Tagged

Men should be tagged… like cattle.

Sex and intimacy

While I am a strong proponent of the idea that words are what separates us most and that definitions are tentative things at best, but they are still all we as human beings have to try and express ourselves to one another.

That being said, I wanted to share my thoughts on sex and intimacy. (My thoughts, your mileage may vary, objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear.)

Sex is about power. I don’t just mean as in there is a generally fuck-er and a fuck-ee but yes, (…Yes, yes!, yes!!!) that, but what I mean is everything about it revolves around power. Who controls access to it, who determines when, where, and how long it will last, and how it will be done.

As a horny adolescent wanting for all the world just to get to second base, it was obvious to me who had the power. I was never going to feel a breast without a girl’s permission. She had all the power.

I’m not saying sex can’t be intimate, but if you think of sex as the ultimate form of intimacy, then once a person becomes ‘of a certain age’ and sex is no longer on the table, does intimacy die?

Intimacy for me is found in service. Can you be more intimate with someone than washing their underwear? Cleaning their toilet? Uh, not much! Intimacy is borne from knowing how she likes her tea. What her favorite restaurant is and which diet your cooking needs to adhere to. (this week. LoL!) Intimacy is all about knowing all the little details about one another and caring and catering to them.

Back at the turn of the last century, butler’s and lady’s maids were at least as intimate with the people they served as were their spouses in my opinion. In some cases, maybe even more.

[TO BE CONTINUED…]

Worth – story

Pain, it’s part of the pleasure.

“You’ve got such an ugly, old dick and balls, boy. They really beg to be beaten. I bet you’ve been wondering if I’d be doing this again. Well of course I am. This time you don’t even have to hold them up for me, my pretty rope will do it for me.”

He shivered in the hard kitchen chair. His wrists were bound straight down at his sides, and his ankles to the plain, sturdy wooden legs. She had looped rope tightly around his cock and balls, held the end up like a leash and pushed it between his teeth to hold taught with a stern admonishment not to drop it. Viola stood before him, running his thin leather dress belt through her hands. She had noted it immediately when he had showed up at the restaurant. She had decided then and there that this evening would be perfect to try a whippier cock beating.

“You know, men know very well that their useless, little dicks deserve to be spanked and whipped. You are just so proud of your fun sticks. You flaunt it all over and you’re just so sensitive about it. Like you pet. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Goddess, I am sensitive about it. That’s why you liked belting it so much last time.”

“Mmhm. You screamed and cried. But you wanted it so much that you even offered them up to the belt with your own hands. My belt, not your thin little belt. You even begged me for more, you little pain slut.”

“I… I wanted to please you, Goddess.”

“Mmm, yes, I know. I liked that. And I found that I liked your screams, too. And remember, you left a big wet spot on the chair. You’re so twisted pet. Such a dirty bitch. That kind of bitch deserves to get his cock and balls belted again, doesn’t he?”

He knew she wanted him to repeat that back to her. And, well, it was kind of true. “Yes, Goddess, I’m a twisted, dirty bitch who deserves to have his cock and balls belted.” As he said it, he shuddered and felt a heavy cloak of buzzing warmth spread over his chest and shoulders. He felt as if his eyes had to close; his breath came quicker.

Viola ran the cool leather over his thighs. “Ask for it, my pet.”

Slowly he answered. “Goddess… please whip my useless, little cock and balls with my belt. Whip it until I scream and beg you to stop. Please mark me. I want to see that their yours.”

“Good boy. I’ll oblige. Let’s see if this thin little thing will make bruises like the thick one did, or just nice pink welts. Mmm, I bet we can get it pretty raw with such a whippy belt. No need to count this time, Pet. I think I’ll need to do a lot more, a lot faster.”

Viola waited a minute. Her play toy was clearly dopey already just from being tied up and insulted. Of course he was, the silly shit lived for that stuff. Well, she’d shortly make him dopier. She decided to dive right in without warmup. He liked it when she was nasty, anyway.

Suddenly she struck, across both of the impossibly soft balls. He gasped, his eyes suddenly rising to her face. His mouth gaped in an O as she quickly struck him a dozen more times, his face shocked. By the end he was already involuntarily trying to raise his hands to protect himself. But she had made sure to tie him firm. Her cunt moistened in her pants.

Her torture pet was breathing heavily. Viola’s gaze shifted to his eyes from the rising pink welts on his thighs and balls.

