I’m a bit of a hypocritic. I often rail against conventional femdom porn, complain about the stereotypical dommes, and then go ahead and feature exactly that material. It’s sad to say, but stereotypes become stereotypes for a reason. I’m certainly not immune to the lure of leather or latex coupled with a crop brandishing domme.
However, I like to think that when I do feature that kind of material, there’s at least an element or two of interest. In this particular case it’s the relaxed attitude of the submissive. The domme has all the classic elements, with her thigh high boots, riding crop and white jodpurs. Yet he seems to be in a very accepting pose, relaxing into the pressure of the boot. I like that. It’s unusual for this kind of shot, but it corresponds to the way I play. I don’t want to be forcible subjugated. I want to give myself up to the domme, in the same way this gentleman seems to be doing.
I found this on the StellaNova’s Realm tumblr.
A 1984 reference? Ironic, considering that Winston’s love interest wore the red sash of the Anti-Sex League.
Yes, she did (and I had to go and look this up at http://george-orwell.org/1984/9.html, as it’s a long time since I read it) but only as a cover. Somebody should suggest a red sash to all those groups into the purity ring idea. It’s be a lot more striking and make a much clearer statement.
+1 for the Orwell reference.
Of course, the rest of the quote is “now imagine that happening forever.” (I didn’t Google it, so it’s likely that I’m paraphrasing).
The thing that’s lovely about this one is that they both look like they would like to do it forever.
I had to go and look it up, as I wasn’t exactly sure of the wording either. I’m anal that way. It’s “If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face – forever.”
The loveliness of the shot is kind of why I used that quote. It’s such a brutal mental image, and yet this is actually an image of the act that makes it look kind of sweet. Or if not sweet, at least erotic and a little sensual. Makes for a good contrast.
The image in the Femdom Universe, however, is not the fascsist jackboot smashing the face. I is rather, as you say, the absolutely submissive male slave voluntarily, eagerly, and lovingly debasing itself at the feet (lowest part of the human body) of a beautiful Woman, the epitome of sensual, sexual, even romantic, perfection, and servilely cleaning the dust, street-dirt, mud or whatever, from Her power-symbol boots — not even the Lady’s lovely feet, but the protective foot-covering that She also uses to trample, kick, and crush the worthless slave, a worm in Her sight, that adores Her even as it suffers from Her sadistic torment.
As the slave works feverishly to clean and polish Her footwear, using its tongue and lips, hungrily swallowing every particle of dirt that may have dimmed the brilliance of Her boots, Mistress is amused, perhaps, and pleased that She controls the creature crawling at Her feet.
She owes it nothing for this total surrender and submission, except perhaps to reinforce the thing at Her feet in its abasement. An occasional kick, a painful stroke with a whip or riding crop, or perhaps the gift of spitting on it from Her precious lips becomes a token of inestimable value to the slave; it will, of course, thank Her by kissing Her boot with infinite humble love.
If the Mistress is amused to do so, She might allow the miserable maggot to lick the soles of Her boots clean, again swallowing all the filth that has been sanctified by touching Her boot-sole as She walks, in beauty unmatched and immeasurable, across the worshiping world.