Your saintlike face and your ghostlike soul


It’s easy to tell when someone’s smiling, even behind a medical mask.

 

 

 

Original sins, so to speak.  Ho de ho.

 

 

 

Now here’s a lady with an original approach to BDSM. It might seem surprising that a bee-keeping outfit can actually be more scary than the traditional leather uniforms, but believe me: once you’ve experienced that kind of play, you’ll agree that it is.




She got accustomed to having her own way when they were all encouraged to stay in character on-set and she’s never really readjusted to the real world.  Probably best to humour her.  Her  entourage do: that’s why they got you.


 

 

Like many guys I vividly remember the very first time I totally failed to have sex with a girl.  She was rather sweet about it, actually, which in retrospect is a shame, as if she’d humiliated and mocked me, I might have got excited and been able to rise to the situation.  Oh well… it was very special, anyway.

 

Making the claimant whole

 


 

Ohh…kay.  I’ve heard
enough and I’m ready to render summary judgment here?

So, first off, obviously the claimant has suffered a loss
and associated trauma.  This court – and
I think all parties to this case – acknowledge his suffering and I am sure I speak for everyone in this room when I say we sympathise
deeply.  It was a terrible, terrible
thing to happen.

Equally, terrible things happen.  That’s life.  The medical profession makes mistakes, as do we all.  The apology the hospital issued was
short, admittedly, but “Sorry we castrated you by mistake.” is at least simple
and clear.  Brevity is a virtue: I see no reason to doubt the
sincerity of the apology offered.  The
hospital administrator has assured me that the additional comments added to
that email, referring contemptuously to the size of the material removed, were
never intended for publication and they do not know which of the nurses or
doctors – if indeed it was a member of the hospital personnel – was responsible
for that, or for the subsequent wide dissemination of the comments on social
media.  And also of course the photographs, which the claimant understandably found acutely embarrassing, not least because the
women’s undergarments and the ‘humorous’ positioning of the sex toy seem to have been placed on him after
the administration of general anaesthetic. 
Should the perpetrators ever be identified, they should suffer
consequences – a significant financial penalty at least – as this was a serious
breach of medical ethics.  As was the
medically unnecessary and inappropriate use of the enema.  These things should never have happened.

However, the hospital administrator has made strenuous
efforts to discover the perpetrator – or perpetrators – and failed. 
All three of the medical personnel who had the opportunity to have carried out these hurtful acts have testified in this
courtroom it wasn’t them. I have considered but here reject the claimant’s
lawyers interpretation of Nurse Taylor’s repeated giggling on the witness
stand.  Her subsequent comments on
Twitter, while hurtful in the extreme, do not in any way constitute evidence of
guilt.  Similarly, the fact that the bought the underwear in which claimant was so wrongly dressed up, while unconscious, and that the photographs were found on her phone, both constitute circumstantial evidence at best.  Another nurse on duty testified that Nurse Taylor is conscientious to a fault and I found the claimant’s counsel’s suggestion that this witness’s long-standing lesbian relationship with Nurse Taylor – and indeed her participation in a lesbian dating ring’ with the other two hospital staff who might have been involved – might in some way have influenced her opinion… well, I just find that suggestion to be offensive beyond belief.  I will note at this point that I myself am a lesbian, counsel, as it happens and I hope that you would not dream of suggesting that my opinion in a case in which three lesbians are alleged to have unnecessarily castrated a male and then exposed him to ridicule on social could in any way affect my judgement.  My comments complimenting Nurse Taylor on her appearance were simple courtesy, nothing more.  I shall be pursuing this matter further, counsel, believe me.

 


 

Where was I?  Oh yes.

Anyway, I think we just have to conclude we’ll never know. I am satisfied the
hospital administration was not at fault and the apology is there, so that’s
that.  Just one of those things: claimant
needs to move on, as Nurse Taylor so fetchingly put it.

Turning to the matter of compensation, of course some
financial settlement is due.  Claimant
has suffered a loss and deserves compensation just as would someone – say – whose car
had been unnecessarily crushed.  To pursue the analogy, however,
it would obviously not be just to award someone compensation as if they had
lost – say – a brand new Ferrari, when the vehicle of which they had been deprived was in fact an old two-door hatchback that won’t start without being given a push.  Or a rusty
bicycle with wonky wheels.  The compensation has to be commensurate with the value of what was lost – in this case, claimant’s genitalia.  Can we even put a monetary value on such a loss?  Many would find that distasteful, but the law requires us to try.

