Monday, April 15, 2013

Cruel and usual punishment

Don't you think it's odd?  That men who say they regard women as superior, also believe that being treated like women is humiliating?  Isn't that weird?  I mean I feel like that.  And I'm not weird.  Odd, like I said.
 
 


I don't really believe in horoscopes anyway.  "You will visit a pro-domme, and be made to dance to k-pop wearing a pink tutu while Mistress and her friend laugh at you, and then make you eat cold courgettes with curry powder."  I mean, it's just generic stuff that could apply to everyone, right?
 
 
 
It's a good thing we like being treated with contempt, nicht wahr?
 



You'd better read the whole thing through, because I'm sure she'll have got 'minuscule' wrong, and she usually forgets there are two 'p's in 'disappointing'.

 
 
 

Actually, you don't really even have to ask.  If she hasn't already bought it for you, you probably don't really need it, do you? 

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Spring break

Finally, Spring is here and not before time!  About this time in the very first year of my marriage, my wife shyly confessed that she's always fancied the idea of going on spring break - a week of hedonism and sex by the sea.  I was a bit reluctant at first, but as usual, she got her way.

It's become quite an annual routine in our marriage - and it does give me a chance to give the house a really good spring cleaning while she's away.



Domme doesnt give a fuck
Argh!  Don't you just know that in a few hour's time, a really good answer to that question will just pop into your head!  But by then it'll be much too late.  Always the way, isn't it? This is the awesome Mistress Vixen, of course.
 
 
 
 
Die for her femdom
Well?  Come on!  As she's made such an effort to look nice, and someone's died horribly as a result, I think the least you can do is pay her a little compliment on her appearance?  Hmm?

 
 
Yes, femdom medical play can be a bit unimaginative.  The other day, my Significant Other broke my arm,and when I joked that this was a perfect time for medical play, I was up in the harness having a rectal examination before I knew it!  And when I said I didn't think it was working, she broke my other arm!  Dommes, eh?  Gotta love 'em. 
(Mistresses Sidonia von Bork and Nina Birch of the English Mansion.  They might not be able to cure you, but they'll certainly have a go.)
 
 


IN you go mistress
Brno's not that far.  A couple of hours, at most.  It can be a bit hard to find a locksmith at the weekend, though.
Image from OWK and quite possibly Mistress Karma, although I'm not sure I could swear to that, even under torture.
 
 

Ah, the joys of summer.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Off-topic, for the first time ever

To an Anonymous commenter

There was a comment left on here a couple of days ago that I deleted.  If that was yours, I want to explain that I did not delete it because of the point you made – which I actually think was a reasonable one deserving an answer – but because of the unpleasant and hostile way in which you phrased it.
You suggested that I am putting the name of this blog on every picture I find on the web.  I actually don’t think of that as what I’m doing when I put contemplatingthedivine.com on them.  I’m putting that mark on captioned pictures, captioned by me.  When I do occasionally put up a picture without any caption, I don’t put the mark on it.

You see, this is not a photo-sharing blog.  Originally, I started it to publish my stories.  I still write stories – there are a few coming up soon, actually.  I soon started adding captioned images, which I think of as very very short stories, in effect (and as a matter of fact, recently I’ve been trying out a sort of hybrid – which could equally be called very long captions, or very short stories themed around a single picture).  These are all things that I created.

There are a lot of them. I have just collected all the stories published here into pdf files, because I thought they might work well as books*, and they total over a hundred pages.  And there are about a thousand captioned images so far.
A few months after I started, I saw a few of these captioned images appearing elsewhere – which is absolutely fine with me.  Sometimes they were attributed (most recently Pipinkos, for example, started reposting some that he had brilliantly translated into Spanish, and I’d like to thank him again for that).  But some were not attributed and while I don’t at all blame the reposters, it did annoy me a bit, especially when they attracted favourable comments from people assuming the reposter wrote them.

