Life (of a sort) imitating no sort of art

 Not a proper post today, but continuing in the same theme of actual things that actually happened to the actual me...

So... I had a wonderful session last week with my wonderful beautiful smart creative and witty regular domme.  And one of the wonderful things this wonderful person decided to do was have me kneel before her while she read a poem and occasionally she'd stop and I had to guess the rhyming word and if I didn't get it right she slapped my face.

And that's a lot of fun if you're me.  And the poem she chose was The Raven by Poe.

And I was just thinking as I knelt there, looking happily into her smiling face, that this is quite a strange thing for a sex worker (that is a term she uses and is proud of) to do.  I mean, some sex workers presumably have actual sex, although that's not an activity I've ever tried in session. We all have our limits, after all.  Sitting there, fully clothed, reading poetry and occasionally slapping someone is an odd thing for a sex worker to do.  If you think about it and I was thinking about it, while also frequently trying to guess a rhyme and being slapped when necessary.

 

 

And then she got to the line "And is there balm in Gilead" and I suddenly had a profound moment of deja vue (and a good hard slap) as I remembered this:

...which I had previously posted in my almost universally unpopular series of 'Rule 18' posts, in which I put up pictures (usually uncaptioned) of lovely ladies dressed or behaving weirdly, and one is supposed to imagine the poor things gamely trying hard to fulfill some usually unseen client's ludicrously over-complicated sexual fantasy. 

 I particularly liked the one above... even though I had to caption it.  It's the expression of vague embarrassment on the blonde lady's face and the way her colleague declaiming is making such an effort to get it right.  (My wonderful domme did it effortlessly of course).

The original 'Advice to a novice domme' post defining a 'Rule 18' violation is below:

 

That's all for today.  Abnormal service as usual from now on.

Oh all right then, you've read this far, you can have one new captioned image.  Advice to a novice domme, obviously.  Which (for the avoidance of doubt) my own wonderful, clever, elegant, creative and perfect domme does not need.

Out-takes

Even a highly professional operation like Contemplating the Divine gets it wrong sometimes.  As this blog is more than ten years old, I thought it might be fun to open the vaults and find a few of the captions and images that ended up on the cutting room floor - when things didn't go according to plan!

Creating a captioned image involves bringing together lots of different things: the photo, the characters, the situation, the witty plot twist and, of course, the grammar to keep Tom Allen at bay.  It's a difficult balancing act, requiring great skill to produce a polished finished product, so it's no surprise an incompetent little twerp like me never succeeds in that. Even churning out the tired, derivative and shoddy captioned images that usually adorn these posts, though, there's much that can go wrong...  as we shall see. 

 

 

But the director didn't say cut...

Now, our first example today shows how even the most professional performers can get it wrong. A castration shoot, obviously.  I can't recall the planned caption, maybe it was something to do with him asking for all those weights to be removed as quickly as possible.  Anyway, a professional submissive model down there, coping manfully (i.e. squealing his little head off) with the weights on his genitals, self-same genitals feeling the razor-sharp edge of a pair of professional bolt-cutters, wielded by a beautiful lady from Cruella.  Proper bolt-cutters, mind - beautifully made so that a smooth and easy pressure on the handles translates through the power of physics and leverage ito an unstoppable pressure as the blades remorselessly close... just the thing to give our readers a little thrill, in the safety of their darkened bedrooms.  

A perfect set-up, you'll surely agree.  So what went wrong?  Well, just at the moment this picture was taken, just when the caption was about to be added to the finished product, a low-flying RAF training flight created a sonic boom up and down the remote valley where the shoot was taking place, the poor lady jumped out of her skin and... the rest was history. Or biology perhaps... rather messy biology too.

