A silly little thing (I know I am but what are you? Oh no, hang on…). Anyway, just a poem, not worth taking up a whole posting slot, so up it goes as an extra.

“I don’t know how you cope”
Said the gimp to the simp
“With her constant demands for more cash.
Don’t you long when you meet her, to kiss shoes to greet her
Or serve as a tray for her ash?”
“It’s my kink and that’s that.”
Said the simp to the gimp
“But your lifestyle is hardly ideal.
Caged or chained all alone, with no life of your own
Till you’re summoned to crawl at her heel.”
“I’m her pet and I’m proud!”
Said the gimp to the simp
And he showed off his monogrammed collar.
“You’re just moneyslave 9; when you’re typing online
All she sees is the sign of the dollar.”
“At least I can type”
Said the simp to the gimp
Showing fingers splayed out, with a grin.
“I can move my hands freely and stand on my feet – see?
My meals don’t come out of a tin.”
“Right!” – started the gimp
But his voice was soon stopped
By a ball gag, inserted at speed.
“Your mouth’s not to bicker, you boot and floor-licker!”
And the gimp was dragged off on a lead.
“Well that finished fast”
The simp chortled in glee
Then with shock he caught sight of his phone.
“Too slow to reply – that’s three times now, so bye!”
And he sat there, all sad and alone.

There was a young lady of Ealing…..”
Who thrashed me within an inch of my life for even thinking about that poem.
Slightly more Pseuds Corner:
“There was an old farmer who sat on a rick
Laughing and waving his big hairy fist
At the sailors who……”
Contemplating the divine. All human life is there.
No Nonny No
Some human life, certainly 3N, if you can call it life.
A silly old subbie, dressed up in a frock
Was hoping his Mistress would unlock his
Dress. He was desperate now, all frustrated and glum
He’d do anything if she’d allow him to
Make her some tea, and he hoped as she sipped and she drank
She’d permit him at last to grab hold and to
Sweep, with a brush, all the dust in the rooms and the halls
Trying hard not to think of his bulging, full
Bag on the hoover. Then working himself to a spasm
He begged and he pleaded for just one
Reminder that submissives’ lives are for work and not leisure
And he’d rarely be given the time for self-
Reflection.
Best wishes
S
You are wasted here S.
Which is quite good going at 11am.
Mr M
A lot of my life used to be spent wasted, Mr M, but then I met Her and discovered how motivated and purposeful life can be, with the right encouragement.
You don’t do so badly yourself. Pretty good, for a pair of males, I’d say.
Best wishes
S