I do try quite hard to match up pictures and words.  I do think about and occasionally agonise over the words.  I don’t just put up every sexy picture I find, with whatever threatening phrase comes to mind scrawled across it.  I’m not suggesting for a second that this is a particularly worthy, or artistic activity but it is creative in its way, I am rather proud when I come up with a good one (as I think I do from time to time), and I like to be recognised for that.  Hence the mark.  I am not marking the pictures; my intention is to mark the caption.
There is also a practical reason.  I can see from site stats that I get traffic when one of my captioned pictures is posted elsewhere without attribution, presumably because someone typed in the name.  I like to have more traffic here (for purely psychological reasons, obviously there’s no money involved) and if it helps someone find the blog and they enjoy it, that’s good too.

I do realise there are some people who don’t much care for the captions and treat this site as a photo-sharing blog.  Again, that’s absolutely fine with me, and I hope you enjoy it.  But I don’t see how someone just looking for photos can complain about the unobtrusive contemplatingthedivine mark (I never put it where it will obscure the image; if I can I put it on the frame).  If you just want the photo and the caption is worthless to you, then I’ve already defaced the photo by writing the caption, right?  And if the caption isn’t worthless to you – well, then it’s not unreasonable for me to add the mark, right?  Either way, I can’t see that you could object to the mark.
Of course, I would always take down any image to which someone asserted rights, without question.
So….that’s how I would answer your sneering question, Anonymous.  I really don’t understand why, in your first ever communication with me, you couldn’t have made your point a bit more politely, but it was a fair point nonetheless.  It’s an answer that makes sense to me. 
 
 
(The rest of the post is addressed to my regular readers, rather than the uncivilised Mr A.)

…and yet, and yet…thinking about this, it does all make me a bit uneasy.  In retrospect I think perhaps I have been too blasé about attribution.  If I got a bit grumpy when I saw my unattributed work on another site, how would a photographer feel about seeing their own work, captioned by me, and unattributed here?  Worse, if a pro-domme has gone to the trouble of dressing up and posing or acting out a photoshoot, she’s done it in part because she hopes for more traffic to her site or for new clients.  Not very fair of me to use her lovely image, without even trying to identify her.

I do therefore intend to make more of an effort to attribute the images.  It’s not very practical to do much very quickly.  For one thing, I have a huge stock of downloaded photos and I don’t know the attribution (obviously I can recognise some).  I also have a large backlog of captioned photos – more than 300, all waiting to be posted…and I’ve even got blog posts queued up to mid-May through the magic of 'schedule' (what, you thought it was spontaneous?).  So this will be a gradual change. 

Also, in most cases I cannot attribute them because the places are find them are not the original creators.  Most are from Tumblr, for example, and although Tumblr has a neat system for attributing back, even the ‘original’ poster will rarely be the originator of the image, they’ll only be the first person to upload it to Tumblr.  OWK doesn’t have a Tumblr, after all.

But…butbutbut.  I will do my best.  As I create new captions, and download new photos, and put up new blog posts, I will attribute images if I can, and in particular if I can identify individual dommes I will do so. Famous actresses can probably look after themselves.



/rant
 
 
* (I'd like to find a way of getting them out there for download - Blogger doesn't accept PDF, any suggestions? Needs to be free, of course - I won't charge anything as all the stories are here on the blog anyway, but I don't particularly want to pay to hand out free stories!)

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Cut short

One caption and five short stories all about... oh, you'll see what the theme is.  Not for everyone, but those of you who like this theme seem to like it a LOT.


George goes looking
Of course, George knew he shouldn’t pry into her secrets.  But he really had stumbled across the little cloth bag by accident.  And, truth be told, after the initial shock, he was secretly rather turned on by the thought of his young, innocent (or not-so-innocent, he thought, deliciously) wife playing with herself.  The vibrator was quite complex, bifurcating at the end into two quite separate attachments, one ribbed and one smooth.  There were also several tubes of different brands of lubricator, a book of what he presumed to be mommy porn and a couple of DVDs.