In that context, I am therefore going to admit the evidence
adduced by the defendants.  Although I
recognise that the claimant’s existing embarrassment has unfortunately been
enhanced by the sequence of witnesses who have been former sex partners – mainly paid sex workers – testifying
to his sexual prowess, or rather the lack of it, I am convinced that this is
relevant evidence. Indeed, from their testimony it is hard to see that the
claimant’s ability to engage in what he considers sexual activity has been
harmed in any way by his loss – after all, he still possesses a tongue and the
streetwalkers downtown still have shoes and toilets. Certainly, there seems to be no likelihood at all that the claimant has been deprived of anything that a normal person would describe as ‘sexual intercourse’ as – with all due apologies for any embarrassment this must undoubtedly cause him – he is thoroughly unattractive as he is and was probably still more so, when he had functional genitalia still attached.  Defendant’s counsel has suggested that ‘creepy’ is  the word that springs to mind on first meeting the claimant and I have to concur: that was precisely my thought on the very first day of trial.  This observation – undisputed by claimant’s own counsel who appears to avoid any close contact with him even here in court – seems highly relevant to the matter of compensation.

I am also aware that any financial compensation he receives could be used to further his disgusting pursuits, although obviously that consideration can play no role in my decision.

Nonetheless, claimant suffered a loss and I am therefore
here ordering that the hospital pay him the sum of two hundred and forty-five dollars and thirty-five cents in compensation.  Plus interest.  Let that stand as a statement of this court’s firm disapproval of the negligence the hospital showed in this case.  I don’t want to see you back here, so don’t do it again.

Right.

Now, turning to the question of costs, these have run into
many hundreds of thousands of dollars over the course of this rather disturbing case. 
Claimant had every right to seek justice – but equally, the hospital has
a right to its defence.  Lawyers are
rightly not cheap, any more than the sex workers who had to be paid for their
time testifying – at length – about the claimant’s physique and practices.  Someone has to pay for all this.  The question I ask myself, is whether these
costs should be paid from the funds of a hospital, devoted to saving lives –
recognising that any such payment could directly impede their ability to
provide patient care – or, to quote one of claimant’s emails to a sex worker, a
“disgusting little worm” who pays women to humiliate and abuse his “revolting
micro-dicklette”.  Or did, before the
defendants did us all the service of removing it.

Not an easy decision, obviously.  Nonetheless…

 


Nurse Taylor’s the one on the left, in case you’re interested.  She’s giggling beneath her mask, but don’t worry: that’s just a nervous tic she has.  You’ll be fine.



NB: in case you were wondering how come the judge uses  lot of British language at times but the compensation is set in dollars, the explanation is, erm… it’s in Australia!  Or New Zealand.  Or somewhere like that, anyway, where all the legal terms are exactly as set out here.  I mean, it must be.  I don’t just make this stuff up, you know.

Brutal honesty

They do say honesty is the basis of every successful romantic relationship – but brutality has its place too.


Don’t worry – she has lots of equipment and techniques to help manage the pain.




They do say small ones have more pain receptors per square millimetre, which is actually quite a turn-on for a lot of ladies.



He’s the foundation of the building just behind her, by coincidence.




Time for the evil – sorry, what?  I can’t say that word!



OK, well if the other two are totally straight I guess they won’t need licking clean, for a change, so that’s a bonus.











Youngers and betters

 

Memo to self: stop using the phrase “there’s nothing worse than X” in front of SO.  She takes it as a personal challenge.



You’ll soon discover that a day with no whipping at all is a special day. Very special.

 

 

 

 

Don’t worry, they’re not having you castrated and lobotomised until after the marriage.  Just after: between the ceremony and the reception.  You can think of it as your wedding gift to them.

 

 

 

 

 

Poor old Simon – doesn’t get to see the sexy lingerie!  And to think she was worried you might be jealous of him.



Appendectomy: of course.  After all, that nurse would hardly have shaved his groin area this morning if it was his throat that was being operated on, now would she?  

 

Losing touch with reality

 

 

OK, Mr Jones, so you’re saying that rather than seeing me – a
middle-aged medical professional – you’re seeing a young lady dressed like a
strippagram nurse, wearing red thigh-high boots? And instead of being about to
lie down on my couch for a series of ocular function tests, you’re going to be
tightly strapped down to a hospital bed and masturbated to a series of forced
orgasms?

Goodness. 

How about now, if I stand up and move away from the couch –
can you see me now?  Dark blue suit,
short grey hair…?  What do you see?

 

ReallyOh dear.  Well, I might have looked a little like that
thirty years ago… but only a  little.  And I don’t think I’ve ever worn a latex dress.

