castration – Page 22 – Contemplating the divine

Self-discipline

They say that self-discipline is a very important trait to develop. But it’s just never as good as the real thing, is it?

On we go, burbling and stumbling gradually into total irrelevance.

He was known as a bit of a ball-breaker too, which is actually rather ironic considering what happens to him when the laundry isn’t done to everyone’s satisfaction.

Aren’t they great? ~~This is the Dutch airforce. Well, not all the Dutch air force, obviously.~~ Found on this rather unusual tumblr (I don’t often credit tumblrs, but this is a bit different) http://dommesmilitaire.tumblr.com/ If anyone knows of a country that’s likely to be invaded by ~~the Netherlands~~ in the near future, do let me know, as I think I’d like to be oppressed by these people.

OK, thanks to an anonymous commenter below, I now know this is not the Dutch air force, but the US air force. In Alaska. Not Holland. Well… I was close.

Still, I suppose that will at least make the task of finding a country likely to be invaded by these people a little easier.

Kind of puts things into perspective, don’t you think?

Oh for goodness sake! I’m into femdom because I don’t want to make choices! Why are so many dommes so soft?

This is an image from Cruella, the Lady Victoria – who was presented as the Editrix of their magazines. Of course, that was long ago, before the Internet. 1990 or thereabouts, and I a callow young student, nervously travelling down to London to buy a brown paper bag of magazines… aye, we made our own entertainment in them days, you know.

In some households the husband fucks the maid, too. But not in this one. She doesn’t have the key, anyway.

Bridegroom punishment in female led relationship

Yes, that’ll help get you in the mood to take your weddings vows. Not the wishy-washy ones during the church service. The real ones, just before.

There must be an angel

(playing with my heart)

It’s amazing what you can achieve with a little thoughtfulness and the daily touch of a razor-sharp blade.

When the cat’s away, the mice will.. well, do their chores and write lines, by the look of it.

Sometimes these things are just, well, involuntary aren’t they? It’s not that she wants to burn your hand with the iron – she just feels a compulsion.

She’s probably joking. Don’t you think she’s joking?

There are more hot chicks in empire-line dresses right here, if that’s your thing. According to Google, though, I’m the only person in the world for whom “hot chicks in empire-line dresses” is a thing, so maybe not.

Bedside manner

Mr Isaacs? Oh hi –
I’m Suzie Brooks. I just wanted to come
and introduce myself, because I’m going to be your castration nurse this
afternoon.

Yes, well I just think it’s more friendly this way. You know – if the hands that are holding your
testicles don’t belong to a complete stranger!

No, that’s right, I’m certainly not a doctor. I’m a student nurse, actually! I’m being assessed on this afternoon’s
operation, so if you can – you know – say what a good job I did, that would
really help.

Oh god, no! You’re
not the first. I’ve done…oooh, let me see.
I think you’re the eleventh, actually.
I want to specialise in castrations, you see – I really love it. Hoping to get a transfer to the sissy ward.

Sorry – that’s just what we call it. You won’t say anything, will you? Thanks!

So, do you have any concerns about the operation?

Well, duh! I
mean apart from not wanting to have your balls cut off! Obviously!

I haven’t met a man who wanted it yet! I had this really angry guy last time –
serial rapist, apparently! Anyway, he
was straining at the bonds, and shrieking and yelling blue murder – what a business! Still, we got him done. One less rapist out there, eh?

Oh don’t worry, I know you’re not!
I read your file. Yes – it was
just sexual harassment in the office, wasn’t it? You told a sexist joke or something?

Well, OK. But she
thought it was sexist, obviously, and that’s what matters. Maybe
she over-reacted, I suppose. Some women
do. There’s always two sides to the
story, aren’t there? Still, better to
nip it in the bud now, just in case.

No – she’s not coming.
We invited her, of course. Most
complainants like to be there – they get to choose the exact moment when I
cut. It’s really annoying,
actually. I’m standing there holding the
balls in one hand, holding the handle of the elastrator in the other. And I have to wait until they say go… and
some of them take their time, I can tell you.
Slow countdowns, that kind of thing.
And that handle’s really highly sprung – basically I just have to loosen
my grip, and the two handles spring apart and the wire does the rest. Kind of like a cheese wire – you know?