“How is it, slut? Does it hurt as much as the big belt?”

Finally he caught his breath again. “Yes, Goddess, it hurts a fucking lot. It’s different cause it’s not so heavy. But it really fucking stings. And you’re doing it so fast.”

“Mm, that’s good to hear. Let’s do another round.”

He whimpered this time but didn’t protest. Viola set in quickly again. Halfway through, he started to make squeaking noises, which quickly grew to proper squeals. He was struggling again, too, which made his balls wiggle even more, tugged by the rope between his clenched teeth as his head thrashed about. His cheeks were flushed and he was starting to break out in a sweat. Her panties were soaked already. What a lovely sight.

“You’re beautiful like this, pet. Letting me hurt your precious cock and balls. Not even complaining. I bet you’d even ask me for more yourself, wouldn’t you.” She reached out and squeezed his balls. Her pet moaned.

“Well?”

“Ooh… Goddess, I want more. Please hit them some more. I can’t get enough. Please–“

He was cut off by another rain of blows. His moans quickly turned into yells. Viola stopped short. “I think we’ll try your cock now.” She carefully lined up the belt, and then delivered six blows smartly, with just little pauses between each. Satisfyingly, Pet’s moan-yells quickly raised in pitch. She actually had made him scream. Delicious.

“Fuck, Pet, I never knew I’d love making a man scream in pain so much.” She aimed and started on his cock again. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” Snap! “You want me to make you take it.” Snap! “You need this.” Snap! “You’ll be so compliant after this.” Snap! “So soft and yielding.” Snap! “This is who you are.” Snap! “You were so eager to show off your cock to me, weren’t you. Did you think I’d just smile and nod and not do anything with it?” She paused a second longer and then hit those now-red balls extra hard. “You didn’t know I would enjoy this so much. You naive little bitch. You got more than you bargained for.”

He had started to sniffle between his screams. “Aww, did I hurt your feelings, bitch? That’s what really makes you cry. You can just take so much pain, can’t you? You’re just so proud of that.” Viola started raining down another few dozen from the top of his chest, across his stomach and then his thighs. Halfway through Pet started sobbing properly. His tears fell onto his cheeks, trickling down and off the tip of his chin.

“Do the tears sting on that raw skin? Poor, poor thing. Do you want me to stop?” Her pet heaved and nodded.

“Ask nicely.”

“Goddess, I’ve had enough. I can’t take anymore. Please stop! Please no more!”

Viola tilted his face up towards her. “No, bitch.”

She delivered six more on the wet, already welted skin above his nipples. After his initial stare of shock, he really lost it. Between his throwing his head around and trying to kick, Viola had to steady the chair with one hand as she gave him the last strokes. Maybe he really couldn’t take anymore. She knew she certainly couldn’t.

Viola slid her pants off over her hips and straddled him in the narrow chair. She started to rub her pantied pussy all around the slippery, tear stained flesh of his face, Her pet moaning as she reached down to drag her nails across the stinging welts in his thighs, his volume rising as she passed back and forth over his lips. Viola couldn’t hold out any longer, she had to feel herself on his tongue. “Open! Tongue, now!” She started thrusting, holding his head firm.

“This feels so good for me, pet. Your moaning really makes it better. Soon I’m going to come… then I’m going to fill your pretty mouth with my piss, and when I release you you’re going to rub my pee in all by yourself, and thank me for it.”

She pressed him deep into her, smothering him. “Beg me to come, little whore.”

The tears had started to roll again. He desperately wanted to ask her. He wanted to breathe. She pulled back slightly so he could gasp and speak. “Please come and piss on my face, Goddess…

show me what I’m worth.”

Never more beautiful – story

Pain, it’s part of the pleasure.

“Remember when your cock used to be so pretty and hard? Back before I made you pierce it and put a ring through it?”

*thwack*

“I… yes, Goddess.”

“Well, it’s still pretty sensitive. Isn’t it?”

*thwack*

“Ah!… yes, Goddess.”

“You still don’t like it when I hit it. After all this time.”

“No, Goddess.” *thwack* “Mmmph!”

“That means it’s still fun to hurt it.”

“Yes, Goddess.”

“It’s gotten saggy though. Shame. It was so nice and hard when we first met.”

“Y-yes Goddess.”

*thwack*

“Don’t play shy, you see it every time you look in the mirror. Poor old prick.”

He winced. “Yes, Goddess.”

