Stories and pictures themed around female domination and male subjugation and servitude. Unsuitable for children, for alpha males, for hard-core practitioners with an interest in the politics of bdsm and the mechanics of complicated rope work. Of interest to perverts like me, basically.
Who loved a lord and who laughed aloud At the moan of the merryman, moping mum Whose soul was sad and whose glance was glum Who sipped no sup and who craved no crumb As he sighed for the love of a la-dy.
I used to wonder how girls could spend so long washing their hair. Then I found out.
Air stewardesses often like to have a sub waiting for them on arrival. After a long flight, they really want someone else serving them drinks and food – and if there’ve been any rude, arrogant passengers on the flight it’s still more important to have access to someone on whom to let off a bit of steam.
There are also consequences for remaining silent when she’s asked something, as well as for lying. So it’s all covered, really.
I hope this jokey little caption doesn’t contribute to that hurtful ‘castrating lesbian’ stereotype. Actually, survey data show that lesbians are, if anything, slightly less enthusiastic about castrating males than are heterosexual women, although there’s only a few percentage points in it.
They seem well-equipped.
Ooh… I hate job interviews. Like, I went to one where the interviewer asked me how I’d react to being slapped across the face and she didn’t even let me finish my answer! I did get the job, as it happens, but frankly that turned out to be a mixed blessing.
If love is there, honouring and obeying should come naturally. And if they don’t, I’m sure she can find an alternative means to encourage them.
He has… but here’s only so much misbehaviour you can get up to, muzzled and on a leash.
Don’t worry: she won’t whip you any more than necessary.
My SO finds it very upsetting when our cat catches a mouse and plays with it so cruelly. As she says, there’s a 50% chance the poor little thing is female.It’s a future-proofed profession, because although technology obviously could automate the basic function of shit-carrying, it could never provide the same satisfaction forcing a male to do that provides to the onlooker.
She’d discipline you herself, but she’s too tenderhearted.
Why complicate matters? Sometimes all you need is a whip, a helpless victim, a remote location and an iron-clad alibi.
There are charities that will take care of widowed men, but I’ve heard they can be pretty brutal. So, I think you’re better off with her. Try keeping your silly men’s libber nonsense to yourself; that should help.
Wow – in with a chance, here!
Don’t worry – it’s perfectly normal to find things a little uncomfortable when current and former girlfriends get together. Even if you weren’t dangling from a hook with your legs held wide apart by a spreader bar, it would be a stressful situation.
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.
Words can hurt… he’s upset now, because he didn’t say it in the hope of getting out of the whipping, but because he meant it and he loves her. Whips can hurt too, of course. Quite a lot.
See, if you can’t be bothered to remind her at the right time, why should she be bothered about it?
Just follow the sound of her voice… I live my life according to that principle even when I’m not blindfolded.
Many guys see nothing wrong in an appreciative stare at a sexy girl. And increasingly, many girls see nothing wrong in bundling those guys into burlap sacks and brutally torturing them in a windowless underground cell. So it’s all just about finding the right partner.
Whenever I read yet another article claiming that men aren’t doing so well in the modern IT-oriented office, I just think about all the guys reading this blog: still working the computer effectively with just one hand, and with trousers down around their ankles. Show me a woman who’d do that.
She learns a lot from the conversations with them. For instance, she has discovered that it is “a nice skateboard”. Sometimes the conversation even goes as far as “Uh, yeah. Really, really nice.”
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.
* 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
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 .