Anyway, it’s a lot easier if the victim’s not there. I can just pop them off straight away. Nothing to it.

So…is there anything I can do to make you a bit more
comfortable? No, I’m afraid those have
to stay on. If we stretch the ball sack
like that for a few hours before, the cut’s a lot cleaner. Actually, the ward nurse will probably be
along in a moment to double the weight.
There’s only two hours to go, after all.

OK, then. Well, I’ll
be back in a couple of hours.

And… don’t forget what I said about the assessment, OK? I know it’s just a routine op, but…well, it’s
really important for me. Good firm grip,
straight into position with the elastrator in a nice smooth movement, not being put off by pleading, or by the
screaming when I cut – that’s the kind of thing they’re looking for, OK?

Great. Well here
comes the nurse with your extra weights.
See you later!

Worshipping graven images

Actually I don’t know if these images have been ‘graven’. To be completely honest, I don’t really know what ‘graven’ means. But occasionally I like to hearken back to the title of the blog with a religious reference.

And isn’t it amazing, if you go googling phrases relating to punishment and humiliation, looking for bdsm porn (as we do), how most of the vanilla sites you find are religious? Hmmm… something to be explored there, I’d suggest.

But not in this blog. On we go.

And you’ll do.

Well? Have you?

This is the divine Goddess Heather. Have I featured her image before, for you all to worship? Well yes, I think I might have done once or twice.

She shouted at me once, across the floor of a club, you know. Treasured memory…

Poor Simon. It must be very difficult for him. Almost as difficult as it’s going to be for you.

Actually, there are other ways to make the swelling go down. But amputation is easily the best. Don’t worry – they’ll fit you with a prosthetic replacement.

A lot of men don’t realise that when they’re married, they’re expected to discuss things a lot more. Such as discussing why they’re late home, discussing why the ironing wasn’t done to her satisfaction, discussing whether he can stand up or must remain on his knees for a bit longer – that kind of thing. It’s all about communication.

Three colours

Variations on a theme…

Administrative oversight

Mr Hadley? Hi – I’m
Suzie Parker, from the legal department.

I’m very well, thank you.

Now, first of all I’d like to apologise once more for this
dreadful mix-up. We do everything
possible to avoid mistakes, but it’s a big hospital carrying out hundreds of
operations every day, and this sort of thing will happen from time to
time. We’ve had a preliminary
investigation, and it seems the medical staff weren’t at fault at all – it did
say penectomy on your admission papers.
It must have been some kind of typo at the admission stage. Nobody’s fault really, just one of those
unfortunate things.

The good news is that of course we want to offer you
compensation. This will be without any
admission of liability, and you’ll have to sign a form saying you
requested this operation voluntarily.

If you won’t sign?
Well then of course we’d contest any compensation claim in court. You’d have to prove it was our fault. Of course, you’d be completely within your
rights to do so if that’s what you want.
At the moment, there’s a bit of a backlog, so it might take a few
years. And we tend to appeal decisions
all the way up the legal system – just to discourage frivolous claims, you see. But still, if that’s what you –

Will you? Oh
good. I’m sure that’s the right
decision. So here’s the consent form…

…that’s right. And
then if you could write out that sentence by hand, before signing.

Mmmm… “Genitalia” with only one “t” actually. Oh I know – I always get that wrong too!

Lovely. And sign
there. And here. And separately there. Great.

Now, the compensation scheme we operate is a generous one,
but there is a sliding scale. It’s based
upon the loss caused, you see. It’s not
too complicated, but you have to fill in all this information,
then we’ll work out how much you’ve lost because of this silly mistake.

That’s right…age, you see, and whether you’re married.

That? Oh, well we
need to know the number of sexual partners in a year, because that affects the
assessment of the loss caused by the removal of your testicles. So the number of women – sorry, or men is
it? Right – the number of women you’ve
had sex with in the last three years. I
bit intrusive, I know, but you can see the point. I mean, we wouldn’t want to be paying a lot
of compensation to someone for the removal of his balls if he never used them,
would we?

