Contemplating the divine – Page 35 – 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.

Femdom Chat session

Oh hi, Mr Folkes. Yeah, I’ve drafted that report like you asked me. Sorry it took so long. I’ve tried to make it read like you wrote it yourself, like you asked.

Actually… well, if you’re interested, I thought I’d try something a bit hi tech, since no one else seemed to want to give the intern work. See, I realised there’s probably quite a lot of stuff out there that you’ve written, so one of these AI thingies ought to be able to write in your own style. Right? So I gave that ChatGPT thing a prompt about the report topic and ‘in the style of Mr Adrian Folkes’ and so on. But it came up with the weirdest stuff!

Look: here’s the bit about the new marketing initiative in Scotland:

Douglas fidgeted nervously as he stood in regulation shorts and cap outside Mrs Harcastle’s oak door. The quarterly sales figures were down by over 15%. Something would undoubtedly be said about that, he knew, and something would be done too. His heart sank as he contemplated that prospect. It was going to be hard, there was no point in pretending otherwise.

“Come!” he heard, and he tried to control the butterflies in his stomach as he turned the door handle. Mrs Hardcastle was standing there, the dreaded three-tailed tawse in one hand, his report in the other.

“So it seems middle-class ladies from Lothian in their fifties are particularly displeased with your performance, boy!” she sniffed, disapprovingly. “That most certainly includes me and I do not propose to leave the matter unremedied. Clearly, my previous efforts have not been sufficient and a more… vigorous approach is called for. Trousers down and bend over my desk.”

See what I mean? It’s… kind of about the Scottish marketing initiative but… weird.

Here’s another about the new office in Prague:

Madame Loreen leaned back, allowing the heels of her boots to scrape the pallid back of the quaking slave kneeling before her. The furniture in the new facility was barely adequate, she reflected, noting that the criss-crossed whip marks on her footstool’s buttocks suggested that her colleagues thought the same. Furthermore, the artwork that was supposed to decorate the walls had not yet arrived, so the Ladies had tried to brighten the place up by dangling slaves from steel manacles across most of the walls. At least the electricity was working, she thought, watching the slave on the wall before her jerk frantically, mewing into his gag, as the electrodes clamped to his nipples delivered random jolts of electricity.

Clearly, the contractor had failed in the tasks assigned to him. A special meeting had been arranged, at which all the Ladies would have a chance to express their displeasure with him. Her fingers curled reflexively around the handle of her bullwhip as she thought about that.

Yeah. It just produced something like that every time. Every item I tried: the GPT wrote up your monthly finance analysis as something about a princess and her ‘pay piggies’ for instance and it suggested replacing the contract cleaners with senior male managers dressed as little maids and spanking them until they met their targets. Oh, and the stuff about performance management was just brutal.

It’s weird isn’t it? Do you suppose there must be another Adrian Folkes out there, writing stuff like that? Only, I gave it your address and everything, so…

Anyway, looks like the technology has a long way to go, I ended up just writing the report myself. Old fashioned style. I’ll email it to you, shall I?

I hope you like it. I really made an effort… worked all night on it… I’ve got my internship review coming up, after all Mr Folkes. I’d love to work for this company… get a foot in the door of such a promising new business. I hope you’re going to make a submission to the review board.

I actually took the liberty of drafting one for you, using the GPT thing again. Funny: speaking of foot in the door, it’s mostly about feet, actually. My feet. And about you. Anyway, I don’t think it would be very suitable, but it might give you some ideas, if you’d like a copy?

Savage beauties

She thinks that there are always other credit cards. And she’s right, of course, there are. They don’t all belong to the same male but that doesn’t matter.

Many married couples never discuss money, but in the best-run marriages it’s discussed once and that’s that.

Kafka-trapping, eh? Curiously enough, George has always fantasised about this. I hope he enjoys the real thing just as much.

If she dreads it that much, why not just decide *not* to make him wear the No. 5s? Women are hard to understand sometimes.

Almost all the guys she fucks are insensitive brutes, so she needs someone in her life who cares about her feelings. Let’s hope he learns a bit of empathy.

