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




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.
 
 

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.”

I stand corrected

Frequently.  But not as frequently as I’d like.

Well, lookie here.  It’s more of those captioned images of female domination.



Ahh…Madame Sarka, formerly of OWK.  Icy.  Powerful.  Sexy.  Raises traffic here by about 20% every time I put up a picture of Her.




Remember what happened on Tuesday?  You will.



Actually, some women do prefer bigger penises.  In fact, I knew one who had quite a collection, all arranged neatly in order of size in a drawer in her bedroom.  Every one told a story, she used to say.  It’s good to have a hobby.



It’s not such an unfit lifestyle, though.  She likes him to go jogging in the mornings, too: out of the house, down the lane, across the six-lane motorway, over the high speed railway line and back, three times before breakfast.



Some people have a natural authority.  You can tell just from one look that she has it, can’t you?
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