Contemplating the divine – Page 178 – 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.

Even more turning points

Goodness, all this turning is making me dizzy. By popular request, yet more of those captioned images of situatuons that are not female domination. Yet.

First two in the series here and here.

Oh, don’t worry. Just
because you’ve been asked in to see me, it doesn’t mean you’re having a ‘chat
with the boss’! I mean you are –
obviously – but not like that. I just
wanted to hear how things were going.

Great, great. Well, I
hear good things. Who knows – maybe
you’ll be joining us permanently when the internship is over!

Yes, well. We’ll see in… three weeks time, now, is it?

Just one small thing – before you go. You know of course that this company prides
itself on the way it treats all its staff with respect – male as well as
female, even young interns like you? So,
I don’t want you in any way to feel offended or insulted by this, but –

But… your clothes. I couldn’t help noticing. I
mean, of course they’re in line with the company dress code, but – could be a
little sharper, hmm?

Like what? Well, like those trousers you’re wearing, for example. I mean, baggy trousers like that are fine for
students, but in a business place, perhaps they’re a bit too baggy?

Well I think they’re baggy. I mean, they’re not tight are they? It’s up to you what you wear – of course.
But I like to see our staff looking smart. And a nice tight pair of trousers looks very
smart on a boy – I mean a young man like you.

And maybe you don’t have to wear long trousers all the time,
you know? We keep the office nice and
warm, so why not show your legs occasionally?
I’m sure you’ve got lovely legs. Shorts are quite fashionable just now, aren’t they? Especially in nice bright colours. Yellow’s very cheerful, I always think.

Anyway, it’s none of my business. What do I know about boys’ fashion – I’m just your boss!

And this was just a friendly chat. My decision on whether to give you a permanent job or let you go certainly won’t
depend on whether you dress in dumpy old trousers or smart shorts! It’s my decision alone, so you don’t need to worry about anyone else’s opinion, OK? I know it’s a very important matter for you, so I want you to feel completely confident I’ll be quite impartial.

That’s all. Off you go now. Have a great weekend and I’ll see you here on Monday!

Back you go

Clocks went back in Europe last night.

Maybe I’ll do another one on the same subject next week, just for Americans and Canadians and so on.

Iterated domination

I took a course in game theory once. I was doing fine, but in the final exam there was a question about about ‘the prisoners’ dilemma under strictly dominated strategies’ … and for some reason after that I started thinking about something else, I just couldn’t concentrate and it all went wrong. I managed to scrape a passing grade by sucking up to the examiner, but that’s another story again.

More captioned images of female domination. I know you know, but the search engines need constant reminders, poor dears.

Women, eh? When they say they ‘want a talk’ it usually means we’ve done something wrong, doesn’t it? Oh well… better let the little woman have her say, or we’ll never hear the end of it!

The image, of course, is from a very wonderful Cruella photoshoot from…oh, at least twenty years ago.

Yes, Ma’am, that spanking has made me think. Is there anything in particular you’d like me to think? Just say – I’ll think it.

This lovely lady is Miss Audrey Knight. No idea who he is. Some bloke.

I don’t know how she catches so many. Yet there aways seem to be more when she locks you in the basement for the night.

Multitasking… it’s a woman thing.

Another Cruella shoot, more recent.

You’re not a sweaty loser are you? No, didn’t think so. And I’m not a creepy pervert. So that’s all right, then.

Dommestic violence

More of the usual kind of thing follows this short announcement.

Just go along with it. In a few hours, you’ll be married and then I expect we’ll find out who’s really in charge!

Try hard. Think of plastic ducks and teddie bears. And next time – if you survive – try to click the right fucking box, OK?

He’s losing.

Normally, I want to make clear, I write all the captions featured on this site. But this is by someone else. There’s actually quite a lot of his work featured on the web, if you like it.

I’m sure you do. Or you will.

Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks

The Lady of Situations.

Here is the man with three
staves, and here the Wheel,

And here is the one-eyed
merchant, and this card,

Which is blank, is something
he carries on his back,

Which I am forbidden to see.

Sorry – just thought we needed some better poetry, after my recent efforts. On with the show

She’s quite strict, too. Try to get the sums right.