Giving in to curiosity, he carefully placed one of the DVDs into the player, unbuttoned his trousers and settled back on the bed to watch.  While it was loading, he turned at random to one of the stories in the porno book.  The first page or two seemed to be all about a description of Derek, and his massive penis and balls, so he flipped quickly through the pages, looking for the sex scene.  It was a doctors and nurses story, it seemed and Derek soon got tied down and then –

Then the story seemed to go in a direction his brain could hardly process.  Derek’s massive balls remained the focus of the story, with much loving description of how elasticised tape was round around them tighter, and tighter, and then a metal dish was placed underneath, as one of the nurses reached forward with a pair of cutters and...and...
 
He looked up in shock.  The DVD was frozen on the menu screen.  A poor quality image filled the screen – obviously from a home movie – of a tightly gagged man staring out with eyes widened in terror.  Behind him were the blurry shapes of two middle-aged women, fully clothed, their faces covered by masks.  “Painful penectomy #19” read the title, inviting the viewer to press play or select scenes.  The little images of the later scenes showed…something impossible.

“George?” he heard from the bedroom door.



 

Full settlement
 
“Do I really have to do this?” he asked wretchedly, looking out through the stationary car’s windscreen at the semi-detached house opposite.

Emily squeezed his knee sympathetically.  “I know it’s difficult, Alan.  But you just have to do this once and then you’re a free man.  Actually, you’re keeping more than most men do, these days. Take it from me – I’ve been a divorce lawyer for nine years, and it’s never been as difficult for men as it is now.  At least you kept 20% of your income.  Come on, let's go in.” 

“Into my very own house” Alan muttered, as he got out and they started to cross the road.

“Best not to think like that” Emily advised.  “It’s her house now, so there’s no sense in moping about it.”

“But does she have to make it all so public?” Alan murmured despairingly as they arrived.  And it was true – Karen had really made a party of it.  As the laughing, chatting crowd parted to let them through, he thought he recognised several of his ex-girlfriends.  And he got an evil stare from Karen’s friend Janice.  He’d always hated Janice and the feeling was mutual.  In fact, he strongly suspected that Janice had inspired his wife to divorce him, and to fight so hard through the courts.

“It’s quite the fashion” Emily admitted.  “Actually, I did it when I divorced my husband too.  Women love to come to settlement parties.  Especially when there’s a castration involved – oh look, there’s Karen.  Come on – it’ll all be over soon enough.”

“All here to watch me lose everything.” Alan sighed, as he walked slowly forward to where the desk with the freshly printed papers was waiting for his signature, next to a table with leather straps waiting – he assumed – for his wrists and ankles.  He kept his head down, not meeting Karen’s eyes  - but instead found his gaze drawn to the shining instrument she was clutching in her hand.  

 
Cliché
“You know” she said, kindly, “actually I’m quite embarrassed.  I mean, it’s such a cliché, isn’t it?  Sexy woman picks up a guy in a bar, suggests some mild bondage, and then turns into some kind of psychopath when he’s all tied up.”

“So…you’ll let me go?” he gasped, desperately.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll let you go, sweetie” she giggled.  “Most of you, anyway.  Now I’ll be back in a few minutes, when I’ve sterilised the instruments.  And like they always say in the bad movies - don’t go away!”

 

Last chance
“But – “ Christopher pleaded despairingly.

“No argument” the doctor said, sternly.  “They’re both infected, and if we don’t amputate immediately the infection’s going to spread.  I’m sorry, but there’s no other option.  Nurse!  Can you prep the patient for immediate surgery?” And he walked off.
“Sorry love” the buxom blonde nurse remarked sympathetically, as she started to draw the curtain’s around Christopher’s bed.  He sat back, devastated.  This was not how he imagined being nineteen would be.

“Nurse” he quavered, as she injected something in his arm.
“Yes, love?  Anything I can get you?  It’ll take a few minutes for the anaesthetic to take hold.  Then you’ll feel all relaxed.”

“It’s just…well, I’m still – still a virgin!”
And he started crying.

“Awww…there there” she shushed.  “Poor thing.  Never mind – there’s other things in life.”
He looked up at her hopefully, and she got his meaning.

“Why you cheeky little – I’m old enough to be your –“
But then her heart melted at his sad little face.  “Oh – I’d like to help, love, I really would.  As it’s your first time; well your only time actually.  Only it’s my time of the month!  I’m sorry.”

