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.
A fairy tale romance
A fantasy-themed post, so unlike the gritty realism that normally charcterises this blog’s witterings.
Oddly, when Sissylocks later experienced the three paddles, she didn’t like any of them at all.
Well, a 50% chance of a swift painless stomp anyway. Depends on how the coin falls. But don’t worry: they’d never use their witchcraft to try to influence the outcome of a fair wager like that.
What a lovely story. I hope it never ends.
I don’t think those are bears. Bears are usually bigger, hairier and have beards.
The part of Goldilocks in this image was played by the magnificent… oh, you know who that is don’t you? Of course you do. But have you met her and sessioned with her? I have! Lucky lucky me.
If you do get the feeling that the cats might have it, try not to wiggle it or anything, or they’ll start playing with it. Cats can be cruel like that, but they don’t mean any harm: it’s just their natures.
I guess he’s a pup reporter! Sorry…
8 thoughts on “A fairy tale romance”
”As a witch I know a lot about you, honey, I know your star sign and your aura prediction, so come and sit down.”
”Ma’am, I don’t know where to sit. The table is so big and you have put a spell on me to make me tiny.”
”Here sit on the side plate, by the marmalade.”
”Ma’am, I have given you access to all my money, I have divorced my wife and I never see my kids, because you told me not to.”
”Good boy! Do you miss your wife and kids?”
”Of course, ma’am. I miss them terribly. I haven’t seen my two daughters for over two years.”
”Isn’t pleasing me more important than seeing your family?”
”Yes, ma’am, of course ma’am. Can I ask for a bigger cage? I don’t have much room in my cage in the basement.”
”A bigger cage? No, it is fine.”
”Ma’am I am one foot tall and the cage is four foot square. I spend a lot of time in there. I have a bed and a chair, a wardrobe and make up mirror and table. I need more room, ma’am.”
”Aww. Poor babe. Are you going to stamp your foot?”
”Sorry, ma’am. You said you have a nice surprise for me. What is it? I am so excited.”
Your oldest daughter, Imogen, is coming to visit. She phoned me and asked if she could see her shrunken daddy. Isn’t that good, dear?”
”Imogen? Can I wear some clothes?When is she coming? Is she angry at me?”
”So many questions. She is upstairs taking a shower. She is very pretty. We had a date last night. I took her for a meal, and then we spent the night together. Aren’t you pleased we are friends?”
”Oh! ma’am, I am shocked.”
”Hi daddy! Aww doesn’t he look sweet, Lizzie? He is so tiny. Kiss my hand daddy. Good boy. I will be seeing a lot of you now as I am good friends with Lizzie. Isn’t that great?”
”Go to your daughter, honey, I am sure she will let you ask her any questions you may have. Mind the teacups, be more careful, you could burn yourself. Remember to curtsey!”
”Imogen, how long have you known I am a shrunken sissy slave?Does your sister, Belle, know too, and your mummy?”
”Well. I have known ever since I have been dating Lizzie, and Belle and mummy know, of course. I have a job now, after uni \i got on a graduate programme at ”Micropenis”, the male management company owned by Jacqueline Wooding, the billionaire gynarchy businesswoman.”
”You have done well. I am sorry I wasn’t a better daddy. I do love Goddess Elizabeth, though, even though I am so tiny.”
”Aww so sweet. You cock is so small, is that a cage on it?”
”Yes, Imogen.”
”Babe, you need to call Imogen Princess. That is her title for you, OK? I think you have had enough excitement for one day. I will put you back in your cage.”
”Sorry, princess. You have grown to be so beautiful. What is your mummy and Belle doing now?”
”Mummy has a new husband, Antony, a successful businesman and gynarchy enthusiast. Belle is still at Oxford studying Finance and Gynarchy Law.”
”Jump in my hand, babe, you need to go to your cage!”
……and so I was put back in my cage in the dark basement…….
What a lovely story, Ms Zoe. I really do think you should do your own blog, you know, or whatever the latest Internet think like a blog is called. Thank you for posting it here as a comment, though, as ever.