It was no one's fault.  Everyone was as sympathetic as they could be.  The fighter jet pilot was horrified when she found out, the cameraman did his best to help, the Cruellan lady was... OK, she wasn't enormously sympathetic if I'm being entirely honest, but she did mutter 'Soz' as he was taken off in the ambulance.  The shoot wasn't a complete write off: I actually managed to get some rather gruesome captioned images done, but so far my innate decency and a profound desire not to be arrested have prevented me posting them.  And don't worry: the guy is still a guy, you know? Still very much a man.  Since the Gender Recognition Act was passed, all he had to do was self-declare as a male and so he is treated as a fully functional man for all legal purposes.  Almost all, anyway.  So... just one of those things, I guess.

Thrills and spills

Ah, now this one was my fault, I am afraid. Very much my fault. I apologised to the lady concerned and still do, on a regular basis. The skirt was a write-off, the shoot was abandoned...  what can I say? Fortunately, my SO has since come up with a solution to prevent this happening ever again.

Way around wrong

So... the shoot has gone off perfectly, the images of the lovely ladies and slug-like men are all saved on the encrypted hidden drive and a caption has been created.  Nothing left to go wrong, right? Well... you've still got to get the caption onto the right image.  In the two pictures below, someone (with a name beginning with S) didn't manage to accomplish even that simple task.  Two pictures, two captions, Servitor - and you had one job!

Well, this mix-up resulted in not one but two captioned images that fell well below this blog's normal standards of coherence and had to be abandoned.  For which the management can only offer Servitor's heartfelt apologies.

The Snitch, her Teacher, the Maitresse and her Lover

Now, the pair of photos below tell the sorry tale of a failed photoshoot that - for once - was most definitely the fault of the ladies and not the author of this blog.  Everything had been arranged very carefully for a photoshoot with the above title that would have cemented this blog's place as the number one destination for anyone interested in strict schoolmistress femdom.  The script was elaborate, true, but you might expect that professionals would be able to cope with that.  I won't go through it in detail, but it involved a schoolgirl whose complaint had led to my being brought in to see the Headmistress, a nymphomaniac lesbian French teacher, a class teacher and of course the Head herself, all involved in a complex sequence of humiliation and discipline that ended with my being forced - forced humiliatingly - to masturbate before them all, kneeling on the floor.  Yum.

What went wrong, you ask?  I might ask 'what didn't?'.  The schoolgirl turned out to be more of a lesbian nympho than the lesbian nympho character, they all got 'interested' in each other, someone found a very large bottle of gin and they all got quite interested in that and pretty soon everyone (everyone female, that is) was too drunk to be safely in charge of a cane, kit off and fucking like rabbits. 

 

So: nothing very femdom came of it unless you count my cleaning up the vomit afterwards, it and I seriously considered not paying them the full fee but sadly there are downsides to being a submissive when it comes to financial bargaining with four beautiful women, even when they are badly hung-over.  I present, for the historical record, the two photos that just about manage to reflect the theme of this blog, before the whole thing went sideways.

Hot cross bunny

Now this one was... oh, do you know, even after all these years I can't really bring myself to talk about this one?  The memories are too painful.  I thought I was ready but... just move on, move on.  She was amazing, though: so professional.

Role reversal

 

Ah, now as you can tell from the picture, the lovely lady below turned up to the photoshoot having definitely not read the memo about what side of BDSM this blog celebrates!  The photo below is taken just when she, in her Gorean slave position, notices that I too am in a Gorean slave position and as we both think we're supposed to be following Gorean speech rules, neither can do much about it!

After an hour or two the impasse was broken and we had a lovely talk.  I don't know many female submissives (I find the whole concept a bit weird to be honest) but she was really nice.  She was very gentle and I could tell she didn't really like the idea of hurting me, but we got to talking and she had an idea for a kind of 'worm turns' scene where I'm a male dom (let's just skip over that bit: it was less than two minutes in the final photoshoot and I can only say I was no more convincing than you might imagine) and she's playing the sub and she's on her knees and just about to take me in her mouth when she suddenly decides to turn the tables, and then we get into nice healthy femdom play.  Just before we were about to start, she suddenly remembered something and asked if instead of being some generic dom being sucked off, could I be 'Master Paul' from Luton who wanted to come in her hair.  It seemed oddly specific but she insisted so I gave it a go and - boy!  For a subbie she certainly knew how to inflict pain!  I got one of the most brutal beatings I've ever experienced.  So it worked out OK in the end.