Really? As many as
that? You do know we’ll be requiring
signed affidavits from each sexual partner, and –

– yes, of course you
can change it. Best to get these things
right from the start. OK, that looks a lot more reasonable.

Hmm?
Masturbation? What do you mean,
masturbation? Oh – oh I see. So, you’d be claiming that the loss of your
testicles has caused you harm because it makes you less likely to…yes, I
suppose I see. I’m not sure what our
policy is on that. I don’t think I can think of a similar claim before… I mean, in some ways
it’s a benefit, isn’t it? Not having
that silly little habit any more? I
mean, most men grow out of that when they’re teenagers, don’t they? Still, I’ll check for you, OK? You might get something.

Now for the penectomy, the sliding scale is based upon
size. So, if you could just indicate…
there. Yes. And the girth, too… you can just guess that one if you don’t
really know. Many men don’t.

Wow. That was a big
one, wasn’t it? What a shame you didn’t have any girlfriends!

Erm… you do realise, of course, that the hospital retains the,
um… material that was surgically removed, so they could make a scientific
estimate of the likely extent of the –

Yes, you can change that too. Easy to get confused. Gosh, that’s a lot less, isn’t it? Maybe you were confusing centimetres and
inches? Easily done.

Right, well of course our claims department will
be processing this, and you’ll receive notification of the exact sum due to you
in about two months time. But from the
look of it, my guess, is that you could be looking at…well, several hundred
pounds at least! Won’t that be nice!

Oh – and I forgot to mention the best news of all! Although of course we admit no liability, the hospital wants to offer you a 10% discount off the tonsilectomy you were actually supposed to have! And the same surgeon insists on carrying it out! No really. She says it’s the least she can do, after inconveniencing you so much in this way.

Post-orgasm

Lots of people say that they love the post-orgasm state best of all. I’m not sure about that. I’ve been in a post-orgasm state since Day 2 of my marriage, and I have to say, it’s not doing a lot for me. My wife says I should give it more time, though, and she’s usually right about these things. And everything else.

On we go:

I don’t know about you, but I always find I come up with a snappy answer to that sort of question just a few minutes later, when it’s really too late.

Actually, quite a lot of the boys have burn marks, in all sorts of places, so the mistake’s understandable. Still – what a nuisance, eh?

Young people have these wild enthusiasms. When she bought it, she thought she’d be making waffles every day, but soon enough it was left in the bottom of the cupboard, forgotten and unwanted.

Women! So forgetful. It’s a good thing they’ve got us to look after them, isn’t it?

Contempt. Many pro-dommes try to conceal it, but ladies – if you’re ever visited by Servitor, feel free to tell me exactly what you think of this forty seven year-old client…

Boundaries

Another one that was just too long (ironically, enough, given the theme) for a caption.

…and I was thinking it would make things easier for both of
us, you see? Because I know how
frustrated you get, locked up in that thing,
So if you only have half as many balls, you ‘ll probably only want to
come half as often. And it’s better for
me too, because I won’t have to keep unlocking you every few months.

The penectomy? Well
that’s just cosmetic. I just thought we
could get you tidied up down there.
Make it a lot shorter.

Well, sure, I know I’ve always said it’s too short already. But I mean it is too short for penetration and
stuff like that. But you’re never going
to need it for that again, so we might as well cut it back a bit.

How much? How much of what?

Oh, I see. Well, as long as there’s enough there for you
to grab on to when I unlock it, I suppose. An
inch…maybe a bit more?

No, not an inch
off, silly. An inch left.

Hmmm?

Well, that’s why I’m talking to you about it. Our contract’s very clear that I can’t have
you castrated without consent. I meant
it then and I meant it now. I’d like you
to do this willingly, I really would. I
know it’s better for both of us.

Oh.

OK. Well, I’m sorry
you feel that way about it. I really
am. Maybe if you think about it a bit
longer, we can…?

Uh huh. Well, if you’re
going to be like that I guess there’s nothing more to talk about.