Later the next week in the afternoon, Lizzie and Imogen and I were in the kitchen. They were at the kitchen island and I was on the floor by my food bowl. There was one half eaten apple in it, that was a contribution from Imogen.
”Careful, sissy, keep out of the way of my feet. He is such sweetie, isn’t he?”
They kissed, passionately, their hands exploring and stroking their bodies. I didn’t know my daughter, Imogen, was so passionate.
Izzy, my friend had reduced my size as she is a top class witch.
”Are you going to restore him to full height, you know? So, he can get a job and do the chores round here. At one foot he is pretty useless, except as an object for our amusement, honey.”
”Not yet! Maybe after Christmas, after the summer is over. We will see.”
I walked over to where their high heeled shoes were, I love the smell of stinky feet. I am still naked, but it is a hot June day, so that’s OK.
”Aww, look at him. He is sniffing our shoes. Gross!”
”Come here sissy, be good Why don’t you play with your ‘sparkles’ doll? You love her, don’t you. Later I am taking you to visit your ex wife and meet her new husband. Won’t that be exciting?”
I was dressed in a man’s suit and tie to meet Rosie, my ex wife, and Antony, her new husband. I was put in a carrier cage and carried out to the car.
Imogen was at work.
”Aww he is so sweet! Better as a little man, well done Izzie. Say hi to Antony little man. Is he man? Not sure.”
”Good day, sir. So nice to meet you.” I squeaked to the great amusement of everyone.
As they chatted I sat on the arm of the chesterfield. Every now and then Rosie would look at me and smile.
Later we played ‘catch’ in the garden. They threw a golf ball, and I ran to retrieve it. Everyone laughed as the ball was so big, it was hard for me to carry. I dropped it at the feet of whoever had thrown it.
From my little perspective everyone was so tall. Their feet smelt so hot and stinky and their shoes were enormous.
”Where does he live in your house, Lizzie?” Antony asked.
”I have a four foot square cage in the basement. I am going to get him a ‘run’, like rabbits have. He will be able to walk to the end of the basement. It should be installed tomorrow.”
”Wow. What a good idea. What does he eat?” Rosie asked.
”Rice and maize mainly, supplemented with leftovers from my plate. He loves cabbage and onions and peas. He eats quite well, his doctor says his diet is good.”
”He sees a doctor? What does he or she say about him being so little.”
”She treats lots of mini men. They have some particular heath challenges, like heart problems, but they are popular as pets. Don’t you think he makes a cute pet?”
”I do. Better than he did as a husband. Are you dating my daughter, Lizzie?’
”I am, I hope you don’t mind. She is so lovely. We are just having fun, nothing serious. We are not in love or anything. Don’t worry, I wont hurt her.”
After we went home I was taken down to the basement and fed some rice and leftover lasagne.
I slept soundly that night in the dark, in my cage.
One foot high is an interesting size. There was a blog years ago that was all about men reduced to – about – 3 or 4 feet rather than the teeny-tiny mini-men an inch or two high that are the usual giantess fetish fare. Me, I like that entire size range and those in-between as in your story here. The teeny mini-men tend to be involved in smooshing stories, especially if one assumes that the physics of the conservation of matter implies the creation of hundreds of identical copies of the little pests, in the shrinking process. Smooshing, of course, is quite a severe health challenge and one doctors are unlikely to be able to help with, at least in a positive way.
Ah, penectomy. A word which often fills my thoughts. My wife has told me many times the only thing saving me from it is the lack of a suitable person to do it for her. Apparently she doesn’t like the idea of my bleeding to death and her having to train a new domestic.
The number of times I have had to be told to hold that hanging bit out of the way when she has been doing her practice though…. I’m really not sure how I am supposed to achieve it, that’s the problem. I am not the longest in that department and, so far as I can see, it just means my hand is in the way too. It’s no wonder she can’t help kicking it. I have to apologise every time it happens, of course.
There must be suitable people… one or two highly unsuitable ones, admittedly. The word exists, after all, so the profession must too.