Actually, it’s the beatings that are about you that are the worst.

Resistance is futile.

Actually, a remarkable 23% of drownings occur at home. I think this is probably how. Stay safe – always do your chores to her satisfaction.

This is from the English Mansion and features Mistress Sidonia von Bork and Mistress Vixen, I believe. Oh – and ‘Unknown male cadaver #14, recovered from the river Trent at 05.25, 17 September 2013.’ according to the Police report.

No. I wouldn’t. I’d want to stay there forever.

A poem what I wrote

As you all know, when the muse strikes me (and she frequently does, because she’s like that) I have been known to write poetry.

I suspect none of you like it much, but I don’t really care because the male majority of you are masochists and probably deserve to suffer by reading bad poetry, while I live in hope that the few female readers might be so angered that they resort to abuse in the comments…. mmmm.

So, anyway, here is a silly little poetic parody. Of a kid’s poem. I’m not going to use the name of the author, as I don’t want children or anyone looking for things for children to find the blog. Oh all right, well it sounds like “Dokter Soos”, OK?

I mean, you either know the poem or you don’t, and if you don’t you won’t like it anyway, so… Original is here.

Did I ever …?

When I was quite young
And small-cocked (to my shame)
I met a wise domme (quite like Gloria Brame)
And she told me the following startling fable,
While strapping my hands to the legs of the table.

“When you’re feeling the fear

When you’re beaten and cold

And your safeword is near

You should do as you’re told!

Just tell yourself, cuckie, you’re really quite lucky

Some people are much more

Oh ever so much more

So much, muchly much more unlucky than you!”

Be grateful you’re not in the cruel Czech Republic

With Madame Kat’rina, performing her sub trick

Up there on the stage, helping out with the magic

With consequences that for the sub are quite tragic.

She fastens the box, round your balls and your cock

And closes the lid, so it clicks in the lock.

Then she taps her wand thrice, while the viewers look on

And opens the lid – and your balls are both gone!

She smiles and bows gratefully to the applause

As you scream out in pain in your gag, for of course

You’ve seen the trick sides, and the knife that resides

In the hollow, to cut you when Madame decides

Leaving you – well… with a loss, with a lack

And none of her magic is bringing it back.

Think she works you too hard?

Think of poor Andy Lard

He has to dig holes, ‘neath the whip of a guard

And when her shift’s ended

His task’s not suspended

The night guard comes out, and she sees what her friend did
–

The holes with their earth piles, built up right beside ‘em

She thinks they’d look neater, with earth back inside them!

And laughingly flicking her taser to ‘ten’

She orders poor Andy to fill them again.

So think of that, cuckie,

Remember you’re lucky

Some people are much more unlucky than you.

Oh the jobs people work at! Out east near Southend

A young toilet slave, nicknamed Harry U-bend

Is strapped to the floor, his hands tight by his side,

With a rubber ring holding his mouth gaping wide

His job is to lie there for hour after hour

Alongside the bath and the basin and shower

Until she appears and she sits down above

– this lady to whom he has pledged all his love –

And soon she starts reading, and sometimes starts humming

And Harry – poor Harry – knows just what is coming

I’ll spare you the details, they’re messy and smelly

He swallows it all like it’s ice cream with jelly!

And shortly thereafter, it’s time for the wipe

And the tissue is also thrown into the pipe

That’s plumbed into Harry – he’s forced then to swallow

And gulp it all down, with a tampon to follow

(but only once monthly, to Harry’s relief

As he finds that the little threads catch in his teeth).

And every so often some friends come to tea…

You’re not U-bend Harry, you’re lucky – you see?

And poor Manny Morti

At school at age forty!

His teacher, Miss Bircham, is stubborn and haughty

When he came to her, she said she’d teach him by rote

All the poems of Java, word perfect to quote

But he doesn’t speak Javan and so he’s still learning

Right there at his desk with his bottom all burning

And there he will stay, with no breaks, not a breather

For his teacher, Miss Bircham ,speaks no Javan either!

Think your clothes are too tight?

Try the town of Van Krite

Where the men are tight-laced every Saturday night.

