t have captioned images of the divine Ms Rigg. Maybe I should.

I want a girl with a mind like a diamond.