Things are worse than I thought, I’m afraid.  This is perhaps the most sustained and
coherent set of hallucinations I’ve ever encountered from someone in your
condition.  I’m sorry to have to tell you that without
effective treatment, this is only going to get worse.  I’ll be completely honest with you:
you could end up losing touch with reality completely… these hallucinations
would become your world.  You’d obviously
have to stay in a care facility… you’d be well fed and perfectly comfortable,
but you’d have no interactions with the real world at all; everything you see
and experience would be translated into these bizarre, fetishistic BDSM
experiences.

Let’s delay the ocular tests for now – I want to tell you
about an experimental treatment we can try. 
It hasn’t completed all of its clinical trials yet, but initial
indications are promising so it is available for use, if the patient requests
it.  I’m not saying you should or that
you shouldn’t.  But unless you want to
spend the rest of your life like this, I think it’s the only option.  If it works, these hallucinations will end at
once – for good.  That has to be worth a
try, I’d have thought.  But it’ll be your
choice. 

Tell you what: I’m going to refer you to one of my
colleagues, Dr Stevens. She is the specialist on this and she can give you some
literature about it and answer any questions you might have.

Oh – here she is now, actually.  Dr Stevens?


 

Poor chap.  I do hope they can cure him.

Graceful brutality

 

 

Funny how many girls make that mistake.


 

 

Sounds like they’ve got some lost time to make up for.

 

 

I remember early in our relationship, my SO ordering me to bring her a whip for my impertinence.  I told her I didn’t think I had said anything impertinent that deserved a whipping and she laughed and said I just had.  It seemed a little unfair to me, but I didn’t want to argue about it and ruin the mood.

 

 

 

I’m afraid it won’t make you taller, though: that’s just one of those myths. I mean, maybe your spine will be longer by an inch or so at most, but since you won’t be able to walk with all the joints in your limbs dislocated, it won’t bring you any real benefits.  

 

Like many Hollywood stars, she keeps her private relationships carefully out of the media’s eye.

 

And now for something largely similar

Right… ten more years then.  The terrible teens begin here.  How terrible can they be?  Let’s find out, shall we?

 

 

He should be thankful.  Not for anything in  particular – just generally, all the time.

 

 

Regrettably, he won’t be perfect for long.  She breaks things.

 

 

 

It is a good one.  Here’s another: what do you do if you see a blonde undressing, through an open window?  Eight years hard labour!  Do you get it?  Maybe one day you will.

 

 

Look at the lovely lady on the right, there.  Rightly proud of her work.

 

 

 

‘Something plausibly similar to male genitalia’ is the best some of us can hope for.




Looks like all those caning fantasies are going to come true.




Bad Pookie.  Just imagine being close to thinking about disobeying her like that!  On second thoughts, don’t imagine it… she wouldn’t approve.



If there was anything she could do to make you feel better, she’d do it – you know that, right?



Anyway, maybe some of the other patrons would like to skip the queue too.


 

Ooh – the tips of her shoes look just like the inside of my chastity belt!  Maybe we could strike up a conversation, now I know we’ve something in common.




And, of course:




Last of the thing?

I’ve done a few posts about the thing… The thing that’s been doing its thing all this year. Anyway, thank goodness female participation in STEM subjects has been going up, because there seem to have been anti-thing vaccines invented in record time… although, to be fair, the men involved deserve some credit too, I’m sure, as the scientists probably needed a regular supply of coffee at work, and supportive hubbies back home too.

So… this may well be my last post about the thing.  But we’ll see.  Maybe there’ll be another thing.  Whatever happens, I will be here, with a painfully contrived femdom take on the situation.

 

Lots of people are finding life very frustrating at the moment.  She understands that.


 

 

Some of her male patients have actually become clients, since, I understand.  It just goes to show, doesn’t it?  



He doesn’t need to self-isolate because they already did that for him.



My own domme is doing occasional sessions, despite being in tier 2.  When I arrive at her dungeon, I don’t see her straight away. I strip, then I have to coat myself all over in sanitising gel, insert a thick rubber dildo gag and then climb into a thick latex bondage bag before she’ll enter the room.  Then she sits about three metres away, reading a magazine, occasionally mocking me or prodding the bag with a long stick.  So… no different from a session in normal times.  I’m lucky.

 


Actually, the police already know where he lives, because he’s the Chief Inspector.


