Contemplating the divine – Page 129 – 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.

Sexual repression

I have my testosterone levels checked twice a year. They’ve never found any yet, but you can’t be too careful about these things.

I’m delighted to say my SO reaches orgasm every time she has sex. I can usually hear it even from my cage down in the cellar.

Who said she was pissed off? A bit disrespectful, if you ask me. I reckon Dave should report him for that.

Don’t worry, it won’t kill you. Not at only two a day.

I’m tempted to say somethng about ‘hanging around’ but I don’t want to beaten up by irate readers… oh hang on, yes I do.

Subtexts

You know, people think owning a doctor is just an easy way to get a lot of money, but it can be a lot of work whipping them through all those years of medical school.

I wonder how they do work around there?

Doesn’t mean she doesn’t enjoy her job, of course. She just knows how to separate the professional and the personal, that’s all.


These two seem to be consummate professionals, though.

Quick test for regular readers – have I published the one above before? I experienced a colossal failure due to laziness and incompetence technical glitch earlier this year, and I don’t always have a good record of which images I’ve put up before. Google Images can’t find it but it looks very familiar (apart from the fact that I wrote it, obviously). Remember: if you spot a previously posted image, I’ll put up another, extra, one.

Good to know. Damage to equipment’s a worry too. I sometimes fear that, after repeatedly hitting her boots with my testicles, or vigorously slapping her tawse with the palms of my hands, I might cause scuffing.

Extra one for the sin of repetition (and after a moment’s hesitation, I think you can try out some deviation).

Penile servitude

It turns out they did get the sugar, but it was a little untidily heaped in the bowl, so, you know…

Bad interns get spanked. Good interns get spanked and made to wear little lacy panties too.

I had to go to court once. The lady magistrate ordered me to be bound over to keep the peace. But apparently that doesn’t mean what you might think. Who knew? I just started to get myself ready, then and there, but… it’s a long story but anyway, I ended up sentenced to six months with hard labour for an obscene display in contempt of court. So that turned out quite well in the end.

Odd thing to say. I think she looks very nice.

And that’s before they start.

Mistress of arts

Women, eh? You can’t just straight-out discuss something, she has to set up the whole situation just right to ‘discuss it’. Oh well. Better humour her.

That’s a very wide hole. Still, maybe there are some guys who need that. Not jealous…

Phew. That could have gone quite badly. Remember the time you bought that fur coat in the wrong shade of silver?

I wonder if in the years to come, he’ll regret not having signed more forms? After all, it’s not going to be easy to sign anything, when she’s done with him.

This of course is the sweet and kindly Mistress Jo, of Cruella and British Institution fame. She’s just a softie really.

That’s something we’ve seen a lot of this year – this contemptuous attitude to ‘experts’. She could easily double the efficiency of the plant by not sitting on it, for example, but you just try telling her that…

I worked eleven hours and bought the girl some flowers

Makes it all worthwhile (trigger warning: link contains scenes of male equality and ordinary life).

It’s amazing how much easier the invention of electricity has made these simple tasks. In the old days she’d have had to bend you over, whack you with a birch rod or something… now she just presses a button enough times, and presto you’re balancing books! We have a lot to be thankful for.

Most of the book’s concerned with proper cleaning and ironing of military uniforms. You’ll be discovering a lot about that, later on. Still – first things first.

Caption writing’s like that. At first, you really agonise about whether you’ve tersely managed to capture the essence of a scene, but after a while you realise you can just publish any old crap and the sad wankers who read your blog will keep coming anyway, because they only want to look at the pictures. Which is really great if you run out of original or clever ideas!

Dommes in the city.

Don’t worry. She‘s not going to have to stay on duty for fourteen hours. They share the time between three of them. It’s quite tiring work, whipping men into carrying great piles of stones around, after all.

Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way

You might want to pay particular attention to the inflight safeword briefing.

Damn. Maybe we could play backgammon instead?

If it’s any consolation, Jerry’s no happier about it than you are, In fact, he’s bloody furious. Try to make him happy, OK?

Hmm. That’s diamonds eleven times in a row, now. That means hearts must come up next time, right?

I don’t want you to get the impression that reading this blog in any way singles you out as a loser, OK? As long as no one ever, ever finds out, then there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Obviously, if they do, then there is but that just means you have to take care, right?

Lap of honour

She uses a system of rewards and penalties. Some days, when you’ve done particularly well, you’re rewarded by not being penalised.

I wasn’t a service oriented submissive when I started out, but my SO sent me on an orientation course.

The other things are negotiable. Just go ahead and negotiate – but you do have to be in position first, OK?

In any marriage, learning when to communicate – and when to stay silent – is as important as learning how.

I find these networking sites can really eat up my time. I had fifteen ironing assignments on Slavr last week, for example – took me hours to get all that done – and then there were eight notifcations waiting for me on Spankr. I thought all this technology was supposed to give us all more free time?

Subjugated

I think you might be about to experience a consciousness-lowering session.

I’m impressed she’s still got the energy after a 10-hour flight. Stewardesses are amazing, don’t you think?

At one point I lived near this really seedy red-light district near Spitalfields in London. Quite early on, I explained to one of the streetwalkers that I disapproved of exchanging money for sex and she was kind enough to let me give her money and then just go away every week thereafter. I wonder where she is now? The standing order still goes through to her bank account, so I guess she’s still around.

Because of this, obviously. Pervy lot, architects.

Many men find it a bit of a shock at first, being married. Just try and keep it to no more than 8-10 jolts a day, at moderate settings, and you’ll get used to it soon enough.

…and an extra one, for Paltego who enjoys photoshoots of dommes playing pool badly:

So a domme, her gimp and her money pig walk into a bar…

Yeah, I wanna report a
missing sub.

You know – submissive?
Like a slave?

Well of course consensual.
Actually he begged.

OK, so he went missing this morning. We kind of left him in the forest and then we
couldn’t find him, so –

Yeah, sure we looked. Five minutes at least. Maybe longer.

You need a description? Right.

OK, so he’s about fifty years old, naked, shackled at hands
and ankles, with his cock locked in a spiked tube. Er… recently lost a lot of weight, so his
skin kinda hangs off him in wrinkles, his back and ass are covered in whip
marks, he has cigarette burns all over his thighs and his mouth is forced wide open
with a serrated spreader gag, with a tongue clamp attached. But he can
make a few sounds, and he answers to the name of
–

What? Did you say
‘Lucky’? Why would he answer to the name
‘Lucky’?

Well, why would you think I was going to say that? That’s not his name. I was gonna tell you his name.

An old joke? Is it? Oh, OK. I guess. I don’t
really get jokes, actually. Never
had much of a sense of humour. Just ask anyone… especially my subs.

Yeah, no problem. Answers
to the name of ‘Useless Fucktard’ anyway.

Sure. OK, I’ll give
you my number and let me know if you find him, OK? No, I don’t want regular updates. If you find
him, great, but if you don’t it’s no big deal.

OK, thanks. Bye!

The photo that makes this otherwise pointless story, errr, pointful, is of course from American Mean Girls (they seem to have expanded out from Miami). As I’ve said before, the ‘bratty’ teenage humiliatrix thing usually doesn’t do it for me, but maybe that’s because it’s normally done very badly. I think this site is really very good indeed and it definitely does do it for me, so I recommend a visit.