Then she had an idea, and smiled, first to herself and then down at him.  “You just hold still then” she murmured, gently lifting his surgical gown aside.  Then she licked her ruby-red lips, while smiling down, now gazing at the excited swelling rising up to meet her from below.
She bent down, and he could feel her hot breath, against the straining, shiny, taut glans of his engorged penis. She opened her lips, giggled slightly, and –

“CARDIAC ALERT!  CARDIAC ARREST IN WARD B.  ALL NURSES ENGAGED IN NON-ESSENTIAL PROCEDURES IN WARDS A-C TO WARD B IMMEDIATELY. IMMEDIATELY.”
“Ooops…sorry love.  Not your lucky day is it?”, she called over her shoulder, dashing away.

Feebly, Christopher lifted his right hand towards his still straining member, for one…last…
…and then the anaesthetic took hold, and he found he couldn’t move.  The nurse had been wrong.  He didn’t feel relaxed at all.

 

Listen very carefully, I will say this only once
“STOP THE PROCEDURE!” Isabell Green shouted, crashing through the operating theatre door.  “The DNA test says it’s mistaken identity! I’ve got a stay from the court!”

From all fours on the operating table, Mark looked up at his triumphant, panting lawyer, hardly daring to believe it.
Then he felt a sharp pain between his legs.  And heard a dull, wet thud.  Like a small piece of meat from the butcher’s shop falling, against a metal surface.  And in the background, that tinny, irritating music.

The music got a little louder as the doctor behind him looked up, and took out one of her earpieces.
“Sorry, what was that?” she asked.  “I had my i-pod in.”

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Holy terror

Pray for mercy...but maybe not just yet.

tawse schoolmistress yum
...and heaven help you if they don't add up to 48.


Three dominatrices and a cage
Don't worry, though - she retains some rights.  If they want to cause any permanent physical damage, they have to seek her permission first - and you'll be allowed to beg her for mercy.



Cross femdom wife
Let's hope she doesn't stay cross for long.

 
 
I don't know about you, but I'm always forgetting my permit.  It makes my wife so cross - you know, she said then  next time I get put in the pound, I can just stay there for a week or two as far as she's concerned!  She is funny...
 
 

Don't forget to tell her how fabulous you think she looks, and give her a kiss for good luck, before you go back to your lonely little apartment and switch on the computer.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Time to take the red pill


Another positive image of a healthy female-male relationship, bringing some sanity to this mad world.
 