As the world turns

… turning points! That’s all.

NB: I have just realised that the default comments policy on the blog required a name and email. I have switched this off, so you can comment as anonymously as you like (but please give yourself a name, at least in the body of the comment, so you’re not all just ‘Anonymous’. Unless of course, your name is actually ‘Anonymous’ which would be a cruel burden to bear).

Whipping posts

Also, she finds the whole idea of ‘going easy’ a bit uncomfortable. Dommes have their hard limits too, you know.

An EU delegation once visited to check that the OWK itself conformed to the relevant safety standards. I understand the ladies achieved a perfect score, in not conforming to a single one, but it is hard to say for sure as neither the report nor the delegation were ever released.

As my SO likes to point out: she is being merciful. A fact for which I am truly grateful.

Dommes can be a bit highly-strung. It’s probably the uncomfortable clothing.

This is the magnificently magnificent Gigi Allens. Who also makes vanilla porn movies – which is a sad waste of a powerful talent, but at least shows us what we are all missing and always shall.

Frustrating femmes

Increasingly, I find ‘the prospect of an orgasm’ is all there is, along with the memories of them too, of course. But my SO has other means of motivation, so that’s OK.

You might want to try to get used to it, just in case the witch doesn’t co-operate. Good thing you’ve got someone to look after you, anyway.

She’s a very sympathetic person – just ask the boys – but even her sympathy has its limits.

On that principle, I ought to be a very good person by now, but oddly my SO doesn’t agree.

It’s funny how vanilla sex workers can be crueller than the dommes. Without even knowing it, sometimes.

Beguiling

Honestly, she’s only a guest but she acts like she owns the place – me included.

Always a difficult moment in session, I find. But not as difficult as the consequences she’s outlining, obviously.

I hope they’re OK with it… some guys are a bit weird about being present with another man having sex. I know I am, even after all these years when it’s happened almost every night.

They say memories of bullying stay with you for life… I certainly hope so, because I’m trying to arrange a schoolgirl bullying session for next month and it’s likely to be bloody expensive.

Now she *says* they don’t need a male – but I don’t see *her* cleaning out the dustbins or doing the laundry, do you?

Controllable desires

They’re not a substitute for more traditional methods of marital control, of course, but they can help a husband get over those difficult first few weeks when he still has silly notions about freedom and suchlike.

Anyway, lightening never strikes twice, right?

She has strong views on the importance of self-esteem in education too – far too much of it around these days, for her taste.

Oooh – exciting! I wonder where you’re off to?

I myself am often tempted to wear my wife’s clothes, especially on really cold days, but I know it’s wrong and would only upset her.

Rigorous relationships

“Because I say so” is actually the best reason of all, I’ve found.

I’ve heard that ‘smelly feet’ is actually one of the flavours in those Harry Potter jelly beans, but you have to eat a lot of raspberry and cherry and other such pointless flavours while looking for one.

She hasn’t even got that right: that helmet’s definitely from the Franco-Prussian War of 1870. Do you think I should tell her?

Don’t worry: there’ll be lots of chances to apologise during and – taking an optimistic view of how it goes – after, too.

Surely you wouldn’t sacrifice your deeply held commitment to the principles of men’s lib, just to get into a relationship with a pretty woman? Because that would be shallow and demeaning. Wouldn’t it?

Her opinions

…although I share them, obviously, even the ones I haven’t been told about.

She’s taking this very casually at the moment, but don’t worry: I’m sure it’ll come up again in the next weekly reminder session.

Best to get it over quickly. After all, the whole point of chastity play is the chastity, not the orgasms. Some men don’t get that, at first.

Deniably, that is. I’m sure she could think of many, many things he could die of, were it not for the pettifogging legal system.

As it turned out, he did indeed ‘experience fresh challenges while continuing to deepen his existing skill set’ in his session with Strict Madame Lydia, so that worked out well too.

She gets a lot of job satisfaction. Not just the pain she gets to inflict, obviously, because she’s a professional with a keen interest in social rehabilitation. No: it’s the humiliation and the misery, too.