Attention Trump voters

Yes, you.  There must be some that read this blog. According to Google (admittedly part of the tech libtard conspiracy, so who can believe their numbers, right, I mean they’ve got like percentages and everything and who can understand that?) many “readers” of this blog come from the US of A.  Most of those “readers”, I’m willing to bet, are male or at least notionally so.  Submissive males probably tend more toward the other political party, as its policies place more emphasis on caring and nurturing and rather less on “grabbing ’em by the pussy” than the current Republican leadership.  Nonetheless, statistically speaking, at least a few of you are likely be planning to vote for Trump, even though compared to many pornographic blogs out there, this one does occasionally use long words so you probably find it quite hard to understand sometimes.

So: this particular post is addressed to you.  Hi there!  This is for your attention, as likely Trump voters (where the word ‘attention’ basically means ‘lookit’ and ‘voting’ is the thing where morons like you, for reasons that must have made sense some time to someone, have a say in choosing who runs the most powerful country on Earth.)

Anyway, I myself have no stake in the presidential election, partly because I don’t really believe in males voting, but mainly because I’m not American. Yes, all this time you’ve been looking at sexy pictures and failing to get most of the jokes on a blog written by a durn furrener.  And you can’t even chant ‘Send him home!’ because I already am.  Sorry.

So it’s none of my business.  As it happens, my own political views lead me to be somewhat reluctant to support a candidate who endorses a platform of “grab ’em by the
pussy”, whose every former colleague calls him an idiot and a crook, who has been selling the country’s interests out to brutal dictators and through incompetence has caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of his fellow citizens while suggesting they inject bleach as a cure but that’s just me.  People are entitled to
their own political views, no matter how moronic and deluded they
are.  
  

And I suppose it would be constitutionally improper for me to seek unduly to influence anyone’s vote. So, without in any way making a party political point, I’ll just note that IF the Harris/Biden ticket wins today (or is declared to win later, not on the night itself, which is a perfectly normal outcome in elections in lots of countries and no reason to abandon 250 years of democratic principles and anyway what the hell is the deal with the TV networks being the ones who ‘call’ who has won before the votes are counted?) this blog will reward the American people by celebrating “Take the nuclear launch authorisation codes away from the orange-skinned narcissistic science-denying buffoon week”, with three extra captioned images every day, for your amusement.

Three a day for a week, Trump voters. Think of that. How many’s that in total, you ask? Well.. let’s just say it’s more than you have fingers and toes… unless you’re from some particularly in-bred rural community.  ‘Nuclear’ means the same as ‘nukillah’, by the way, it’s just the libtard way of spelling and pronouncing it.

But we don’t get to celebrate “Take the nuclear launch authorisation codes away from the orange-skinned narcissistic science-denying buffoon week” if he ‘wins’ re-election, do we?  No we don’t.  Glad we had this little chat.

I’m just, y’know, putting it out there for people to decide, as someone likes to say.

Anyway, here’s the usual stuff.

 

I suspect it’s his fault: he’s not trying hard enough. Perhaps she could help him focus.

 

 

 

Tell me what? What is the point of captions that don’t go anywhere?  Now I’ll be getting more complaints from anonymous commentators.

Sounds like Annie’s been very reasonable.  Which is odd, as she isn’t usually like that, especially where men are concerned.

You are going to be seeing quite a lot more of this goddess with the innocent wide eyes, as I’ve just found a web site devoted to images of her and given many of them the good hard captioning they deserve.


Notice how the caption delicately makes sure it is understood that this image involves neither incest nor under-age sex.  As they always will – if you see a captioned image here and think ‘OK, so that must be his daughter, right?’ you’ve mis-understood and it isn’t.



But they do it for our sakes, bless ’em.



Pictures of attractive young women saying vaguely threatening things

Just trying out a more literal approach to naming these posts.  I have to say, though, I reckon “Attractive young women saying vaguely threatening things” would make a great name for a band.


My muscles are relaxed.  The rest of me is suddenly feeling strangely tense.



Romantic moment ahead!  No spoilers, but let’s just say this turned out to be the turning point in their relationship.  This is when it became serious… really serious.


 

Don’t worry: she’ll make sure he drinks plenty of liquids too. 

 

 

 

Oh, OK.  Plenty of time then.  She’s not planning to turn it any further until after tea.

 

 

I don’t know about you but I just seem to be constantly charging appliances.  If it’s not the phone, it’s the shock collar, if it’s not the shock collar it’s the cattle prod.  I’m sure life was simpler in the old days.  Even on our wedding night… turned out I was supposed to have charged up her vibrator.  She wasn’t pleased, I can tell you.