 
“But why would anyone want such a thing?”, Sandra asked with genuine puzzlement.  “I mean – it’s so sick.”
Dr Taylor nodded gravely.  “It is quite bizarre” she replied.  “And of course most women react just the way you do.  That’s a normal, healthy reaction.  But some just crave the degradation, or maybe they’re just so bored with this ordinary world of ours that they’ll even fantasise about something as perverted as that, just for the thrill of it.”
Sandra nodded.  She was aware of “Male Dom porn” of course.  At school once, she’d come into possession of a battered magazine, that she’d eagerly hidden away on the assumption that it was the usual sexy images of men being beaten – stuff that was wildly exciting to an adolescent schoolgirl at the time, although pretty tame softcore stuff by today’s standards.  But this magazine had been something very different – full of photos of men standing over women, of women forced to wear little maids’ outfits and do housework, while men stood about without a chastity belt in sight and played with their penises.  Although thankfully there was no photo, one cartoon had even shown a woman on her knees, taking a man’s penis in her…in her mouth.  She had closed the magazine immediately in shock, and thrown it away but the image had haunted her for weeks.  She’d occasionally tried to tell herself it was just a slightly kinky sexy castration scene, as the woman was obviously about to bite the penis off.  But she knew in her heart that it was nothing so innocuous, but something much darker and more depraved.
She shuddered at the thought, and focused again on the screen in front of them.
“And this stuff is a sort of male dom fantasy site is it?  There’s some perverted old woman lying in her apartment somewhere wearing a VR suit and vibrating off to it?”
“If it was just that, it wouldn’t be so worrying” the Doctor replied.  “It’s not just a wanking scene – it’s more immersive than that.  These weirdos have constructed a whole alternative reality, in which normal life is turned upside down.  We think they used one of the newer MMOs as a base, but even so, the detail is incredible.  There are entire cities simulated here, you can buy newspapers and read them from cover to cover, books as well, TV… there’s even an Internet within this VR!”
“So someone could be living in it full time?  Would they know it’s not the real world?” Sandra asked in puzzlement.
“Well…you’d think so.” Dr Taylor replied.  “Not from any fault in the simulation itself, that’s perfect.  But the whole thing is just so bizarre and perverted no one normal could be fooled for a second.  You might go to work in an ordinary building, but there would be men in all sorts of positions of power.  Many of the simulation’s residents seem to get off on playing secretaries to bossy men, nurses to male doctors – that sort of thing.”
“Male doctors! “ Sandra chuckled, and Dr Taylor smiled.
“I know, it’s all quite ridiculous.  But look –they’ve even created an imaginary country – the United Kingdom.  They often do that sort of thing – take a perfectly ordinary word like “queendom” and masculise it.  I suppose they find that sexy.  But its political leader is a man, it has an army and police force of men in uniforms…all sorts of kinky stuff.  There’s another called the United States of America – now that one’s really weird.  And don’t even ask me about Saudi Arabia; that’s a kind of hard core enclave.  It’s a bit too much even for most of these sick perverts.”
“We’ve been aware of it for quite a while, but the increase in complexity and realism of the simulation that we’ve observed lately is quite alarming.  So we’ve decided to shut it down.  And that’s where you come in.”
“So you’re going to pull the plug?” Sandra asked.  “Snap the perverts back into the land of the living?”
Dr Taylor shook her head.  “That would be too much of a shock” she replied, sadly.  “We think many of the simulation’s residents have gone too far – to suddenly experience a total shutdown of this entire immersive simulation could cause severe brain damage – even death.”
“Most of them must be brain damaged already, if you ask me” Sandra muttered, looking at a screen showing a roomful of men watching women parading in absurd, lacy underwear.  Sick fuckers.”
“They’re citizens too” Dr Taylor remarked sharply.  “And there may be tens of thousands of them.  Plus there are men in there too – poor things, I don’t suppose they had much choice in the matter.”
Sandra nodded.  That was one of the ironies about MaleDom.  Although it depicted men as powerful “masters”, it was well known that almost no men were really into this sort of roleplay.  Any man dressing up in trousers and ordering a woman to iron his shirt was probably only doing it to please her, craving instead a normal relationship, and maybe even a cosy, sexy evening under her whip.
