Category: Uncategorised

Bring me to my knees



Never mind.  If she does do any damage to his back, I expect the six hours on hands and knees scrubbing the stone floors of the Chateau that she has planned for him this afternoon will make it better again.



In one case, the client turned out to be the same man.  Of course, when he found out that he was paying twice to clean his own apartment, he complained to her.  He still finds it uncomfortable to sit down, I understand.

Just go ahead and say what you think.  You don’t get the cane for telling the truth, only for lying.  And impertinence.



You know, last year my wife forgot our anniversary!  I was so disappointed.  And when I reminded her, she said it was too late, and anyway she couldn’t remember where the key was!  Forgetful thing, she is.  Hope she remembers this year.




She’s even asked them to put a special note on your file: not to be castrated. Just in case.  So can you calm down, now, hmm?



Well, here’s my very first guest publication, from a remarkable contribution in the comments section a week ago by Surrendered Husband, in response to this:

It’s a privilege for me to share it up here, where I thought it might get the wider audience it deserves.

Over to you, Surrendered:

Society is an absolute gynarchy now and has been since anyone can remember. Well
at least as far back as the elementary history lessons that boys are taught
go.

After their six years of school, the best looking, best behaved boys
enter their lives of domestic service doing endless routines of cooking,
cleaning, and serving women. The women of course live like the Queens that they
are.

Other boys who are not as good looking or behave badly are assigned
to hard, dirty, menial jobs which shorten their life spans and insure that the
‘good boys’ will continue to ‘be good’ or they too could be
‘reassigned’.

The best of the ‘good boys’ become male wives for rich and
powerful women. While there, they live as her cook, maid, and sex toy for as
long as she wants him. Divorce laws for cases filed by women are very liberal.
Men are not allowed to file. The lucky men are treated as mindless, coquettish
children. Others are treated as slaves and beaten into
submission.

Despite these conditions there does exist a minor underground
or “Men’s Libbers” who make very basic human rights requests such as limits on
punishments, more education, cleaner and safer working conditions.

When
women hear about men becoming ‘uppity’ and are starting to talk about equality
between the sexes they usually laugh at them and their male foolishness.

But when men are caught spewing this vile “Men’s Lib” poison they are
severely punished. Only the prettiest and otherwise best behaved ones remain in
their much coveted domestic roles. Other are sent to the fields or factories to
be worked to death. First time offenders simply have their domestic chores
schedule increased drastically to insure that they have no time to waste on such
silly and pernicious thoughts.

“Men’s Lib” is the one unforgivable sin.
If it is allowed to fester the entire gynarchy could come tumbling down and the
women know it. So it is belittled, and then punished harshly.
Scenes:

“Oh don’t tell me you are one of those silly “Men’s Libbers” now are you? You’re
such a pretty boy! Where would you get such foolish ideas? Now be a dear and get
me another drink. Oh and change into your new bedroom boy outfit. You know the
one I just bought you silly!”

“I found this “Men’s Lib” pamphlet in your
dresser honey. I think you need a good sound spanking, corner time, and then I’m
thinking about having you scrub my kitchen floor AND my bathroom floor every
night for a month with a strap on mouth brush. Oh and I’m putting you in a
single sleeve while you do it too! That should keep you from wasting MY time
with this foolishness!”

“A restriction put on how much a wife can paddle
her husband? Preposterous! How will order in the home ever be
maintained?”

“Hey have you heard? The police just arrested a bunch of
those “Men’s Lib” freaks! They were meeting without a permit. Yeah, as if they
would EVER get one! They are all down in the public square in the stocks for 48
hours! Let’s go beat their asses RAW!!!”

“I simply don’t understand any
boy today wanting to take college prep classes when they should be focused on
their Home Ec. Work! I mean what woman would want to marry some boy who wants to
act strong and independent like a woman?!”
—

“Oh No, Honey! I would
never want to be one of those icky “Men’s Libbers”! I’m a traditional boy at
heart! I just want to get married and keep a house for my Lady and raise her
children for her!”

“Oh that’s so sweet! Why don’t you go make me a
sandwich and get me a beer while you are up? And hey why don’t you put on those
cute tight spandex shorts I bought you. You know I love to see your package
wrapped all pretty like that. That’s my boy…”
“OK, Honey! Do you REALLY think
they look pretty on me?”
—

“Some of the girls are coming over later.
Do you think you could have the washing and vacuuming done by then? We’re gonna
watch the game and that noise is not something we should have to put up with. Oh
and could you make us some snacks? You’re such a doll!”

“Now how is that
offensive? All I said was that you had a pretty little butt! Now don’t go
getting all ‘huffy’ now. You know there are laws against “Men’s Lib” in this
country! You didn’t think about that now did you? Well now that you’ve thought
about it, why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap for a while Sugar? Oh
and unbutton that shirt of yours. You know how I like to see you
dress…”

“Who could do their chores, keep fit, and dress nicely and still
have time for that silly “Men’s Lib” stuff?”

—
“You say I’m ‘Such a
sexist’, that I am ‘So Bad’, well how come I make you so hard when I talk like
this? That’s cause that is what boys like!”

“Oh don’t talk like that! You are
such a naughty woman!”

