Contemplating the divine – Page 177 – 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.

Just looking

What? Oh God,
no. You don’t have to do anything like that. He can’t cope with real women.

We just have to stand here wearing these
for half an hour while he watches. Then we go and get changed and leave him the
underwear. God knows what the little
pervert does with it – puts it on or wanks into it or something. Easiest money you’ll ever make.

No, don’t worry about that.
He gets off on humiliation. You
can say what you like.

Can’t we, pervert?

That’s right.

By the way, pervert, after this, we’ve got an appointment with a real
man. He wants to fuck both of us all
night, and we’re charging him less than a tenth of what you’re paying for half
an hour!

Isn’t that funny?

Hmm? No, he never speaks. Just sits there and watches. Kind of creepy, isn’t it? Still, probably better that he does this than going off to watch girls in the park, or something.

How are we doing for time? This is the first time I’ve had someone with me. It’s good to have someone to talk to, instead of just me and the creep. He got very excited when I said I was bringing a friend – didn’t you, pervert? Asked if we could kiss, and maybe cuddle a bit.

And what did I say to that, pervert? Do you remember? Oh but you don’t say anything, do you? You just sit there, drinking in the humiliation. Well, I’ll tell you again. I told you to fuck off, didn’t I? There’s no way you’re going to see us doing any lesbian stuff. Not for you to get off to, anyway. Actually, we really are lovers, in real life. I’ll probably kiss her the moment we leave your apartment. And then we’ll probably fuck each other in the threesome. But you wouldn’t want to see us fucking anyway, pervert. That’s real sex you see, between two real women. It’s not like those pictures of straight girls gently stroking each other in pristine underwear, wearing lots of make-up and glancing back at the camera. That’s just porn for perverts. The real thing would scare the shit out of you. Probably leave you impotent for days… if you’re not already.

In fact, fuck it, you don’t deserve the full half hour. We’re leaving early. Come on – let’s go and get changed. He’ll just have to sniff extra hard.

Oh – and pervert? Next time you book us? You’re only getting fifteen minutes. Same price. And we’ll decide what time to arrive – you can just wait for us all evening, if we’re running late.

Now you can call us a limo.

Fedmom capyions

Just for all those of you too excited at the thought of all these pictures of dominant ladies to type into Google correctly.

One of the most common search terms for people finding this blog is “Contemplating the devine”. No. Just no. Write it out correctly 500 times, and then go and see Miss Hardcastle, boy!

On we go.

Where else could you be?

Clue: the right answer is “Yes” or, better, “Yes, Mistress”. Don’t worry – you can always borrow the money if you haven’t got it!

Men say the oddest things sometimes. That’s why sensible wives don’t let them speak without permission.

The safeword is your credit card number.

You have laugh really, eh? All those bitter tears of loss… Over someone else’s balls. Funny. Isn’t it?

By the way, I shall be on holiday for about the next two and a half weeks. The blog will continue to update itself twice a week via the magic of ‘scheduler’ *. But if I don’t respond to your comment for a few weeks, it’s not because I am rude, or too lazy to do so**, it’s just because I’m not really here. But I’d like you to keep commenting anyway…

*actually, to tell the truth most of the captions and stories these days are produced using an AI script anyway, which is why they are so repetitive and formulaic. The real ‘Servitor’ died of shame about six months ago. Nobody cared.

** unless of course you are a representative of the ruling gender, in which case my failure to reply is a sign of laziness and rudeness, and I hope you’ll be taking appropriate disciplinary measures to deal with this disgracefully impertinent behaviour.

Happy thoughts

Morning honey! Hey – I was wondering – did you talk to George at he party last night? Sally’s George?

Yes, I thought I saw you the two of you. So… did you notice anything different?

Yeah? He does seem happy, doesn’t he? Much better than he was. And they make such a lovely couple now – don’t you think? They’re both really happy. I’m glad you noticed that.

Well… Sally let me into a little secret last night. Apparently, she had him fitted with a ThoughtTrainer about two months ago! Isn’t that amazing? Yeah – those things they use on criminals.