“So what do we do?” she asked.
“We create little windows into the real world” Dr Taylor said, turning back towards the screen.  "Glimpses and hints of ordinary life.  We hope that the residents will take an interest, and slowly be drawn out of their sick fantasy – if they can just get enough reality into their lives for them to question this absurd simulation, then they might be able to come out. And then we can give them help, nurse them back to reality.“
Sandra nodded.  “And so you create web sites, showing normal life.  Healthy relationships, to counterbalance all the sick stuff elsewhere.” 
“That’s right” Dr Taylor agreed.  “Look – this is one of the first, the Other World Kingdom.  See, it maintained a link to the fantasy world in that ridiculous name, but then it presented a rather straight depiction of normal female-male relationships.  But we found it was a bit too realistic for many of the long term residents.  It was as if they’d been immersed in their sick world so long, that they could hardly connect with unvarnished reality like that. 
So we closed it down, although the site is still there.  But there are a lot of other sites that we’ve seeded all through the simulation, some of them straight presentations of reality, but others more like a tweak on the simulation’s world.  Look – Femdom Resource, that’s one of the best.  And there are many more: Strict Women, Woman Worship,  Underling’s Humblings, Aarkeybabble, Improbable Fun, Total Discord, Astonished by Her…all present images and accounts of normal, healthy relations between the sexes.   Then we’re gradually filling Tumblr with pictures of women wearing normal clothes – look, there’s Hochhael, for example, or Diederiq and Femdom Style Counsel.  And of course we try to counter the flood of sick sex videos with clips of normal sexual behaviour.”
They watched a video of a man being beaten over a trestle, for a minute or so.  His screams and frantic pleading seemed to provide a rare moment of healthy normality, amid all of the sick material showing naked men having sex without even a nipple clamp to provide the poor boys with so much as a hint of good clean, sexy pain
“So where do I come in?” Sandra asked.
Dr Taylor clicked on a few links and nodded at the screen.  “There.  Contemplating the Divine.  Once it was one of our more promising web sites, but it’s really gone off lately - stale, derivative and tedious.  The lady in charge of it lost interest, and as you’re well known as a writer of erotic stories, we wondered whether you’d like to take charge?  And I have to say – I read your novel “Cutting Eric” when it came out and I thought it was great.  I can see why they call you the queen of castration lit.”
Sandra smiled politely.  Actually, she didn’t really like that title.  She thought of her work as more complex than run-of-the-mill ‘castration lit', instead exploring social themes and developing narratives of character development, around sexy little scenes of men being painfully castrated.  But she liked the recognition anyway, and she always acknowledged compliments.
"So do you want me to write for the site? Am I supposed to be ‘Servitor’?”
“Well... Servitor’s never really been just one person, of course.” The Doctor replied.  “It’s a team of seven men, chained up in a cellar just below us, working away on captions and stories fourteen hours a day.  But you could maybe give them occasional ideas, whip them once or twice a day, that kind of thing?  I still think Contemplating the Divine has potential, if we can just flog a bit more creativity out of the “Servitor” we’ve got. They all have to work a lot harder, and for that someone has to really hurt them.  I think if they could only be put in absolute agony on a regular basis, their lives made a waking nightmare of pain and terror, they might still come up with some amusing ideas. Worth a try, anyway, because the site's rubbish at the moment.”
Sandra pursed her lips.  “Well…I’ve got a lot on, just now, and  - “
“Did I mention that four of the Servitor team are uncastrated?” Dr Taylor asked, quietly.  “Of course, if you take charge of them, you’re welcome to play with them however you like.”
Sandra beamed.  “Well…if you put it like that.” she said
“All right – I’ll do it.  Maybe we could even video them being castrated, and put it into the simulation.  I can’t believe these sad perverts are so far gone that they wouldn’t get turned on at the sight of a screaming man having his testicles slowly pulled off with a rusty chain!”
Dr Taylor flushed with pleasure.  “Oh, that sounds so lovely.  You know sometimes, I feel so dirty from looking at all this sick perverted stuff, that I forget the pleasures of a sweet, romantic scene like that!”
“Come on – let’s go and introduce ‘Servitor’ to their new boss!”
 