“Aren’t you glad I still bother with it at all?”

“Yes… Goddess.”

*thwack*

“Thank me for beating your ugly old dick.”

“Thank you, Goddess.” *thwack* “Ahhhh!”

“Try again.”

He grimaced and squeezed it miserably out. “Thank you for beating my ugly old dick, Goddess.”

“That’s better, cunt. You’re welcome.” *thwack* “I’m going to beat it black and blue. Well, it will be black and blue. You can kneel and present it to me every day while the bruises develop. We’ll watch it turn colors together. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” *thwack* “You like offering yourself to me.”

He sniffled. “Fuck… Yes, Goddess.”

“Ask for more.”

“Oh… please Goddess…” he whimpered and cast about, looking for a way out that he had long ago locked behind him.

She chuckled. “You’re going to ask. Why fight it, my little bitch?”

“I… please would you…” His desperate face was quickly becoming resigned.

She grabbed his chin and bent to look him square in the face. Her soft tone combined with the ferocity in her eyes raised the hairs on his scalp. “Please would I what, my pathetic, groveling little man?”

“Please… beat my saggy old cock, Goddess.”

She let go of his jaw. “Good boy.”

*thwack*

“Ow! Ohhh…”

“I’ll give you lots more. I know you’re already making a fucking puddle on that chair. You’ll be licking that up after this.”

*thwack*

“I like your moans. They still make me horny.”

*thwack*

“Oh, go ahead and look at me all pleading like. You want me to stop. But you also want to please me. That’s my favorite. I like seeing the conflict on your face.”

*thwack*

“You’re not as pretty as my other slave boys, but that look makes my pussy wet every time.”

*thwack* His eyebrows raised and met as his lips trembled.

“You still care about your cock, don’t you? It’s so important to your sense of manhood. You created babies with it.”

*thwack*

“Now it’s pretty pointless though. Who would want to look at that? Aren’t you glad it can still be some use?”

*thwack* He was crying now.

“Oh, you’re crying.” She wiped the tears from his cheek and brought them to his lips. When he opened, she thrust her fingers deep to make him gag. More tears. “You know I like that. Good of you to make this worth my time.”

*thwack*

His sobs were turning into a hopeless keening sound. She put down the strap and approached the chair as she unzipped her leather pants. She gazed into his wet face as she rubbed her pussy over it, passing back and forth over his lips. He tried to meet her gaze, but his eyelids kept clamping shut against the sting of his helpless tears. He saw her satisfaction between his cringes, and he felt it as she turned and pressed her asshole onto his mouth. He licked and sucked desperately.

“Such a good ass licker. Even after all that, you still want to please me.” Her hands were in his hair, grasping and tugging and pressing him deeper into her ass as she thrust. Soon she pulled back, turned again and pushed him to the ground, mounting his face. She came hard and quickly, squirting all over his face, almost drowning him in her pleasure.

“You wanted to be sexy for me. So you could offer it to me.” She regarded the wreck of him. There was no resistance left. He was utterly pliant. Everything was hers. “You’ve never been more beautiful than this.”

The Kiss

Note: This fantasy came to me as a result of a real life event. Upon our first meeting, I forgot my vows in front of Goddess Viola Voltairine and she did actually allow me to kiss her boot anyway. The following day I came down with an awful head and chest cold…

As she waited for her latest acolyte’s arrival, she casually picked up another of the purplish-blue berries, held it up before her eyes and pondered it before she dropped it on the floor with an air of casual disregard, and crushed it under her left boot.

Her private maid, standing at attention in the corner squirmed inwardly as she watched her in the peripheral vision of her down turned eyes.

“Something troubles you robbi?”

“Of course not Mistress.” she replied. The stress in her voice making it very clear she wanted to be believed.

The doorbell rang and robbi, glancing over to be sure she was dismissed to answer it, scurried off. She soon returned with a naked boy in tow.

Hands behind his back, head bowed and eyes fixed on the floor, he waited until she spoke to him. “You have been through my lessons and have done well. You know why you are here?”

“Yes Goddess. To be considered for a position as a house slave for you. Please, with open eyes and open heart, I want to serve you forever Goddess…”

She eyed him coolly. “Then on your knees before me. Let me hear your vows.”

He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled to her. Once his lips where inches from her boots, he began his vows. “I accept the natural authority of women, I submit to the authority of my teacher…” Looking down at him, she listened dispassionately.