Anyway, apparently it’s set to train his thoughts to be more attentive to her. So it makes him happy when he’s obeying her – and it hurts him a bit if he has disobedient thoughts.

Yes, that’s probably why he was having all those headaches last month. I expect he was still getting used to having to think obedient thoughts all the time. But it looks like he’s cracked it now! And that’s why she decided finally to tell us – I can’t believe she kept it quiet for so long.

No, apparently he can’t tell anyone. It’s set to block him saying anything about it. Apparently you can set it up, so it prevents any expression at all of some thoughts. So he can’t disagree with her – that kind of thing.

But he seems really happy. Don’t you think he seemed happy? He had a kind of smile on his face the whole evening, didn’t he? And especially when she gave him little jobs to do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so eager.

I guess they’re kind of a perfect couple now, huh? Because she used to hate it when he disobeyed – do you remember? She’s always been like that. A bit like me, I suppose!

Oh – and Julie said that maybe she’d have one fitted onto Trevor. Now he really needs it – don’t you think? Imagine! Grumpy old Trevor as a happy little helper for his wife. I’m looking forward to seeing that!

I hope they’ll be as happy as Sally and George. Don’t you? I’m sure they will be. Lucky old Trevor. I expect it’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Don’t you think so?

Right.

So….is there anything you want to say to me?

No?

Oh.

OK.

Well, I guess you’d better get on with your chores, anyway. I’m going round to see Sally. A few of us girls are. I’ll probably be late back, so don’t wait up, OK? Unless there’s something you want to talk about, when I get back.

OK, bye then!

Shut up, she explained

I always find her explanations entirely convincing.

Oooh – that’s a nasty sensation, isn’t it? When you really have to go but… On the other hand, arguing with her can lead to much nastier sensations, so probbaly best just to go with it. It’s not as if she’s giving you a choice.

Femdom means always having to say you’re sorry.

I bet she can, too. Or I would, if I were allowed money.

She’s a bit squeamish about that sort of thing. Best to just swallow it straight away.

Ermmm…..

Unpleasantries

Fair point. It’s quite hard to travel internationally without money too. Or clothes.

Madame Sarka. Of course. Need I say more?

I expect they’ll just agree to keep it our little secret, don’t you? In exchange for total obedience, obviously.

From St Mackenzie’s, a site that (in the previews at least) has lots of wonderful shots of schoolmistresses looking stern, and schoolgirls looking dangerous… but then disappointingly always seems to have them take their clothes off and look ready for vanilla sex. I mean, who wants to see that? There are some real weirdos out there, no?

This is kind of autobiographical. I really hate the actual feeling of being beaten, so although in the weeks leading up to a session I’m all excited, in the hour or so before there’s just this “oh fuck, pretty soon someone’s going to be hitting me with a leather strap and it’s going to hurt!”. Out of all the fetishes there are, why this one, hmmm? Why not cuddly toys, or something? Or ballooons. I’ve tried…and balloons do nothing for me.

This is from Cruella. You could tell even without the tag, right?

Go on – surprise her!

No idea who this is. Doesn’t matter, though, as after tonight I expect she won’t be seeing you again.

Yes, you’ll always have those memories.

Through the window

Oh, hi Mr Travis!

Are you leaning out just to say hi to me, or are you –

Oh dear. Again? Oh poor you. I think it’s awful the way she makes you bend over the window sill like that when she’s going to beat you. It must be so humiliating! I guess that’s part of the punishment, huh?

So what did you do this time?

Did you? Oh. We girls are quite particular about the way we have our dresses ironed. Ask your lodger next time – I might be able to give you some advice. Pleats are hard, though.

So is it the paddle again? I had a friend who used to get the paddle from his dad when I was a kid. He used to say it hurt like hell. One day his dad caught him saying that and paddled him double for profanity. Kinda fair, I guess.

No? Oh. I thought you got the paddle. What are you getting then?

A what? A “quirt”? What’s that?*

Oh. You mean, kind of like a whip? Oh boy, that sounds pretty rough. You get that just for messing up the ironing? Gee, you get whipped just for pleats not being straight. Your wife is kinda strict, huh?

