fiction – Page 6 – Contemplating the divine

Let down your hair

No – don’t try to struggle.
I tie men up for a living you know!
I do know how to make sure they can’t get free. Just wait quietly while the glue sets.

I said quietly!
There’s really no point in trying to talk. I can’t understand what you’re saying through
that gag. And anyway, I don’t care.

You know, I thought I recognised your voice, when you phoned
to make the appointment? But I couldn’t
place it. But the very moment you walked
through the door, I remembered of course.
Billy. Billy the bully.

I suppose you call yourself ‘William’ now, do you? Maybe
you’re a reformed character too, hmm? Or
are you just as unpleasant to the people you work with as you were to us at
school? Hmm? Especially the women, I expect. Unless you want something from them – I’ll
bet you’re a real arse-licker to boss, hmm?
You always were.

So now here we are.
Dominatrix and client. Helen and
William. God – that year when we had
French together with Madame Kerguelen! I
was sitting right on front of you. I
don’t think my head ever stopped hurting that year. You were such an evil little bastard. You know I even got detention once for crying
out, when you tugged really hard? Maybe
I should do that to you too – make you sit alone in a room for a few hours.

But it’s the hair-pulling that I really want you to
try. You see all that apparatus up
there? Well, when that glue has set in
your hair, the cords I’ve threaded all the way through it will be meshed firmly
into your hair. And I’ll attach them to
some of those chains and then we’ll start to have some fun.

“A bit of fun”?
Wasn’t that how you always described it?

Well, Billy boy, this is a pro-domme dungeon and I really
know how to have fun. Pull the hair and
make her cry, that was your favourite game, wasn’t it? Well, here we’ll play it with grown-up
equipment.

I’ll attach the chains to some of those little pullies I’ve
got up there, and I’ll put weights on them.
And we can slowly pull your hair.
You see – I’ve got some on the side, as well? So I can pull parts of your hair in different
directions. And I think from time to
time I’ll pick one up in my hand and attach a particularly heavy weight – and
then I’ll drop it. For a good old-fashioned
tug.

Just like old times.

The part of Domina Rapunzel in this tale was played by the original, mysterious, alluring and occasionally terrifying Mistress Eleise de Lacey.

Trustee

Ah, now that’s Servitor. Nasty perverted little piece of work, but
he’s a trustee now so he’s allowed outside.

You see, we had this competition among
inmates for ideas on how life here could become less pleasant. And Servitor came up with the daily branding.
Of course, we already knew that the inmates hate the branding iron, more than
anything else. But you can’t burn them
every day, they wouldn’t last their sentences.

So this clever little weasel came up with
the idea of strapping each inmate down every day. The guard stands behind the prisoner, and
grabs a red-hot iron, but she also grabs one that’s just slightly warm. Then another guard rolls two dice. If she
rolls two sixes, he gets the glowing brand, if she rolls anything else he gets
the cold one. But the movement is just
the same each time, so he won’t know until he feels it.

We do them in rows of 10 or so. According to this little worm, there’s a 25%
chance of at least one of them being burnt in each row. Every single day, back
they come, for their branding time.

Quite the clever little worm! But not a very lucky one are you,
prisoner? Show Sergeant Woods your arse!

See? Got three already. He probably goes around all day dreading
it. They all do. More than two years of his sentence to go… how many more double sixes, eh Servitor?

Every one of them richly, richly deserved.

The parts of the lovely (but firm!) guards in this short tale were played by Mistress Eleise de Lacey and Miss Woods. The part of the clever servitor was played with some difficulty by the real, stupid, Servitor.

Making babies together

Hey there! Morning
tiger! How ya doing?

You want to ring a doctor? Oh! Why? Is something wrong?

Awww… not too personal to tell me, surely honey?

Not gonna tell? OK. Let me guess. The end of your prick has swollen up and it’s
red and sore, right? And you’re feeling
kinda woozy?

Uh huh. Well, I know
what that is.

What!?? No! It is NOT a sexually transmitted
disease. Honey!

No, it’s much more beautiful
than that. We’re going to have a baby!
Well… I am. But you’re going to
hatch it.

Remember when we fucked last night, and you felt a sudden
sharp sting at the end of your cock?
Well, that was me! And it wasn’t a sting, it was an egg-laying
proboscis. And right now my lovely
little daughter is all curled up inside your cock, ready to grow.