—
“It’s a good thing you are so beautiful and
so strong or no boy would want to go out with you, you sexist!”

“I’ll show
you what sexist is, Sugar Plum…”

Thank you again, Surrendered Husband.  Here are some links I suggested in my reply: if you haven’t been following Contemplating the Divine from the beginning, you might like these magazine covers (link) . They look to me as if they must have come from the very future you describe. There’s a disgraceful “Men’s lib” publication even among these, so the future isn’t perfect. Not yet.

It’s nothing to do with me – I’m certainly no supporter of “male liberation” – but you might also like this external site:
http://www.maleliberationfront.com/aboutmlf.html

Responding to popular request from absolutely no one, the
reclusive author of this blog has decided to reveal some of the secrets of his
art, by being interviewed.  Our celebrity
guest interviewer today is Mistress Whippenham, a highly experienced pro-am
domination expert, normally based in Ilfracombe in Devon, South-West England,
but today here in the blog room as a figment of Servitor’s imagination.  I’m sure you’re all keen to know everything about
Contemplating the Divine and its author, so here we go.

Mistress Whippenham

What are you looking at, you little pervert?  How dare you!

Servitor trying to fuck off but failing to find the door.

Isn’t it?  And doesn’t that just feel great?




Welcome to the second day of the rest of your life.



Cucumbers… it’s so silly to be jealous of a cucumber.  Sigh.

Actually, she’s doing a school project on it.

Admittudlee, therez a slite risk of brane dammige, but nuffin to worry none, no way.

Yes, Ma’am.





A ‘first footer’, greeting the Spring with an affectionate kiss.



Despite the onset of Spring, the weather in Bulgaria can remain very poor at this time of year – so this enterprising Bulgarian lady has taken advantage of the first footing ceremony to keep dry in the rain!



In the town of Åasblød in Norway, the Spring Festival of the Birch takes place on this day.  All the men of the town who turned 18 in the previous year swim naked in the lake in the morning.  Then, naked and cold, they run to a lodge in the forest.  There, ladies who turned 18 in the prevous year, together with those turning 28, 38 and 48, have been gathered since the evening before, fashioning fine bundles of rods from the proud forests around.  The men are secured tightly over logs and birched vigorously, in a process that usually starts in an orderly fashion with the ladies forming a queue in front of each male, but often typically degenerates into mayhem, as bits of birch fly everywhere and the air fills with the shrieks of flogged males and the delightful murmur of female laughter and conversation.

Once all the rods have been used up, a white cloth is pressed to the backside of each of the secured males, to produce an impression in blood to recall the day.  This memento is kept safe, and usually presented to a bride by her groom on a wedding night, as part of the ‘Marriage night ritual of the birch’.  As a matter of fact, the birch tree is the centrepiece of much of the cultural life of Åasblød, with no fewer than 17 festivals over the course of the year devoted to this noble plant.

The young ladies delight in making artistic arrangements of the birch sprays, using pretty ribbons and even interweaving flowers into the bundle.  There are prizes for the prettiest – and then later, prizes for the most bloody flogged bottom too.  Good girlish fun.

 


In South Africa it’s not actually Spring, because it’s in the southern hemisphere.  Nevertheless, on or around this date, a tradition has developed in recent years called “Apology Day”.  A powerful figure from the apartheid regime is selected, as are several representatives of the new, young, multiracial South Africa.  This year, Capetown’s former police chief is the main participant, and the photo below shows him with two of the youngsters selected to engage in dialogue with him about the apartheid era.  Interestingly, although he will be free to go once the day is over, he might well emulate his predecessors in choosing to go into domestic service for one or more of his young examiners, presumably out of a sense of remorse.

Young citizens prepare for Apology Day, along with this year’s lucky ‘volunteer’ for atonement.

In Iceland, men are released from chastity and allowed to come on this day.  Then they are locked up again.  There’s no great ceremony around it, but if you’re visiting Iceland on business or on holiday, it’s worth considering going at this time of year (or the Autumn Solstice of course) as it can provide a welcome moment of relief from Iceland’s otherwise strict chastity laws.  If you’re staying in a hotel, the chambermaid will probably have your key but you should always ask at reception the night before, to ensure you don’t miss out.

Welcome to Iceland.  Hold still now.

* note for new readers: little-known because completely untrue – see the disclaimer to the right about the veracity of information presented on this blog.

Madame Sarka from quite early days of OWK.  Whatever might have happened later, and wherever things might have got to now, OWK simply changed everything for me and no doubt for many like me.  I will always treasure the memory of “OWK news No 1”.  Truly incredible, unprecedented.



“Blimey…what a looker.  I’ve hit the jackpot this time.  That’s right love, just tell me about your boring old office job…blah blah, career in human resources, yeah wha-ever, how’d you get into that then?  Women love it when you pretend to take an interest.  Nod, nod, interested and delighted look, just keep staring into my extremely fascinated eyes darling….oh fuck, she’s expecting an answer to a question.  Just talk about me I suppose.”

I have the strangest feeling that by the next lesson you’ll know the poem really, really well.

And then you can straighten your little maid skirt back down over your well-smacked bottom and go back to your chores.  But with dignity.