There's a funny post-script actually.  Just two weeks after this photo-shoot, I read about this guy called Paul Evans who was found beaten to death in a lay-by on the Luton by-pass.  He had semen in his hair (his own, goodness only knows how he'd managed it).

 

Amazing coincidence, huh?  But it's probably just another one of those things. Most things are.

Decadence: the Ladies

What would this blog have been over its 10 years of existence, without its regular Ladies?  Ridiculous question, as that's obviously where the main attraction lies.  Let's pay tribute (no really - get yourself to an ATM and stuff an envelope) to those 'regulars' who all unknowingly, unceasingly, uncaringly and without regard to copyright, so often enlighten this otherwise dismal corner of the Internet.  

Some domme, some vanilla - the sole criterion today is frequency of appearance.  So here they are again (and they will all be back).  Most names are hyperlinks.

Mistress Eleise

 Not a particularly interesting caption, I'm afraid, but when the image is perfection itself, who cares?

 

 

Ariadna

 

Mistress Mina

I have never met her, but her lovely, wicked smile is so much more fun to caption than the stereotypical 'domme grimace' that she features here a lot.

Emily

I have not met her either, obviously.  But I do envy her dog.

Mistress Sidonia

 

 

 

Gal

 Do you think we might like another picture of Gal?  I do.

 

 

The Ladies of Cruella (who took a flamethrower to my brain as a teenager in the 1990s). 

Link may not work but worth tracking down, as the guy who does 'modern Cruella' does seem to be the same as the one who did these all those years ago (he seems to keep re-doing his Internet sites, presumably trying to find ways to monetise this stuff - I hope he succeeds, as he deserves it).  The modern material isn't bad at all either, but I have very special memories of furtive visits to Soho to summon up the courage to buy magazines featuring these lovelies.

NB: I once saw them on sale on the top shelf of a regular Pakistani newsagent... I could never imagine asking in a context so vanilla.  "Yeah, 20 Silk Cut please mate and erm... have you got a copy of the latest Cruella?  Oh - that's last month's isn't it?  I'll take the Goddess, then: the one with the guy licking the boot.  Yeah, thanks.  Oh - and I'll have this Kit Kat too."

Madame Katerina 

Whose name I have spelled many different ways over the years.  Shhh... nobody tell her, please.   OWK came in just about the end of my teenage formative years.  They published magazines for a couple of years, because they started just before Internet femdom took off.  They had advertised for a year or so in Cruella et al before launching: extraordinary, evocative pictures of concentration camp femdom.  The magazines did not disappoint, when they finally arrived.  Impressively high production values, and a convincing commitment to the fantasy.  I don't care in the least whether it was 'real' in any meaningful way or not, I really don't.

Megyn

My 'President Hathaway' series would be rather shorter, without Megyn Kelly.  I've never actually watched her on TV, I doubt I'd like her politics.  But boy, does she look the part.  In fact, Fox News (now without her) appears to feature almost nothing but leggy, imperious blondes which is (for me) essentially its only saving grace.

And although I'm mostly heterosexual (or would be, if anyone ever let me), I've got to admit Trudeau does have a very spankable butt...

Nata Lee

A lovely Russian model.  A lot of her content out there consists of what I must regretfully call 'tit and bum' shots, which I think rather unnecessary, given her sweet, extraordinarily pretty face.  But of course, that's up to her.

Lady Sophia

 Wonderful domme, whose in-session persona was actually very similar to this.  Retired now, so no link - sorry, you're just too late and that's that.

Divine Mistress Heather

Rodea and Cindi

I know, I know... Miami/American Mean Girls is a very commercial site, nothing at all authentic about it - even some questionable content recently too.  But unlike almost all the mean girl 'hey loser' content out there, a lot of it is done very well and these two especially are lovely: their disdainful personas perfectly matching their elegant beauty.  'Goddess Rodea', incidentally, has moved on to other things and clearly despises the whole humiliation fetish scene.  Which just makes it even better, ironically...