Their wives like to dress them in clothes that compress them

To punish, humiliate, crush and oppress them

And this works just swell, though for men it’s sheer hell

So they’re meek and obey, and they never rebel

So each night on the Sunday, by then barely breathing

They plead for release from their cramped awkward sheathing

And by Monday morning, they’re free to go out

And work at their jobs, while their wives lounge about

From Monday for six days they labour away

Returning on at last on the punishment day

They hand over their earnings, every last cent

With all the receipts for the little they’ve spent

Then sometimes they’ll get just a few with the cane,

Before it’s the time for tight-lacing again!

So…

Be thankful, my cuckie, you’re really quite lucky!

Some people are much more…

..oh ever so much more…

… so much muchly much more…

…unlucky than you!

More turning points

This is the second in what is turning into a series, currently of two. Part 1 here. It’s captioned images of situations that aren’t femdom! Pretty exciting huh? If rather a risky development, for a blog about errr, femdom.

But the point is that these are situations that could develop into female domination. Rather quickly, in most cases. In some there is a choice, in others there isn’t. But whether you take the choice to turn, or the choice is made for you… these are turning points.

If it’s a bit too mild for you try…well, almost any page on this blog, really. This, for example.

Time for change

Oh – honey. About
last night… look, next time you meet him, could you be a bit less weird around
Adrian? I mean, goodness, he just
mentioned his operation and you looked like you were having a panic
attack. And then you spent the rest of
the evening staring at his crotch.

Yes, it was very noticeable.
Honestly – anyone would think you hadn’t met anyone who’d been castrated
before.

Don’t be silly – of course you have. You know Simon, don’t you, and Fernando and –

Yes, of course he is. Simon had the op almost – oh I don’t know, two years
ago now. Jeanne told me. And there’s Eric of course. Eric was castrated ages ago. He was one of the first, in our circle.

Yes he is. Honey, I’m
not going to argue about this! Well,
maybe you didn’t know, but believe me Eric’s got nothing down there any more. Angie had a few friends over the day it was
done.

No, well it’s a girl thing, you
wouldn’t have been invited.

You know, actually I think it might be harder to think of
which of the married men we know hasn’t been cut. There’s Alex of course – Karen’s been trying
to get him to the clinic for years now, but you know how stubborn he is. And Malcolm and Kate, but that’s because
they’re still trying to have children.
Kate doesn’t want IVF for some reason, so they’ve agreed they won’t do
it yet.

Paul? Hmmm. I don’t know actually. I haven’t heard anything. Amelia doesn’t like to talk about private things like that. But he does seem a lot calmer than he used to be, don’t you think? Sort of placid. That’s often a sign – it’s because the testosterone isn’t there any more, apparently. Maybe he is. Gosh – it’s almost everyone then, isn’t it?

I guess we’re just at that kind of age. Like a few years back, when everyone seemed
to be getting married, and then everyone seemed to be having kids. We’re a bit behind, this time, I suppose.

Oh, stop looking so panicked. We don’t have to talk about it any time soon,
if you don’t want! I’m fine with how
things are just now. You know I am. They do say it’s best
to get it done before you’re 45, that’s the only thing. And that would still give me time to enjoy a
few younger men before I hit the menopause.

But there’s no rush.
Maybe some time after the summer holidays? You’ll probably want to have sex when we’re
in Portugal, after all. It would make
the holiday really special, knowing it was the last time for you, don’t you
think?

Anyway, we can talk about it another time. Do you want to watch some TV?

Disciplined loving

She’s right, you know. If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. And in any case, a man should fear his wife, I think, don’t you?

Actually, that’s a bit surprising. Because I seem to remember her saying with a giggle once that she’d heard one of her new freinds had a soundproofed rape room in his basement. Oh well… maybe that was someone else.

Think fast. The tip of the whip can move at over 100 mph.

This is Lady Victoria from Cruella (and from a long time ago

– thank you for the adolescent memories, Mr Rogue-Hagen and Ladies).

We all say things we regret, from time to time. It’s part of married life.

That’s a relief. Let’s hope she ticked the ‘anaesthetic’ option. She can be so forgetful.