“Yes, now I come to think of it she did tell me what she specialises in, darling. Now what was it? Began with a p? Oh, I can never remember these medical terms. I expect she can explain it herself, over dinner, if it’s not too disgusting to talk about. Speaking of dinner, is it time for you to put the potatoes on? And you did remember her wife’s vegan, didn’t you?”
”As a witch I know a lot about you, honey, I know your star sign and your aura prediction, so come and sit down.”
”Ma’am, I don’t know where to sit. The table is so big and you have put a spell on me to make me tiny.”
”Here sit on the side plate, by the marmalade.”
”Ma’am, I have given you access to all my money, I have divorced my wife and I never see my kids, because you told me not to.”
”Good boy! Do you miss your wife and kids?”
”Of course, ma’am. I miss them terribly. I haven’t seen my two daughters for over two years.”
”Isn’t pleasing me more important than seeing your family?”
”Yes, ma’am, of course ma’am. Can I ask for a bigger cage? I don’t have much room in my cage in the basement.”
”A bigger cage? No, it is fine.”
”Ma’am I am one foot tall and the cage is four foot square. I spend a lot of time in there. I have a bed and a chair, a wardrobe and make up mirror and table. I need more room, ma’am.”
”Aww. Poor babe. Are you going to stamp your foot?”
”Sorry, ma’am. You said you have a nice surprise for me. What is it? I am so excited.”
Your oldest daughter, Imogen, is coming to visit. She phoned me and asked if she could see her shrunken daddy. Isn’t that good, dear?”
”Imogen? Can I wear some clothes?When is she coming? Is she angry at me?”
”So many questions. She is upstairs taking a shower. She is very pretty. We had a date last night. I took her for a meal, and then we spent the night together. Aren’t you pleased we are friends?”
”Oh! ma’am, I am shocked.”
”Hi daddy! Aww doesn’t he look sweet, Lizzie? He is so tiny. Kiss my hand daddy. Good boy. I will be seeing a lot of you now as I am good friends with Lizzie. Isn’t that great?”
”Go to your daughter, honey, I am sure she will let you ask her any questions you may have. Mind the teacups, be more careful, you could burn yourself. Remember to curtsey!”
”Imogen, how long have you known I am a shrunken sissy slave?Does your sister, Belle, know too, and your mummy?”
”Well. I have known ever since I have been dating Lizzie, and Belle and mummy know, of course. I have a job now, after uni \i got on a graduate programme at ”Micropenis”, the male management company owned by Jacqueline Wooding, the billionaire gynarchy businesswoman.”
”You have done well. I am sorry I wasn’t a better daddy. I do love Goddess Elizabeth, though, even though I am so tiny.”
”Aww so sweet. You cock is so small, is that a cage on it?”
”Yes, Imogen.”
”Babe, you need to call Imogen Princess. That is her title for you, OK? I think you have had enough excitement for one day. I will put you back in your cage.”
”Sorry, princess. You have grown to be so beautiful. What is your mummy and Belle doing now?”
”Mummy has a new husband, Antony, a successful businesman and gynarchy enthusiast. Belle is still at Oxford studying Finance and Gynarchy Law.”
”Jump in my hand, babe, you need to go to your cage!”
……and so I was put back in my cage in the dark basement…….
Zoe
”
What a lovely story, Ms Zoe. I really do think you should do your own blog, you know, or whatever the latest Internet think like a blog is called. Thank you for posting it here as a comment, though, as ever.
Best wishes
S
Later the next week in the afternoon, Lizzie and Imogen and I were in the kitchen. They were at the kitchen island and I was on the floor by my food bowl. There was one half eaten apple in it, that was a contribution from Imogen.
”Careful, sissy, keep out of the way of my feet. He is such sweetie, isn’t he?”
They kissed, passionately, their hands exploring and stroking their bodies. I didn’t know my daughter, Imogen, was so passionate.
Izzy, my friend had reduced my size as she is a top class witch.
”Are you going to restore him to full height, you know? So, he can get a job and do the chores round here. At one foot he is pretty useless, except as an object for our amusement, honey.”