Only, I have been thinking about it, you see. And I’ve been reading that contract we
signed. And I think you’ll find it
defines ‘castration’ as removal of the slave husband’s balls. Plural.
Not ball – balls. And it says
nothing about your cock, just that I can’t subject you to anything that removes
your ability to function sexually, without consent.

And with your one ball, and your one-inch cock (and after
that little tantrum, you can forget about getting anything more than an inch,
buster!), your little messing can still happen.
Whenever I decide it’s OK.

So, I’m afraid this is going to have to be one of those
things that the mistress decides and the slave husband just has to accept. And I’ve already made the booking and paid a
deposit anyway.

Hmmm? Oh, Wednesday I
think. Or was it Thursday? Bring me my diary – it’s in the hall.

He is contented thy poor drudge to be…

To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.

No want of conscience hold it that I call

Her ‘love’ for whose dear love I rise and fall.

…and about to become rather an exciting one!
On the left, Domina Heelena and on the right, Mistress Arella. Sisters, I believe. And in the middle, down below, you.

Don’t worry. If you don’t have time to finish them all by your next visit, I’m sure she won’t mind at all.
This is Domina Liza, in case you are feeling adventurous or very, very guilty.

Mmmm…breathplay. Shame it has to end, really.

Oh go on. Wives always love it when their husbands take an interest in their hobbies.

These magnificent creatures are from Planet Femdom. And so are the ladies.

Cut short

One caption and five short stories all about… oh, you’ll see what the theme is. Not for everyone, but those of you who like this theme seem to like it a LOT.

George goes looking

Of course, George knew he shouldn’t pry into her
secrets. But he really had stumbled
across the little cloth bag by accident.
And, truth be told, after the initial shock, he was secretly rather
turned on by the thought of his young, innocent (or not-so-innocent, he
thought, deliciously) wife playing with herself. The vibrator was quite complex, bifurcating
at the end into two quite separate attachments, one ribbed and one smooth. There were also several tubes of different
brands of lubricator, a book of what he presumed to be mommy porn and a couple
of DVDs.

Giving in to curiosity, he carefully placed one of the DVDs
into the player, unbuttoned his trousers and settled back on the bed to
watch. While it was loading, he turned
at random to one of the stories in the porno book. The first page or two seemed to be all about
a description of Derek, and his massive penis and balls, so he flipped quickly
through the pages, looking for the sex scene.
It was a doctors and nurses story, it seemed and Derek soon got tied
down and then –

Then
the story seemed to go in a direction his brain could hardly process. Derek’s massive balls remained the focus of
the story, with much loving description of how elasticised tape was round
around them tighter, and tighter, and then a metal dish was placed underneath,
as one of the nurses reached forward with a pair of cutters and…and…

He
looked up in shock. The DVD was frozen
on the menu screen. A poor quality image
filled the screen – obviously from a home movie – of a tightly gagged man
staring out with eyes widened in terror.
Behind him were the blurry shapes of two middle-aged women, fully
clothed, their faces covered by masks. “Painful
penectomy #19” read the title, inviting the viewer to press play or select
scenes. The little images of the later
scenes showed…something impossible.

“George?”
he heard from the bedroom door.

Full settlement

“Do
I really have to do this?” he asked wretchedly, looking out through the
stationary car’s windscreen at the semi-detached house opposite.

Emily
squeezed his knee sympathetically. “I
know it’s difficult, Alan. But you just
have to do this once and then you’re a free man. Actually, you’re keeping more than most men
do, these days. Take it from me – I’ve been a divorce lawyer for nine years,
and it’s never been as difficult for men as it is now. At least you kept 20% of your income. Come on, let’s go in.”

“Into
my very own house” Alan muttered, as he got out and they started to cross the
road.

“Best
not to think like that” Emily advised.
“It’s her house now, so there’s no sense in moping about it.”