Second time? Oh, OK. I guess you got the paddle last time, huh? Well, didn’t that make you kinda take extra care, this time, – and –

Yeah. Well, pleats are hard.

OK. Well anyway, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I mean – I guess you’ll feel uncomfortable enough pretty soon! I’ll just swing here for a bit. I’ll try not to look at you, when –

Oh, hi Mrs Travis! How are you?

Yeah, pretty good. Isn’t it great that the sun’s out again? I could just be out here all day.

Hmmm? No, no he hasn’t been round with the lawnmower for a while. Well… yeah, he did say he would. But it’s OK. I quite like the grass this long. Any time’s fine.

No really, I don’t mind! I’m sure he had other things to do and – well, all right. I guess he’s your husband, huh?

Oh – and if he’s coming round anyway? Do you think he could cut back some of the bushes, going back to the garden house? Only they’re growing over the side and it’s… Well, I guess I could just ask him. But I thought I’d check with you first, because – oh wow, is that the ‘quirt’? Boy, I’m glad that’s not for me. Wow, that’s pretty serious, huh? What’s it like when it –

OH!

Oh my god! Did you just – ? Wow, that was a real crack, like a – oh my god. Are you sure he’s OK? He looks kinda – oh are you gonna do it agai – Oh MY GOD!

(Hurriedly) OK, well, I can see you guys want to get on with it so – OH! Wow! Three. That must really hurt! – yeah, I’ll just… actually, I left my book inside. See you!

The end

* this:

Pretty mean

Pretty girls can be so mean,
don’t you think?

I knew this girl in high school,
for example. She was pretty and cute, and she hung out with all of the cool
kids. So of course, I was amazed when she asked me round to her place one day.
I suspected she just wanted help with her homework, you know, but I couldn’t
control my hopes that she might be sweet on me, and my heart was pounding out
of my chest when I rang her doorbell.

But wouldn’t you know it, as
soon as I was inside, she knocked me out and I woke up in a dark cellar, where
over the course of that week, she and her friends subjected me to the most
unspeakable tortures and sexual humiliations, then locked me in chastity and
condemned me to a lifetime of chained servitude as her male maid! Girls, eh?
True story.

Well, except the bit about being
in high school. I’m British. We don’t really have them.

But every word of the rest is
true. Honest.

Onwards…

Worship…devotional prayers…human sacrifice – whatever she wants, really.

Oh don’t be ridiculous. Of course she’s not going to fry up his balls! What a suggestion! She’s going to lightly glaze them with cardamom-scented honey, and serve on a bed of sauteed mange-tout with polenta.

It’s generally not a good idea to let your manager and your dominatrix work together. But once they do, the best thing to do is just to accept the situation. After all, you have no choice.

Awww. Isn’t that sweet, to think of your comfort like that? That’s why you’re marrying her, right?

Therapy can help, too. For example, I discovered that my fears of sexual inadequacy stem from being sexually inadequate. I owe my therapist a great debt, which I’m paying off in monthly installments deducted directly from my salary.

Tough love

Very tough, sometimes. Ouch.

Captioned images of female domination follow. Obviously.

Not a clothes cupboard, you understand. Don’t get your hopes up, loser.

Yes. Apparently she doesn’t have Madame Sarka’s easygoing and forgiving nature, so do watch it. Still – congratulations! Happiest day of your life, and all that!

Madame Sarka, of course, formerly of OWK.

Oh I always do that sort of thing. Live for today, I say! Who knows where we’ll be tomorrow, eh? Well, I mean, in this case here, obviously. And the day after that, and…

This image from Cruella. There’s a certain bleakness that is unmistakable. Mmmmm.

Oh no. I hate going to her parents’. Especially after a flogging. Oh well… who said life had to be fair?

Gratuitous cruelty – dontcha love it?

Caller display

Do you remember we talked about keeping quiet during
punishment? And we practiced last time?

Right. Well here’s
the test. You’re going to kneel on the
stool over there, in front of the computer on that table. You’re going to log onto your Skype account –
no, not the NaughtyTrevor you use to contact me, your real one – and you’re
going to Skype someone at work.