”Not yet! Maybe after Christmas, after the summer is over. We will see.”
I walked over to where their high heeled shoes were, I love the smell of stinky feet. I am still naked, but it is a hot June day, so that’s OK.
”Aww, look at him. He is sniffing our shoes. Gross!”
”Come here sissy, be good Why don’t you play with your ‘sparkles’ doll? You love her, don’t you. Later I am taking you to visit your ex wife and meet her new husband. Won’t that be exciting?”
I was dressed in a man’s suit and tie to meet Rosie, my ex wife, and Antony, her new husband. I was put in a carrier cage and carried out to the car.
Imogen was at work.
”Aww he is so sweet! Better as a little man, well done Izzie. Say hi to Antony little man. Is he man? Not sure.”
”Good day, sir. So nice to meet you.” I squeaked to the great amusement of everyone.
As they chatted I sat on the arm of the chesterfield. Every now and then Rosie would look at me and smile.
Later we played ‘catch’ in the garden. They threw a golf ball, and I ran to retrieve it. Everyone laughed as the ball was so big, it was hard for me to carry. I dropped it at the feet of whoever had thrown it.
From my little perspective everyone was so tall. Their feet smelt so hot and stinky and their shoes were enormous.
”Where does he live in your house, Lizzie?” Antony asked.
”I have a four foot square cage in the basement. I am going to get him a ‘run’, like rabbits have. He will be able to walk to the end of the basement. It should be installed tomorrow.”
”Wow. What a good idea. What does he eat?” Rosie asked.
”Rice and maize mainly, supplemented with leftovers from my plate. He loves cabbage and onions and peas. He eats quite well, his doctor says his diet is good.”
”He sees a doctor? What does he or she say about him being so little.”
”She treats lots of mini men. They have some particular heath challenges, like heart problems, but they are popular as pets. Don’t you think he makes a cute pet?”
”I do. Better than he did as a husband. Are you dating my daughter, Lizzie?’
”I am, I hope you don’t mind. She is so lovely. We are just having fun, nothing serious. We are not in love or anything. Don’t worry, I wont hurt her.”
After we went home I was taken down to the basement and fed some rice and leftover lasagne.
I slept soundly that night in the dark, in my cage.
Zoe
Thank you, Ms Zoe.
One foot high is an interesting size. There was a blog years ago that was all about men reduced to – about – 3 or 4 feet rather than the teeny-tiny mini-men an inch or two high that are the usual giantess fetish fare. Me, I like that entire size range and those in-between as in your story here. The teeny mini-men tend to be involved in smooshing stories, especially if one assumes that the physics of the conservation of matter implies the creation of hundreds of identical copies of the little pests, in the shrinking process. Smooshing, of course, is quite a severe health challenge and one doctors are unlikely to be able to help with, at least in a positive way.
Best wishes
S
Ah, penectomy. A word which often fills my thoughts. My wife has told me many times the only thing saving me from it is the lack of a suitable person to do it for her. Apparently she doesn’t like the idea of my bleeding to death and her having to train a new domestic.
The number of times I have had to be told to hold that hanging bit out of the way when she has been doing her practice though…. I’m really not sure how I am supposed to achieve it, that’s the problem. I am not the longest in that department and, so far as I can see, it just means my hand is in the way too. It’s no wonder she can’t help kicking it. I have to apologise every time it happens, of course.
Mr Mouse
There must be suitable people… one or two highly unsuitable ones, admittedly. The word exists, after all, so the profession must too.
“Yes, now I come to think of it she did tell me what she specialises in, darling. Now what was it? Began with a p? Oh, I can never remember these medical terms. I expect she can explain it herself, over dinner, if it’s not too disgusting to talk about. Speaking of dinner, is it time for you to put the potatoes on? And you did remember her wife’s vegan, didn’t you?”
Happy scurrying, Mouse
S
I suppose it figures she would have a partner that only wanted the two veg and no meat….
Mr M
Ka-Ching! Very good, Mr M, very good.
Best wishes
S