Then his words stumbled. He started the sentence again, “My role is to support… ah, My role…”

“Start again!” she growled at him.

“I accept the natural authority of women. I submit to the authority of my teacher…”, he was blushing now. Flustered by his own failure, he admitted he could not remember the remaining line of his pledge to her. Defeated, he hung his head in utter shame.

She slid her left boot forward. “You may kiss it.” He threw himself forward and eagerly pressed his lips to the smooth, cool black leather, kissing it passionately.

She looked down on him as she lifted it.

“Now the sole. Lick. Gooood boooyyyy…” she watched in fascination as the belladonna she had crushed beneath it took effect.

Had he obeyed her rule, learned his vows to perfection and been a good slave, he would have been offered her right boot…

She leaned forward and cradled his chin is her palm, lifting his eyes to hers. “Awwww. Now you will have plenty of time to learn your vows”, watching as the light faded from behind his eyes. “As you serve the Temple of The Dark Goddess. Forever.”

Slavery

Fantasy vs. Reality.

Nine Needles Punishment

Goddess Voltairine bade me to kneel before her at the Domcon play party on Sunday evening. The sounds of other slaves being whipped and erotically teased & tormented echoed in the dark room around us. Robbi knelt at her side.

As she gazed down at me and commanded me to recite my vows to her, she touched me so profoundly that my mind went blank. I knelt before a living Goddess… and I forgot my vows.

Additionally, she informed me I failed to keep her vendor’s booth neat and organized, a reflection upon her. She was not pleased with my service and I had earned a very well deserved punishment. She wrote later;

“As for your punishment…. It must involve both pain and sacrifice. It must thrill my sadistic side. It must be difficult. Om the other hand it must also be useful toward my goals as well...

… I am fond of needles. I want to see 9 play piercings on your body, with 20 gauge or larger needles (it will turn me on if I get to see blood trickling). From those you will attach lovely graceful delicate silver chains and from those you will attach and hang my book. Make it artful. Delight me. Take some lovely photos of this with the five words as the caption.“

Surrender, submit, sacrifice, serve, survive.

Nine 20 gauge needles Goddess. The V upon my chest for Voltairine.

The line beneath the V represents myself. I am just a pedestal for you to stand upon while you reach for the stars. I hope I have pleased.

Do I disgust you?

If the picture above offends, upsets, or grosses you out please do not continue to read further. This means you Jamie!

I have written extensively about all the nice parts of devoted male service, female led relationships and about the need for a world Gynarchy and such.

This isn’t that.

This post is all about my dark side. My strong sado-masochistic desires. It turns out that all girls aren’t made of sugar and spice and everything nice. And some boys like me cherish the ones with far darker wet dreams…

Almost two decades ago, I found one of my heroines in Faye Kane and her writing THINGS MY FUTURE HUSBAND WILL DO IF HE REALLY LOVES ME. She admitted to masturbating to the most inhumane, sadistic treatments of herself, inviting degradation, pain, and even death at the hands of someone who would really, really get off on it. Living a pointless existence except for the arousal her suffering could give another. And there where others… JustaGimp, “There is no return to a normal life for it. It no longer can be human. It is now less…. a worth less fuck thing… Less then even a sub creature. Fuckmeat, fuck puppet, fuck object… Just holes in a latex suit. And for it, this is the a joyful life one it was born for.” and Miss Irene Clearmont‘s tales of blackmail and permanent slavery… Oh my!

What follows is not a fantasy wish list, it is inspiration for the right woman. The woman who cums from forcing a man through his ‘no, not’ list one-by-one, gleefully ignoring each of his “please no!”s. This is to make her nipples harden, her labia swell… her breath become shallow and her heartbeat quicken. This is being her muse and offering her myself as a blank tapestry for her own wickedness and cruelty. This is for the woman who reads this list and says “and…“! For without her wicked desire, it is all pointless. I am pointless.

“Your cock is no longer for any type of pleasure. It will be used BY ME to frustrate you & inflict pain on you. This will help train & control you and it is in your best interest. Any pleasure you get from now on will be from serving ME & helping ME have fantastic orgasms whenever I want them. No negotiation, no going back, no mercy. Once clicked, the ratchet never backs off. Ever. I may permit you a ruined orgasm from time to time if you go one day without food or 12 hours without water or 30 seconds without air. After you’ve cum we’ll permanently extend the requirement to the original amount + the current amount. 30 seconds becomes 60, becomes 90… I think it will be super hot to watch you slowly starve and suffocate yourself in frustration!”