No…no, don’t try to leave, honey. She wants to be with her Mommy. And if she senses we’re growing far apart,
she’ll release more of the paralysis toxin.
The only reason you’re conscious is that I’m here. She only needs to do that for a few days,
though. She’s got filaments spreading
along your nerve fibres, and when they reach your brain she can take
control. You’ll be free to move and
speak and stuff, but she’ll be in charge.
That way she can keep you safe as she incubates and feeds. It’s like being carried around wrapped in a cushion
of your favourite food!

Hmm? Oh, about nine
months, rather like you humans. She’ll
burrow up into your torso in about a week or so, though, there’s not enough
flesh in your cock to sustain her for more than a few days. She’s got feeding
tendrils that’ll spread throughout your body… muscles, liver, lungs. She’ll take a little from everywhere, try to
keep you alive as long as possible. Your brain’s probably going to be last on her menu – it’s kinda yummy but if you eat it up too quick, the host dies too soon.

Anyway, have some of this fruit. You’re probably hungry,
right? That’s her as well, trying to
fatten you up. I’ll fix breakfast. You want some
pancakes? I can do pancakes, the old-fashioned way. With maple syrup!

Legal niceties

Well, I
don’t know which out-of-date law books you’ve been reading, Mr Harris, but as
your attorney I have to inform you that you are labouring under a complete
misapprehension. There hasn’t been
‘alimony’ for over ten years, now.
There’s no question of your retaining any money, once you’re no longer
married! Your joint bank account will be
closed so of course any income you receive will be paid into hers, for a period of time of not less than eight years.

What? Division between the parties? What are you talking about? In a lesbian marriage sure, there’s a need to split the property. But there’s only one female party in this case, so of course everything goes to her.

No – the
only question for the judge is whether you’ll be sufficiently self-motivated to
continue to work hard under these arrangements, or whether she should be given
possession of you for a period of time to ensure collection.

Hmmm? Well, yes of course that would be slavery Mr
Harris. What else did you expect?

Now… your
wife’s lawyers are insisting on 25 years slavery with full punitive rights as a
non-negotiable item in the settlement.
But that’s probably just a tactic.
If we offer – say – ten years in her service, with whipping rights but
no branding, we’d probably get into a negotiation and with a bit of luck you’ll
be out of chains in, oh, fifteen years at the most, without too much damage.

Hmmm. Oh dear.
Except we have Judge Elliott.
She’s not usually very favourable to men. How do you feel about offering your wife
castration rights? That could sway
things quite a bit. We can try for a
guarantee of anesthetic, if you’re squeamish.

My fees, Mr Harris? Oh don’t worry about that. The question of legal fees won’t even arise until you’ve completed your period of servitude to her. Then the accumulated sum and interest is converted to a simple annual payment, with a court-appointed overseer given whipping rights to ensure collection. But my fees will be quite light – don’t worry. Of course, you’ll have to pay her lawyers too. But in any case, that’s at least fifteen years away, so I wouldn’t worry about it now.

Now… your wife’s likely to want to put you over the witness bench and have you cross-examined. So the court can determine how badly you’ve behaved to her. So, let’s make a list of all the ways you have wronged her over the years. Selfishness, harsh words, betrayal, unkind thoughts about her… that kind of thing. It’s best to be as honest as possible with me at this stage, as it will all come out in court, anyway. Opposing counsel can be very persuasive and they can keep you strapped there over the witness bench as long as they like.

What’s that, Mr Harris? Have I ever been through a divorce? What a peculiar question to ask your lawyer. Yes, I have as a matter of fact. Twice, actually. So I suppose I do know a bit about what you’re going through.

Hmmm? Yes, I suppose my ex-husbands do know all about it too! I don’t know much about what they thought of it, though. I don’t really speak to them very often. And of course, they’re not allowed to speak without my permission or in response to a specific order, so we don’t talk much.

No, they’re not here. I don’t keep them in the office. The man scrubbing the floor you probably saw on the way in belongs to Julie, my secretary. I handled the case for her, actually. Believe me – you do not want to end up like him! We ended up setting a legal precedent there – he’d only been married six months but she got him for twenty-seven years! Quite a triumph. But I’m on your side in this one – so you’ve really nothing to worry about. Have you?

