Cashless society

A silly little tale.  But could it happen in reality?  You decide.

Sometimes Dennis wished he’d been born a hundred years
before.  ‘I mean, what was wrong with
just using money anyway?’ he asked himself furiously, as the line in front of
him to the check-out slowly shortened. 
Or cheques, he thought.  I could
really be good with cheques.  Just sign
your name – done.

The man in front of him reached the checkout desk.  He wasn’t buying much – just a couple of
pairs of socks.  Dennis, in contrast, was
laden down with clothes of all descriptions. He tried to buy as much as he
could each time.

“That’s £8.25, thank you sir.” he heard the shop assistant
say.  “If you’d like to just place your
penis into the scanner for ID verification.”

Dennis surreptitiously glanced past the man’s broad back, to
see a large pink object being deposited in the half-cylinder on the counter,
with an audible thwack.  After a few
seconds, there was a quiet ‘beep’ and the penis was put back inside the man’s trousers and he zipped up.  A small green light was winking on the device
on the counter, with two red lights beside it. 
Two red lights! Dennis stared with horror.  The WR-20s only had one red light.  This must be one of the new VC8000
models!  He’d only come to this shop
because he was confident it still used WR-20s. 
At least those usually worked after the third or fourth try.

He considered running, but it was too late.  The man in front had taken his socks and
gone, and the sales assistant was smiling vacantly at him.

“All these is it?  Do
you have a storecard with us at all?”

Dennis shook his head sullenly as he wondered why sales
assistants all had that strange way of speaking. 
Why put emphasis on the ‘have’? 
And what on earth is ‘at all’ supposed to mean in that context?

But he couldn’t distract his mind for long from his
impending fate, and soon enough the assistant was saying “That’ll be £458.75
altogether, please.  If you’d like to
just place your penis into the scanner for ID verification.”

Taking a deep breath, Dennis opened his flies and pushed
himself as hard as he could against the edge of the counter.  His penis, looking smaller and more
shrivelled even than usual, just managed to cover the first inch or so of the
VC8000’s black length. Nothing happened.

“Just be a moment” the shop assistant said, apparently to
the air beside her.  “Sometimes it’s a
bit temperamental.”  They waited a bit
longer.

Eventually, she seemed to snap out of her shop assistant
trance and notice that something wasn’t right. 
She pressed an elegantly manicured finger to a button on the side of the
VC8000.  Three red lights flashed angrily
in response.

“I’ve never seen it do that before.” she said,
uncertainly.  “Maybe we could try another
– “

“My penis is too small to activate the scanner”, Dennis
said, very fast and low.  “Please – it’s
OK, you can take a manual ID verification instead.  You’ve done it before.”

“Eh?” the assistant replied. 
“Shall we try another scanner?”

Dennis swore inside. 
“No” he said through gritted teeth. 
“My penis is too small to activate the scanner.  It won’t work in any of them.”

“Oh.” the assistant said, looking a bit worried.  She turned to the lady next to her and spoke
in a singsong conversational voice: “Gentleman says his penis is too small to
activate the scanner, Mrs Dawes.”

The older lady looked dismissive.  “Oh no – just shove it a bit further up.  They’re very good these days.”

“Could you shove it a bit further up for me?” the assistant
asked brightly, and Dennis made a show of pressing his groin even more firmly
against the edge of the counter.  Christ,
his balls hurt.  The base of his penis
moved perhaps two millimetres further onto the counter.  The skin wrinkled ever so slightly, the tip
moved not at all.

Now several of the sales staff were involved, standing
around and staring at the problem. Dennis didn’t dare turn around to see how
many customers were in the queue behind him, but he could hear some shuffling
feet and the occasional ‘tsk!’.

One of the ladies looked up and called right across the shop
“MISS MARKHAM!  GENTLEMAN’S PENIS IS TOO
SMALL TO ACTIVATE THE SCANNER!”  Dennis
felt as if he would die.

A tall blonde lady, dressed all in black strode over.  Dennis estimated her age as mid-thirties and her attitude as lethal.  She fixed him with a
cool stare.

“What seems to be the problem here?”

“Well, Miss Markham, the gentleman…” began one of the
younger assistants.

“I asked the gentleman here!” Miss Markham snapped, giving
her a murderous look. “Well?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

 

“My er,…” Dennis began, staring shamefacedly down.  He looked up and into the most piercing blue
eyes he had ever seen.  She was holding a
pen, which she started to tap steadily against her clipboard.  Her lips pursed.

“Small penis problem, is it?”