“But
does she have to make it all so public?” Alan murmured despairingly as they
arrived. And it was true – Karen had
really made a party of it. As the
laughing, chatting crowd parted to let them through, he thought he recognised
several of his ex-girlfriends. And he
got an evil stare from Karen’s friend Janice.
He’d always hated Janice and the feeling was mutual. In fact, he strongly suspected that Janice
had inspired his wife to divorce him, and to fight so hard through the courts.

“It’s
quite the fashion” Emily admitted.
“Actually, I did it when I divorced my husband too. Women love to come to settlement
parties. Especially when there’s a
castration involved – oh look, there’s Karen.
Come on – it’ll all be over soon enough.”

“All
here to watch me lose everything.” Alan sighed, as he walked slowly forward to
where the desk with the freshly printed papers was waiting for his signature,
next to a table with leather straps waiting – he assumed – for his wrists and
ankles. He kept his head down, not
meeting Karen’s eyes – but instead found
his gaze drawn to the shining instrument she was clutching in her hand.

Cliché

“You know” she said, kindly,
“actually I’m quite embarrassed. I mean,
it’s such a cliché, isn’t it? Sexy woman picks up a guy in a bar, suggests
some mild bondage, and then turns into some kind of psychopath when he’s all
tied up.”

“So…you’ll let me go?” he gasped,
desperately.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll let you
go, sweetie” she giggled. “Most of you,
anyway. Now I’ll be back in a few
minutes, when I’ve sterilised the instruments.
And like they always say in the bad movies – don’t go away!”

Last chance

“But – “ Christopher pleaded
despairingly.

“No argument” the doctor said,
sternly. “They’re both infected, and if
we don’t amputate immediately the infection’s going to spread. I’m sorry, but there’s no other option. Nurse!
Can you prep the patient for immediate surgery?” And he walked off.

“Sorry love” the buxom blonde
nurse remarked sympathetically, as she started to draw the curtain’s around
Christopher’s bed. He sat back,
devastated. This was not how he imagined
being nineteen would be.

“Nurse” he quavered, as she
injected something in his arm.

“Yes, love? Anything I can get you? It’ll take a few minutes for the anaesthetic
to take hold. Then you’ll feel all
relaxed.”

“It’s just…well, I’m still –
still a virgin!”

And he started crying.

“Awww…there there” she
shushed. “Poor thing. Never mind – there’s other things in life.”

He looked up at her hopefully,
and she got his meaning.

“Why you cheeky little – I’m old
enough to be your –“

But then her heart melted at his
sad little face. “Oh – I’d like to help,
love, I really would. As it’s your first
time; well your only time actually. Only
it’s my time of the month! I’m sorry.”

Then she had an idea, and smiled,
first to herself and then down at him.
“You just hold still then” she murmured, gently lifting his surgical
gown aside. Then she licked her ruby-red
lips, while smiling down, now gazing at the excited swelling rising up to meet
her from below.

She bent down, and he could feel
her hot breath, against the straining, shiny, taut glans of his engorged penis.
She opened her lips, giggled slightly, and –

“CARDIAC ALERT! CARDIAC ARREST IN WARD B. ALL NURSES ENGAGED IN NON-ESSENTIAL
PROCEDURES IN WARDS A-C TO WARD B IMMEDIATELY. IMMEDIATELY.”

“Ooops…sorry love. Not your lucky day is it?”, she called over her shoulder,
dashing away.

Feebly, Christopher lifted his
right hand towards his still straining member, for one…last…

…and then the anaesthetic took
hold, and he found he couldn’t move. The
nurse had been wrong. He didn’t feel
relaxed at all.

Listen very carefully, I will say this only once

“STOP THE PROCEDURE!” Isabell
Green shouted, crashing through the operating theatre door. “The DNA test says it’s mistaken identity!
I’ve got a stay from the court!”

From all fours on the operating
table, Mark looked up at his triumphant, panting lawyer, hardly daring to
believe it.

Then he felt a sharp pain between
his legs. And heard a dull, wet
thud. Like a small piece of meat from
the butcher’s shop falling, against a metal surface. And in the background, that tinny, irritating
music.

The music got a little louder as
the doctor behind him looked up, and took out one of her earpieces.

“Sorry, what was that?” she
asked. “I had my i-pod in.”