As you might have realised, the part of the helpful divorce lawyer in this tale was played by the glorious Eleise de Lacy. Yeay!

She’s electric

A different format. Though I’ve done something like this once before.

New job

So, that’s that! Last
session. Hope you enjoyed it.

Hmm? No – I’m giving
up the business completely, I’m afraid.
Got another job!

You know about this new programme they have for convicted
rapists? Hard labour and corporal
punishment – well, it’s just like the
job, isn’t it? They even keep them in
chastity belts.

So I saw an ad for prison guards and I thought ‘why
not?’ I didn’t think they’d really want
a pro-domme, but I had an interview and then they gave me a rapist to work on –
you know, show what I could do. I really
enjoyed it, actually. Just brought home
to me how much I hate pandering to you lot – dressing up like this, not really
hitting hard, safewords, all that. So I really went for it.

And they said it was great! Later on, when he had his apology
session with his victim, they said they’d never seen anyone begging for mercy
so frantically. Didn’t do him any good –
she gave him the maximum additional years.
Apparently they always do.

So yeah, I start next Tuesday. No more pro-domme, no more
clients.

Hmm? No, I don’t want to stay in touch. If that’s all right.
It was always just business. You know?
There are plenty more dommes. You just have to accept that you’re not
seeing me again.

Well yes, I suppose we would see each other again if you rape someone! But really, you do not want to meet me like
that. You wouldn’t believe how much more
it hurts when I really mean it.

Oh – and rape is not a joking matter. Rather a bad note to end on, don’t you think? But then you always were a bit of a tosser. Now fuck off.

Yeah, you too. Bye. Stay out of trouble.

The role of the divine Goddess Heather in this story was played by, errr, Divine Goddess Heather, appearing in a Femme Fatale Films photoshoot.

Incoming call

Hey sweetie!

So, this is… oh I don’t know video diary number eleventy nine or something. But I checked the calendar and it’s exactly 11 months you’ve been in confinement! Pretty cool, huh? Nearly a year already!

Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m still here and looking after you! I mean, you can tell that because there’s still food coming through your feeding tubes, I guess. But anyway, you know I like to talk to you from time to time, and I had a few minutes so I thought I’d do another video.

So… speaking of feeding, I changed the mixture in your bucket last week. I read this article that said that raw celery was really good for the circulation, and as you can’t move any more, I thought that might be useful, so I chopped up a bunch and stirred it in.

Do you like my leather outfit? Huh? Does it still make your cock try to swell up, in its little tube? Or has it given up trying? I’ll never know or care, I guess. I’m going clubbing again so I thought I’d put on something special.

Anyway, I guess that’s about it. Oh! You know, I’m thinking of having you moved up from the cellar into the living room? Yeah! We could put you into that alcove, and Steve said he could build an extra box around your real box – so you just look like a piece of furniture – and plumb the waste pipe down through the floor. I thought we could put the TV on you, maybe, or at least a few pictures. So, you’ll know you’re being useful. Don’t worry about the noise, though: Steve said it could be completely soundproof. You won’t know if the TV’s on or off. But I guess you’ll feel the motion if we move you. Pretty weird to get sensory input like that, after all these months? It won’t be for a while, though. Steve’s pretty busy at work just now.

So…what else?

You know, I should get Steve to do a video. I know he said hi on that one I did back in the summer, but I think you should get to know him better. I mean, you feed on his food scraps just as much as mine, when he’s here, so it’s like he’s looking after you too. He thought it was a bit weird at first – I mean, hey, it is weird, right? But he’s OK with it now. The other day he only ate half his dessert and when I asked why, he said it was to give you a little treat! Wasn’t that kind? And he’s never even seen you. Of course, I just threw it in the garbage. You can’t have nice things like that. I told him the next day and he just laughed and said OK, because I’m the one in charge. He’s really cute. Anyway, I’ll make sure you see more of him next time.

So… yeah! I guess that’s it until next time. For me. For you, I guess this is it until this message repeats again tomorrow. You can hear it all over again! Won’t that be nice? But for now, it’ll be back into darkness in 3 – 2 – 1 –

Wifely duties

Oh, darling – I made an appointment with a disciplinarian,
like we talked about. I asked if you
could go tomorrow, but apparently it’s better not to do it straight away, so
you can dread it for a few days. Anyway, I’ve provisionally booked you in for
Tuesday – is that OK? You’d have to
leave work a bit early.