“Erm, yes.  You see I
-“

“You have a penis that is too small to function properly,
that is all I need to see” Miss Markham snapped back.  Several of the sales staff tittered.

“But if you can’t verify your identity, I’m afraid we’ll
have to deal with you as a criminal” Miss Markham went on, the merest hint of a
smile on her ruby lips.  I’ll have to
take you off to our holding room and investigate the matter thoroughly.”  One perfectly lacquered fingernail pushed
firmly against the clip holding the papers to her clipboard, forcing it all the
way down and then letting it snap back with savage force.
 

“Unless of course, you can produce an adequately sized penis
right here and now” she went on. 
“Adequate for ID verification purposes that is. I hardly think that it
would ever be suitable for anything else.”

She leaned forward to whisper in Dennis’s ear.

“And I see you’re wearing a wedding ring.  Please pass on my condolences to your
wife.  You might want to let her know
that our ladies department has a line of very discrete vibrators.  They come in lots of different sizes… all a
lot bigger than that.”
(Yes, I know this scene has nothing to do with the story.  But isn’t she wonderful?)
 

“The gentleman was saying as how he could manually – “
Dennis’s original assistant ventured, but Miss Markham just held her gaze to
his in silence.

“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary” she murmured.

They looked down. 
Dennis’s penis was no longer resting on the VC8000.  On the contrary, it seemed to have become
self-supporting, waving uncertainly an inch or so above the scanner.  It had also become at least an inch longer.

Miss Markham smiled and lowered her clipboard, concealing
the awful sight and firmly pressing Dennis’s cock down onto the black plastic
surface.  He gasped with shock and
pleasure.

There was a quiet beep and a light turned green.

Epilogue

Dennis’s wife, Mary came home to a room full of bags and
boxes.  “Oh darling!” she gasped.  “Whatever have you been buying?”

“Anything I like!” Dennis replied, proudly.  “Well, as long as it’s available at De
Lacey’s – but they sell everything under one roof, so why would that matter?”

“Oh darling!”, Mary remarked again (as ladies on this blog
are inclined to do).  “But, erm… what
about paying for them?  You know – your
little problem?”

“Not a problem any more!” Dennis beamed.  He had a sudden thought “Oh – and I got you
this.”

He handed her a gift-wrapped package and stood back.

“For me?” she asked. 
“Oh you shouldn’t have”.  And
quickly she unwrapped the ribbon and paper to reveal a long cardboard box.  She gently eased off the lid, to expose a
long, plastic object nestling on crepe paper inside.

“Oh darling” she said, running her finger lightly along its
length, gently stroking the ribbing, resting the tip on the buttons at the base.  “My
sweet, silly darling.”

“Did you think I didn’t have one already?”
 
 
 

In this absurd story, the part of Miss Markham was played by the fabulous Mistress Eleise de Lacey.  When I started writing the story, she wasn’t involved but she just arrived halfway through, and took over.

However, no resemblance of the characters to any person living or dead is intended.  Except the character of Dennis, who is very precisely based upon Servitor in all significant, and several insignificant, respects.

Informed consent

It’s very important.  She always informs me when my consent is required for something.











Penectomy trouble
Ignorance is no defence. 






Check-out time is when she decides to release you.





Hmmm. Interesting.  I wonder what she does use, then.  Any thoughts?





..and what’s the best?




Probably best not to ask… I certainly don’t know.



She seems nice.






I was going to point you to this forthcoming movie which looks very fine, but Paltego beat me to it.


So instead (trigger warning: vanilla.  And you have to enter access code 7201969), how about Anne Hathaway in space




Unreasonable force

Young dominant wife in charge mmmm
He’s a lucky guy.
Planet Femdom, of course.  If you like statuesque ladies brutally dominating… well, that bloke mostly.  I do, actually.  Rather a lot.

 
 
Castration at home
Cruelty-free farming has its downsides.  Still, I’m glad she found a solution.
 
 

Obedient servant femdom
Oh dear.  Another of those painful conversations.
 
 

Actually, the story is rather simple.  The post of office tampon boy was advertised, so he studied, and prepared and pulled every string he knew of to get it.  But wouldn’t you?



Try not to take it too badly.  Just because you’ll be spending the rest of your life alone, in poverty, with your empty days filled only with the longing for her doesn’t mean you have to be miserable.  It just makes it very, very likely.

Arbitrary power

It’s the best sort.

Cassie Hunter is wonderful
It’s the personal touch that counts.
The awesome Hunteress, also known as Mistress Cassie.  But you knew that! 
 

Slave quarters for Mistress
Summer on the roof, winter in the cellar…and you get to see how she lives in the rest of the house twice a year, when you go up or down.
 