It no longer matters how close you get or many times I make you edge, your response will always and forever be, “Please don’t let me cum Goddess!”

At my whim, you are going to build me a video library of your ever increasing humiliations and tortures;

You peeing into my panties then stuffing them into your wide open mouth and taping your mouth shut over them… just to remind you your silence, as well as piss, is golden.
Next you’ll pee into a glass and pour it over your head for me.
We’ll use your wife’s fucking machine to ass fuck yourself while I watch via Zoom and laugh and yell out commands. “Faster! Slower! Deeper!! HARDER!”
And I would be remiss if I didn’t watch you do a little ass to mouth practice – take out the butt plug I had you shove up your ass last night out and lick and suck it clean for me. Make love to it! Show me what a passionate shit eater you would be for me!
Oh, we’re not done there… now shit on a plate and kiss it and lick it like candy. Some day you might be lucky enough to have the honor of mine to enjoy!
Text me every 30 minutes on the dot for 24 hours. Awwww, I bet you’ll be soooo tired when I tell you, “Again.”
Cut my initials into your chest and thighs and wash yourself in your blood. MY blood.
Next I think I will starve you. No food until given permission. Then I might allow you to feed yourself a can of cat food. In fact if your weight ever goes above 200lbs, I will have you drive needles into your cock and balls. Maybe nails. And next month I might make it 195lbs… then 190… then… the point is I’ll keep finding reasons to pierce, scar and mutilate your cock until no one would ever want to see it, let alone touch it, ever again!
Up on the gynecological exam table like a good little girl, feet in the stirrups, and give yourself a guiche piercing. Then padlock your PA to it and mail me the key. I will get great enjoyment for letting you watch me hammer it into a useless lump of metal.

Once we’ve finished with all those games, we can start your weekly confessionals where you’ll confess your short comings and be required to make suggestions for even more punishments and your deserved penance for the week. Remember, even if you were perfect all week, you where born male and deserve punishment for that fact alone.

Every two weeks you’ll call me on Zoom and beg me for two more weeks of denial while you edge for me. Be entertaining enough and I may invite my girlfriends to watch!
I will call for snap Zoom inspections to see you are cleaning properly. Sooner rather than later you’ll realize I will always find something wrong, I’m just using it as an excuse to watch you beat the shit out of yourself with your studded belt across your thighs! But Goddess help you if I think you are not trying your hardest to please me!
We’ll do plenty of one-way, recorded Zoom calls of you performing humiliating games for me and my girlfriends. Maybe even other prospective slaves so they can witness what they’re getting into. We’ll might have you write on yourself with permanent marker, watch you crawl and lick your wife’s boot soles clean, chain your cock piercing to your tongue and recite poetry for us. Put you in women’s panties and watch as you pour itching powder into them, then handcuff your hands behind you… maybe after taking a nice big enema of your own piss as well. Leave the camera on so we can check on you from time to time and listen to your sobbing and pleading.

Maybe I’ll feel like you need some corner time chained to the wall. Hours and hours of it. We came include your noise cancelling headphones looping my hypnosis tapes over and over. Even better, chained outdoors in the cold until watching you shiver gets boring and I release you.

Can a person waterboard themselves? I game to find out! Even if it takes you all afternoon to perfect it!

When we hold our women’s meetings we’ll play a variation of a drinking game. We put you in a rubber gas mask and have you cover the opening until you hear the word “slave”. It will all help reinforce the fact that men should remain silent when women are speaking!

For some silliness I’ll have you record yourself writing “I am a stupid male.” 500 times with no breaks. Then you can mail it to me and I’ll let you watch as I drop it in the trash, unopened.

Holidays will be extra special fun for me and you from now on too! Starting on the 4th of July we can celebrate the removal of freedoms month!

You’ll turn over web access to your security camera. You’ll never know who I share it with.
I’ll remove your sight by having you put in your blackout contacts for a day.
You’ll spend a day gagged.
No more naked female bodies for you ever. For your edging pleasure you can have CFNM porn only, liberally interspersed with images of ME.
Money and speech are power, so let’s have you surrender all your passwords, credit cards numbers, and investment accounts information. You can ask my permission to use them going forward…

So there it is. Just a glimpse into my darkness. By far, it is not a comprehensive list. Did I even mention what you can do with a wire coat hanger and a kitchen brulee torch? Ben Gay? Shock collars? No. Of course not. As I said, it isn’t intended to be a wish list, it’s meant to inspire the right woman’s own imagination!

