whipping – Page 3 – Contemplating the divine

Cruelty is its own reward

…but you often still have to pay her for it.

I suppose there comes a point when, if she’s gradually cut away every piece of you that *isn’t* your genitals, there’s only the genitals left. But then isn’t that equivalent to castrating you? Interesting philosophical question, there, to help you while away the time as you dangle in mute agony.

She has a low boredom threshold, so best not to keep going on about it.

My pain tolerance level has increased slightly over the years but unfortunately so has my SO’s.

Sharp-eyed readers (or just those who spend a lot of time wanking on the Internet) will of course recognise the lovely Goddess Mina Thorne.

You’ll soon learn about what’s important to her and what isn’t.

When they talk later, I expect she’ll need to release a lot of that anger and he’ll need – will desperately need – to release other things.

Actually, in a sense he’s getting off lightly. He was sentenced to 35 years but he’ll actually only have done 34 years, 364 days and about 12 hours. Lucky bastard, I hope he appreciates it.

She builds you up just to put you down

What a clown.

Funny how often that happens. It’s as if the spinner’s drawn to that outcome.

I discovered very early on in my dating career that the secret to really satisfying a woman sexually is to make sure she never meets me.

She has a similar approach to the men in her life – she likes them hungry, but not actually starving to death, or at least not too quickly.

She likes to feel a big cock inside her, so why can’t you?

Remarkably, AFM won a Pulitzer back in 1957 but its editorial standards have slipped a little since.

Czech their privilege

With apologies for the title, here are yet more of those OWK Ladies remembering the old times…

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.

Memories, reposted for technical reasons*

Yes, it’s time for more of those highly inaccurate (and entirely made-up) reminiscences by the very first contingent of Ladies from the Other World Kingdom. Blatant homage or affectionate rip-off? Or should that be the other way around? You decide. Or don’t, if you’d rather not.

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* Apologies – not a new post. For a long time I have been getting 4-5 obviously automated and spammy comments per day, all of them on this post which was published on June 15th. I don’t want to restrict commenting, so I have been deleting them manually. But it’s getting worse and today I got about 30. All on the one post… which is pretty f***ing stupid even for an algorithm.

Some of the generic messages are actually quite funny, given the content of the blog and the post below especially. e.g. “My co-workers think I’m wasting too much time reading this blog, but it gives me so much useful information for my life.” I’d certainly like to have seen the spammer who designed the algorithm spend some time in the OWK

She knows best

So do stop arguing, hmm? It’s very tiresome.

My SO has a very simple system for detecting when I’m lying: she assumes I am unless I can prove otherwise and whips me accordingly. Good thing for me everything on this blog is nothing but the honest-to-Goddess, cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-be-whipped truth.

Whereas disturbed sleep patterns can actually have detrimental long-term consequences, so really this is much better all round.

What’s got purple testicles and screams in agony? Give up?

With thanks to a commenter below, I’ll note that the smiling lady is Mistress Mona Rogers, whose pinned Tweet (X?) reports “it is time to announce my retirement”, alas. I wish her well and hope she still has a great deal to smile about.

Your penis would only very marginally add to the total quantity of penis involved anyway, so it’s really not a problem.

Don’t worry, she’s a very different person from her mother, with completely different ideas on how to treat the man in her life. Equally brutal, true, but different .

Docile and domesticated

The annoying thing is, the vanilla punters pay a lot less and do actually get to have sex. Oh well, if life was supposed to be fair, I suppose we wouldn’t have femdom.

Easier and a lot less humiliating too, which is probably why she doesn’t do it that way.

Exactly: the little cartoon animals won’t cause Malcolm to think any less of you, not one iota.

Her insurance will cover any compensation to the owner if it’s not feral, of course.

Suitable for a princess

Just another one of those captions that became so long it wasn’t really a caption any more so I’m calling it a story.

Your princess? Really, am I? Aww… that’s nice.

Maybe you’d like to hear your princess tell you a story, hmm? Don’t worry: you can keep doing that. Right between the toes: there’s a good boy.

Once upon the time, there was a beautiful princess who lived in far-off Milton Keynes. She was so beautiful and so talented that men from far and wide fell in love with her. Princes, knights, rich merchant bankers… even footslaves so ugly she had to make them wear latex masks, who loved to lick her sweaty toes. They all fell in love with her, but she really didn’t give a flying fuck, as long as they paid her and gave her presents on special occasions.

Like her birthday: that was the specialest occasion of all. The princess hated it if any of her ungrateful and moronic worshippers forgot her birthday. No – don’t stop doing the foot thing, slave. I’ve got something else planned in a moment, but you can keep doing that for now.

So, at the end of one birthday the princess made a little list of all the slaves who hadn’t fucking bothered to give her a present – who couldn’t even extend her the basic courtesy of an email or something. You know: to take, like, one minute out of their day to wish a happy birthday to the lady they claim is the light of their sad little fucked-up lives. And she decided that the next time each of those nasty little ingrates sessioned with her, she’d give them a really hard pain session, that went way beyond their ‘limits’. Like, for example, her pathetic little footslave who was ‘really not into pain, Mistress’: she decided she was going to clamp his nipples and bollocks with tight, tight clamps and attach heavy weights to them, then whip him raw. Maybe finish off with some electric shocks or ball-busting. Or both.

Of course, the princess realized, it would have to be consensual. But the self-centred bastards who’d forgotten her birthday would be given a choice: consent to the pain session the selfish little sods so richly deserved, or never see Mistress and her beautiful feet ever, ever, ever again. Either way, she thought, next birthday she’d have presents from all her slaves: any who didn’t consent would be living sad lonely lives without her and the remaining ones would be too fucking terrified to forget a second time, after the sheer hell she planned to deal out to them.

Now… I want you to help me write the end of the story, slave. Not the very end, that’s “And the princess lived happily ever after.” It’s the bit just before that. What do you think is going to happen?

No, you can stop licking my foot now – maybe that was for the last time, isn’t it exciting? – and I’ll go and get the bondage cross ready, while you have a think.

The part of the princess in this tale was played by the very lovely and delightful Tiffany Naylor, who does indeed hold court in the magical land of Milton Keynes*, where I once encountered her and very lovely and very delightful she was. Naturally, none of the actions of the fictional dominatrix depicted here should be attributed to the real Tiffany Naylor, although I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets cross if her regulars forget her birthday**, as that’s perfectly normal (and normally perfect) dominatrix behaviour.

* For Americans or other foreigners unfamiliar with this place, Milton Keynes is one of the most historic towns in England. You can easily spend several days there, just strolling around the medieval streets, drinking in the scenic beauty of the old town and swapping stories with its charming inhabitants. Wisely, the local authorities have avoided the excess tourism that has damaged the charm of some other historic English locations, like Stratford on Avon, by ensuring there is little to be found on the Internet about the rich history and architecture of this unspoilt gem, but those in the know regard it as being on the must-see list for any visitor seeking to explore England’s historic treasures.

** 3rd of August!