Beaten by Mistress repeatedly
It’s worth taking the time to get these things right.
 

Slave cave
Don’t worry – you won’t have the apartment to yourself for long.  It’s not like you’re her only slave.
 

Castration femdom caption yet again
One form of castration is much the same as another, I reckon.  Just get on with it – that’s what I say.

Get a dose of her in jackboots and kilt

She’s the kind of a girl that makes the News of the World
Yes you could say she was attractively built.

(Pictures are unrelated. I just like the song and the idea of linking it to femdom.)

Bent over secretary
Yes, do try.  Fortunately, I had a bit of an off day when writing these captions, so there are no sexy thoughts here.  Carry on – it’s perfectly safe.
 

Mistress and sissy
Of course, you can refuse if you like.  But then she’ll stay cross.  That’s really not good news.
Lexi Sindel… and some bloke dressed in pink. 
 

Girl with sniper rifle
Hmmm.  Well, I’ll try anything once, you know?
 

Femdom scene 345
Errr… two and a half?  Two and three-quarters… thr… three?
 

Actually, this isn’t one of mine.  It just arrived in my email inbox.  I thought I’d share it.

Begging on the streets

Street begging?  Eh?  I’m opposed to it.  I just think it’s unecessary, and disturbs people going about their daily business.

But she insists on it, so of course who am I to argue?

SPH lady is precise
Actually, I prefer to use centimetres.  Or even milimetres.
 
 

Farmyard femdom oh my
I wonder what the prize is, if he gets them right?
 
 

Female led discussion
Then again, maybe we don’t have to discuss it right now…. We do?  Oh.  OK.
 
 
 
Slave furniture
Actually, the back of the laptop adjusts.  But her way’s good.
 
 

Bad news femdom snuff oh dear
I wonder what it can be?
 

Despised and rejected by women

…whenever I get the chance, but usually I have to pay for the privilege.  Ah well.

Mistress Eleise blonde joke
I like a domme with a sense of humour.  But actually, I’ve always been able to make girls laugh.  I remember my very first date – in school the next day, she and all her friends giggled whenever they saw me.  Just a knack.
 I try to identify and pay hommage to featured pro-dommes here, after downloading, lusting after and defacing their pictures.  But does anyone not know this is Mistress Eleise de Lacey already?  I mean, really?  Come on guys – do try to pay attention.
 
 

Superglue femdom
Dommes: don’t try this at home.  You can chip off the paintwork.  Do it at his place, instead.
 
 
 

More pig-sticking
Good luck, George.



Annabels will
I’ll bet she does.
This lady – Lady Annabelle – doesn’t feature here quite as much as Ms de Lacey.  But she’s very lovely too (and has a wonderful voice) and you can find more pics and video of her here, you lucky little perverts.
 
 
 
Castration fetish
Well, I think it’s disgusting.  Reading a squalid little porno blog like that.  Yuk.


Evil women doing horrible things to men

(I read somewhere that blog posts should have clear, factual titles to attract traffic.  And what could be more attractive than that title?)

Not that it really matters how he reacts, once the padlock’s on.
 

 

It’s often the simple things we men find most difficult.
 

 

Hmmm.  “If you didn’t want X, you shouldn’t have Y”.  Can’t think where I read that before, Servitor.
 

 

 
Well, I think it’s sweet.  In a slightly psychotic kind of way.

 



Yup.  Crying’s good.  Also screaming in frustration.  It all helps pass the time.  Actually, the chap pictured behind her there just squats down all day, gently rocking backwards and forwards and moaning in a steady rhythm.  Hey – it gets him through the day, you know?



Relationship management

I don’t really have much of a managerial role in our relationship, actually, so I don’t know too much about that.  This is what I know about:

Female led silence
It’s not easy being newlyweds – so many things to learn about how to live together.  Thank goodness for whips, eh?

Oh – and for some tips about marriage?  Try Servitor’s seven secrets series.  You’ll never see marriage in the same way again.
 
 

Punctured lung femdom - yummy!
No indeed.  He’s only got one left, and he’d hate to lose it.
 
 

Unsafe sex
Now I want you to know that Mistress Eleise, who features so beautifully in this image, would never really use a coathanger as a sound.  Not unless it was strictly necessary, anyway.
 
 

Tattoos and beating
Why do I imagine that what they decide to do about it will also involve beating…?
 
 

Rubber nurse fun
It’s actually quite hard doing open-heart surgery when you’re having an orgasm.  Fortunately, it’s only a man they’re operating on.