Young Goddesses, especially Irina

No link for this one because the guy who used to make them took against the whole business and links to his sites now just lead to complaints about the unprofessionalism of the ladies he had to work with, along with warnings about the perils of excessive masturbation - and not in a good way.

But there are some lovely images of some lovely Russian ladies, doing quite unpleasant things, out there.

Irina is the one on the left, showing off her trademark delightful, amused smile.  She is findable on the Internet as Irina or occasionally as Cofi Milan and she smiles a lot.

The Hunteress

 

and of course...

Femdom and story-telling

As regular ‘readers’ of this blog will know, I don’t go in much for discussion of the philosophy and practice of ‘real’ femdom.  This blog doesn’t try to be realistic; it’s just supposed to be fantasy and fun.

But at the risk of trespassing on Paltego’s turf I do have a question to the ‘community’ to see what they think and it is this: is femdom porn (or any kind of kinky porn, perhaps) just more interesting than ‘regular’ porn?  

This question has occurred to me for a few reasons.  One is that we are coming up to this blog’s ten-year anniversary (more on that in a couple of weeks' time) and I have been looking back through my own witterings.  The other is that, for various reasons, I have been revisiting some magazines that were my first proper femdom porn – Cruella, Goddess, Vixen and Mistress – and reminding myself how extraordinarily exciting I found them to be, in my early 20s.  I hung on every word of their stories, could barely read more than a sentence or two at a time without having to put them down, swooning with excitement and savouring the anticipation of where the story would go next.

And that’s the point: femdom porn (the sort I like, anyway) tells a story.  There’s a lot that can happen in that story: fear, dread, forgiveness, revenge, cruelty, false hope, humiliation, trickery etc etc.  I spend a lot of time trying to think up new ways in which the ladies in my captions and stories can be cruel, preferably with an unexpected twist, and from time to time I succeed.  I’ve been doing that for ten years on this blog and I am not finished yet.  I’m not saying every caption or story I put up is a new idea – far from it, there are some well-worn themes – but some are new and I certainly seek out and value novelty.  Mainstream porn seems to lack that element… fundamentally, it’s about the sex act.  There are various inventive ways in which one can lead up to the sex act (it doesn’t have to be a plumber coming around to fix her pipes) and then there are some variations in the sex act itself, to be sure: different holes, combinations, positions.  But that does not seem to close the story-telling gap – the femdom porn I like won’t usually feature any sexual acts at all, it is all ‘story’.  And it should have unexpected twists and inventions that make the reader think 'I never thought of that', if it’s good.

I am raising this question about porn, but it applies to femdom more generally.   Although some of the pro-dommes I have sessioned with allow a 'happy release' at the end, not all do and it is certainly not the main focus of the session.  That might be humiliation, control, pain: again, a good domme (and there are so many wonderful ones) constructs a narrative, a story.

 

Femdom porn image.  There's a lot going on here.  One could write 5-6 different stories about this at least.  Why is he in the cage, how did she get him in there?  What is going to happen to the collared guy lying on the floor?  She's wearing boots: is she going to kick him, stomp him, make him lick them...?  There's a cane, on the couch.  What is the significance of the steel box to the right - is someone else in there already, is one of these two going in there?  Is the box a 'next level' punishment after the cage?  She is looking at us - so are we there?  Are we next?  There is so much here for the imagination.

 

And mainstream porn (from the first page of a search just with the word 'porn'). I can see they're having a lot of fun.  And again, one could tell stories of what happened before and what might happen next - but not stories specifically inspired by elements of the picture.  I can understand that other people find 'mainstream' sex as exciting as I find femdom to be, but the porn itself, the fantasy itself just seems a lot less... interesting. 

 

To make it a bit more personal: my own sexuality is 100% kinky.  That is, I don’t get excited at all by thoughts of vanilla sex.  If I watch a mainstream porn video, I can get a bit into the suggestive looks and flirting in the initial five minutes, but then the remainder of it – the grinding and licking and thrusting and so on – does nothing for me.  But I am absolutely obsessed with femdom fantasy, as the ten years of this blog demonstrates.  I know that some others like both mainstream and femdom, so maybe they are better placed to answer the question than I am.