It is meant to speak to women who may have a small place hidden away inside them that resents, fears, and is angry with men in general but which they never speak out loud. It is an invitation to a safe place where you are invited to be your full self, all that is beautiful and divine about your woman-ness and all that lusts for retribution and complete power.

How dark are you Ma’am? What would you love to paint upon the canvas of me?

Finding Love – the Movie

The future is Female.

This page contains stories of powerful women defying the male/female status quo. I will update it regularly!

Margaret Bourke-White, one of the pre-eminent photographers of the 20th century, is pictured here atop New York City’s Chrysler Building in 1930. A staff photographer for Life magazine since its founding in 1936, one of her photos was featured on the cover of the very first issue of the famous news magazine. For decades, Bourke-White traveled the world photographing key events of her time. Early in her career, she took dramatic pictures of architecture and inside steel mills and factories, pioneering a new style of magnesium flare that allowed her to capture incredible details and earned her national renown. In 1930, she became the first Western photographer allowed to take pictures of Soviet industry during the Soviet five-year plan. Like her contemporary Dorothea Lange, she spent much of the 1930s photographing the downtrodden victims of America’s Great Depression.

When World War II broke out, Bourke-White was the first woman permitted to work in combat zones. She was the only foreign photographer in Moscow when German forces invaded and she captured the bombardment of the Kremlin in a series of dramatic photos. LIFE staff started referring to her as “Maggie the Indestructible” after repeatedly coming under fire and surviving being on a torpedoed ship in the Mediterranean, stranded on an Arctic island, and getting pulled out of Chesapeake Bay after a helicopter crash.

While attached to General Patton’s forces in Germany, she was one of the first photographers to document the horrors of the Buchenwald concentration camp after it was liberated. The following year, she photographed Mahatma Gandhi in India, including taking a now iconic photo of him at his spinning wheel. She is considered “one of the most effective chroniclers” of the violence that erupted during the partition of India and Pakistan. Bourke-White had a reputation for being relentless in her pursuit of the perfect photograph to embody her subject. “I feel that utter truth is essential,” she asserted, “and to get that truth may take a lot of searching and long hours.”

Margaret Bourke-White is one of the women featured in “Reporting Under Fire: 16 Daring Women War Correspondents and Photojournalists” for teens and adults, ages 13 and up: https://www.amightygirl.com/reporting-under-fire

For a historical fiction novel about Margaret Bourke-White, we also recommend “Girl with a Camera: Margaret Bourke-White, Photographer” for ages 12 and up at https://www.amightygirl.com/girl-with-a-camera

For an extraordinary new book for adult readers about three more groundbreaking journalists who paved the way for female war correspondents, we highly recommend “You Don’t Belong Here: How Three Women Rewrote the Story of War” at https://www.amightygirl.com/you-don-t-belong-here

There is also a fantastic book for adult readers about six courageous female journalists who reported on WWII: “The Correspondents: Six Women Writers on the Front Lines of World War II” at https://www.amightygirl.com/the-correspondents

For two children’s books about another famous female photographer, Dorothea Lange, we recommend “Dorothea’s Eyes: Dorothea Lange Photographs the Truth,” for ages 6 to 10 (https://www.amightygirl.com/dorothea-s-eyes) and “Dorothea Lange” for ages 5 to 8 (https://www.amightygirl.com/dorothea-lange-faces-of…)

To introduce children and teens to more trailblazing women like Margaret Bourke-White, visit our “Role Models” biography section at http://amgrl.co/2wRJudE

Credit: This photo of Margaret Bourke-White was taken by her dark room assistant Oscar Graubner

French writer Annie Ernaux has won the Nobel Prize in Literature, for what the panel said was an “uncompromising” 50-year body of work exploring “a life marked by great disparities regarding gender, language and class”.

She used “courage and clinical acuity” to tell largely autobiographical stories that uncover “the contradictions of social experience and describe shame, humiliation, jealousy or the inability to see who you are”.

12 Women Pioneering The World Of Quantum Computing

Traditionally speaking, science has been the pursuit of men, both in the academic and experimental side of things. This has started changing, however, with the number of women in STEM fields (e.g., science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) growing over the last few years… [READ ARTICLE]