What is it you’re supposed to be doing today? A conference, was it? Right.
You can tell them all about the conference. What is it supposed to be
about? “Budgeting software”? Good.

So who can you call at the office?

Henry?
Oh, I don’t think so. Any women?

“Tracy”? Who’s
Tracy? Your secretary? Is she?
Well, what an important person you must be, to have Tracy for your
secretary. I hope you’re always polite
and respectful to her. Maybe we can talk
about that another time.

Right, so you’re going to call Tracy and tell her all about
the conference on budgeting software.
And while you’re talking, I’ll be standing a bit to the side with the
hairbrush.

And from time to time I’ll smack your bare bottom with
it. Every time I hear the word
‘conference’ or ‘presentation’ or ‘software’ or ‘budgeting’…let’s see, or ‘office’ –
from you or Tracy you’re getting a smack.
And sometimes you’ll get a smack anyway,
just because I feel like it.
Don’t worry – the mike doesn’t pick up sounds from far away. But it will pick it up if you squeal, or
grunt or anything like that, won’t it?
So you’d better be very calm while you’re spanked… just like we
practiced. Calmer, in fact.

Now, the call doesn’t end until I say so. If Tracy starts to hang up, just
change the subject or ask about something.
If it ends before I give permission, we’re going to do it again, only
this time it’ll be your mother you’re calling and it’ll be the cane.

Oh – one more thing. Somehow you have to work the word ‘hairbrush’ into the conversation? You have to say it at least once, in a context that makes sense. Got it?

What do you mean, what happens if you don’t? What usually happens if you disobey an order of mine?

That’s right.

Now pull your trousers down, and get up on the stool.

Good. And log into Skype…

…and call Tracy. I’m sure she will want to hear all about the interesting presentations <SMACK> at the conference <SMACK> on budgeting <SMACK> software <SMACK>.

Oh dear. I hope you’re going to do better than that on the call. Otherwise Tracy might – ah, it’s ringing!

Come on Tracy…

…maybe she’s away from her desk…?

…is there anyone else, you can – ooop!

“Hello? Oh, is that Trevor? Wow – the picture’s really clear. How’s the conference?”

<SMACK!>

…

The lady, of course, is the wonderful Cassie Hunter, a lady whose demeanor, look and personality together press more of my buttons than I can possibly count. I can scarcely imagine anything that would excite me more than the thought of a session with her… but my pain limits are actually so feeble, I can’t think of anything that would terrify me more than the reality of a session with her. Perhaps one day I’ll be bold – or reckless – enough to call…. In the meantime, though, there is her web site.

Do you really want to hurt me?

Do you really want to make me cry?

Oh…say you do.

“Boots” is a surprisingly popular choice. You can also sell the right to choose, to someone else, then just take pot luck. Quite fun, if you’re feeling adventurous.

The picture is from The British Institution. It’s very British. I love it.

Oh well. It’s been deep-fried. How bad can it be?

Perhaps.

The lady is of course the magnificent Hunteress (also known as Cassie Canes), and the source is indicated on the watermark. Boris appears courtesy of SlavesForMovies Inc.

They also provide a complimentary paddle, by the minibar, and there’s a shackle in the bathroom. It’s those little touches that make the difference between simply staying in a hotel and having an experience there.

Sounds fair.

The caption for the picture above was loosely inspired by this rather excellent video on humiliation. You’ve probably already seen it, but if you haven’t I recommend it. The lady involved is…well, not exactly vanilla, but she’s not femdom particularly either, as this is one of a large series of talks about various sexual practices. But as well as talking about it, from time to time she simply slips in some actual verbal humiliation. For some reason, the fact that she does so in such a matter of fact manner, reading from a script with cheerful interest…even the fact that the scene keeps cutting, particularly when she reaches for an inhaler because she’s got a cold… all that, just adds to the humiliation for me. I think it’s lovely. Anyway, there’s a bit where she says you have to be “punished for being so bad in bed”, and the phrase has stayed with me… and perhaps always will.