I’m porn-addicted, in fact – I can spend many hours at a time on the Internet looking for and writing femdom stuff, I can lie in bed for hours constructing elaborate scenarios and so on…  I won’t provide sweaty details.  But I guess what I am wondering, is: if I did not have this kink, would I be as interested in ‘normal’ sexual fantasies as I am in femdom fantasies; interested in the same way?  If only my inclination were that way – if I were magically transformed by some kind of psychotherapy so that instead of fantasising about being humiliated and punished by women, I just fantasised about having sex with them?  Would I seek out and construct equally elaborate fantasies?  Could I have put up 5000 captioned images about people having sex, instead of the 5000 or so I have published on my more twisted and evil themes?  Would I enjoy looking back through them and reminding myself of what I came up with as much as I do?

It doesn’t seem to me that I could or would.  There just doesn’t seem to be enough going on in ‘normal’ sex.  I certainly feel that if I were 'normal' I would have lost something because the vanilla imagination is much more limited, even though there would obviously also be advantages (less need for secrecy, better integration of my sexuality and my personal relationships). But is that actually true, or does that just reflect the limits on my imagination created by my existing sexual orientation?

Freely given

Some years ago, I decided that as a fairly experienced sub, I had something of a duty to use this platform to share my experiences and advice about visiting professional dommes.  After all, it can be nerve-racking for a first-timer, and it's hardly something you can ask your friends at work about!  Unless your work is as a male maid for a dominatrix, I suppose.  But that's quite rare. 

Anyway, the reaction was very positive and it - well, I certainly didn't get any complaints - and I'm older and even wiser now, so here are a few more tips from Servitor: advice to a novice sub.

No, don't bother to thank me.  Just the thought of some nervous first-timer walking into a 'femdomme sex dungeon' and trying one or more of these ideas out is reward enough!

If you liked these, you'll find more of this sort of thing by clicking this here link, so I suggest you do so.  If you didn't like these, you won't want to click that because you'll find more things you don't like.  Perfectly simple, even for boys, yeah?

Oh: and watch out for Servitor's exciting new series: Advice to a novice domme!  Coming soon.  Ish.

Excruciatingly pleasurable

Why bring up painful old memories?  She seems nice... maybe it's time for a fresh start?

Oddly enough, I never experienced corporal punishment as a child.  My SO says we have to make up for lost time, and she's probably right.  She usually is.

Why do my dates always end up like this?

 

Traditional country sports went through a bit of a low patch in the years between the Foxhunting (Prohibition) Act and the Sexual Offences (Remedial and Preventative Measures) Act, but they're now more popular than ever, even though men aren't allowed to take part.  As riders, I mean.

Oh dear.  She's right, you know.  I am a very, very bad person. Fortunately, this very evening I am visiting someone to whom I have given a lot of money to beat me for my sins.  So that's all right.

Realism

... a bit of a theme to these ones, that I have been playing around with lately.

 

Realism in BDSM

Occasionally I get comments from 'readers' objecting to a lack of realism in some of my captioned images.  And although, obviously, I like to claim that everything depicted here is true to life, that's what my Significant Other likes to term 'a lie' and I know what happens to little boys who lie, don't I? Yes I do.

....

Sorry, where was I?  I started thinking about something else.

Oh yes!  Realism. Right, well I have the perfect excuse because just over there to the right, in the blog-blurb written on the very first day of this blog's existence (January 2011...oh, I was young, carefree, innocent), I make quite clear that everything here is a total fantasy (I'm not really called 'Servitor', I don't own a computer and I actually can't speak English, as it happens), so there and yah boo, I win the argument!

However, I recognise that there are those who like their kink a bit more on the realistic side, so in total contradiction to everything I've ever said on the subject, here are some captioned images that try to capture aspects of femdom as it's practised in the real world.