Fine. I’ll call her
to confirm.

Could you pass my skirt?

No, the blue one.

Thanks.

Now there’s a video you’re supposed to watch – of her caning
someone, she sent a link. She said you should watch it as soon as possible, so
you know how bad it’s going to be. It’s
about 20 minutes long – I think we’ve just got time right now before we go,
actually.

I watched the first minute or so and then I had to switch
off because it was so brutal! She just
flicks the cane down and there are these awful marks – well, you’ll see. He was crying and pleading – I just couldn’t
watch any more! It’s horrible to think of
her doing that to you. I hope we don’t
have to do this very often.

Now, did you get a bottle of wine like I asked you?

Oh darling, you didn’t forget did you, really? I made a point of reminding you this
morning. Oh how tiresome. You see – this is just the sort of thing I
mean. Honestly, I could cane you myself
right now, I really could.

Golden rule

Ohhh-kay! So did you
all hear what he just said, girls? Can
you remember what that’s called?

That’s right – the safeword. And when we hear the safeword what do we do?

That’s right. We stop. We stop immediately, OK? Always. NO exceptions. This is the most important thing we’re going to cover today – when you hear the safeword you stop. Period.

I mean, if this was a real session, with a regular paying client, that is. Obviously, it doesn’t matter when it’s only Trevor.

But normally – if it wasn’t Trevor – what we’d be doing right now is talking to him about what he’s finding difficult in the session, right? I mean, it’s probably that he can’t stand the pain of the whip any more, but we don’t know that, OK? Always check.

So – I’m going to keep on whipping him now, but just
remember – in a real session, I wouldn’t be doing this, not without checking
he’s OK with it.

Right, now I’m going to
start working from the other side. Watch
what happens when the tip catches one of the older welts.

This was the delightful Mistress Mina Thorne, in a photoshoot for Men Are Slaves.

And just for the record: this is just a silly fantasy, OK? No one was subjected to any non-consensual pain in the making of this blog post. Well… except Trevor, obviously.

He married a maths teacher

Now then, Colin, you’re…let’s see – five foot three in
height.

Runty little shortass.

Aaaannd your cock is… oh dear oh dear – three inches long.

Yes it is – look.

Oh for goodness’ sake.
All right, because the room’s a bit cold we’ll call it three and a
quarter, OK?

So – how much of you consists of cock? Can you work it out?

Sixty three inches tall, with a cock that’s three inches
long. Yes, all right, three and a
quarter. Pathetic.

So…? Three and a
quarter goes into sixty-three how many times?

Yes., it would be easier if it were just three into
sixty-three, wouldn’t it? But Mr Big
Swinging Quarter Inch insisted, didn’t he?
So now he’s going to have to work a bit harder.

Nineteen and…. Nineteen and a bit, you say? What – a little extra foreskinny bit?

OK, yes, let’s call it one in 20.

So – what proportion of you is cock?

No, not one in twenty.

Hmmm?

Well, because you’re not one-dimensional, of course. Except emotionally.

No, that was a joke.
Look – even though you look like a single long stream of piss, you are
in fact a three-dimensional object, so your mass and volume go up in proportion
to…?

In proportion to…?

Sigh. No, not
‘pi’. In proportion to the cube of your
length.

Your cock is one-twentieth of your length, so it constitutes
about one over twenty cubed of you.
Which is?

One four thousandth?
Do you need the cane? I knew we
should have done this as a schoolboy detention game. Try again.

Eight thousand!
Correct! Finally.

Now, you spend about six thousand hours each year
awake.

So – how much time each year should you spend playing with
your cock? Hmm? If that’s proportional to its size?

That’s right.
Three-quarters.

Every year, you get to spend 45 minutes playing with your
cock. Not all at once, obviously. I was thinking maybe three fifteen-minute
goes.

No, I don’t want to discuss it, I just want you to say ‘Yes
Chloe’ and thank me.

That’s right.

Oh don’t look so depressed.
Imagine how bad it would be if you were of normal height!

…and it wouldn’t be such fun beating you up, either.