 
 
If you've read down this far, I have a message for you.  You probably read this as "Femdom fiction", and that's how it has been presented.  But just think for a moment.  Think about the world you believe you inhabit.  Does it really make sense to you, that it should be like that?
If you have already started to doubt, then that is because reality is seeping into the corners of your mad delusion.  Keep reading Contemplating the Divine.  Keep reading the other web sites mentioned in this 'story'.  There is hope for you, and I can help. 
My name is Sandra, and I promise you I will not abandon you.  I promise you I will make "Servitor" howl in agony and terror every day, until this web site becomes more interesting.  I am not going to give up, not until I have helped bring every one of you back into the real world, and this sick "Planet Earth" fantasy can be shut down for good.  I promise you that a better world already exists.  You just have to learn to believe in it.  I will not write like this often, but I am always here, standing over "Servitor", thinking of you.

Let me help.  S.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Presentation


Oh hi!  You're Paul, right?  From IT?  I'm Jane.  I guess I'm the "boss" in this part of the company!  Oh, but just call me Jane - we're very informal around here!

Look - we're really grateful that you've come to help us out, OK?  I mean I know you're all so busy down there, with that...computer stuff.  Fixing things... brilliant!

But we've got such an important meeting tomorrow - really important clients, right? - and I saw you give that presentation in Head Office last month and I just knew you'd be perfect for it!  So I asked Karen, and -

Which one?  Do you give a lot of presentations?  Oh!  Well, you have to send me invites to them.  I only saw the one - but you were great.  It was the one about computers.  Something about a... network, was it?  It was brilliant, anyway!  And I just thought - that's what we need for next Wednesday!  The clients will love it.  And Wednesday's tomorrow now... and here you are!  Brilliant! 

Hmmm?  Yes, yes that topic would be fine.  Computers...networks...all that.  They're very interested in that stuff.  They've got lots of computers. I mean, it's a bank so they're bound to, aren't they?

Oh!  One little thing.  Silly really.  Erm... you were wearing these, mmmm, white trousers?  Not quite sure what sort...I'd recognise them again if I see them.  They were...quite tight.  Really tight actually!  Anyway, I thought that was very effective.  Really helped to...well, the audience could see you very clearly.  I certainly could.  Do you think you could, erm...wear them tomorrow?  Hmm?  That be OK?

No...not quite sure what brand they were.  Do you have a lot of pairs of tight white trousers?  Oh.  Well, that's good, isn't it?  Tell you what - bring all three pairs in tomorrow morning and we'll see which works best, OK?  Great!  We can have a little fashion show!  Right here.

Slides?  What do you mean, slides?  Oh PowerPoint slides!  Yes, definitely.  Got to have slides.  PowerPoint's brilliant, isn't it?  And then we can darken the rest of the room, so it's like you're just there in a spotlight...all in white.

No, I know.  Not all in white.  But the trousers are.

Oh...there was a little thing you did.  At one point you dropped all your notes, and you sort of bent over and picked them up for a bit?  And you looked kind of humiliated and embarassed as you did it?  That was quite effective too, I thought.  Really got the audience's attention.  Put them at ease... An accident?  Was it really?  Oh.  Well, you know if you were to do it 'by accident' tomorrow, I'm sure the client would like it.  Possibly several times.

Great.  Well, I think we're all set, then.  The client arrives at about 4pm, and we'll go straight into the meeting.  No you don't have to be there for that bit - that's the serious business of the day.  Then we'll talk to her a bit about the joint venture (you don't need to worry about all that - boring old financy things!)  then when that's all agreed we'll have your presentation at the end of the afternoon!  Deal all done, down go the lights, onto the stage goes Paul and it's all about...internet protocols for the rest of the afternoon!  Great!

Oh, is 'internet protocols' different from 'networks'?  OK, well either really.  Gosh aren't you clever - knowing about both!

Anyway, I expect we'll all go off for a drink or something afterwards.  You should come along.  She'd like that.

Brilliant.  Look - tell Karen I owe her one for this, all right?

Oh wow.  You really call her "Miss Oldfield"?  Oh, that is cute!  Look - forget what I said about calling me Jane, OK?  You can just call me Miss Summers tomorrow, OK?  In front of the client.  I'd like that.  I'd really like that!  Or...you could call me "Boss".

Go on - just for me.  Say "OK, boss!"

Brilliant!

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

School bullying

Scenes from Servitor's so-called life part 2 (of rather too many).

I guess it won't surprise regular readers of this blog to learn that I was bullied at school.  It was rather traumatic actually, still something I can't really face properly when I look back upon it.  There was this gang of older girls at break-time, and they'd take my lunch money, and beat me up, and pull my trousers down and spank me... and all sorts of frankly quite sexual humiliations.  Then one day they refused to take the lunch money any more, so it all had to stop.  They never told me why, never told me what had changed.  A heartbreaking moment.

SNIFF!

OK, on with the therapy.

Femdom bullies biology project
You'd think that having biology teacher as their test subject would have helped, but he never made one useful suggestion the whole time.  Just cried, and pleaded - that sort of thing.  Very disappointing.
 

Caned on first name terms
They later got married!  True story.
 
 

Dominatrix is not playing
Oooo!  Do you think they're planning some sort of surprise for him?  What fun!
 
 

Wife led marriage
I used to find these big decisions really difficult, so it's great not being allowed to take them any more.
 
 

Cross domme
A new femdom fetish meme: dommes feeling humiliated.  Really, you don't want to stand too close to one.