prison – Page 6 – Contemplating the divine

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.

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.

Don’t question why she needs to be so free

…she’ll tell you it’s the only way to be.

Dinner parties can be such hell, can’t they?

Seems fair.

This is the lovely Mina Thorne, in a very fine video for Men Are Slaves (well of course they are)

Hmm. Maybe there’s some hidden food and when I find it I’ll also find a way to kill the cockroaches? No, that’s not it…

You’ll feel a lot better once you know you have no secrets from her. Well – when the welts have died down, anyway.

If you look very carefully, you can just see one of his toes poking out, I reckon. He’ll get in trouble for that if she finds out,though, so keep it to yourself, OK?

You can get more with a kind word and a whip…

… than you can with just a kind word.

These ladies know that.

Disappointed? Well.. maybe a little.

He can continue to explore his interest in blow jobs too, I understand.

Enjoy. Only 25 seconds now…

Woof.

I’ll confess, I don’t often last the full twenty seconds. But she’s not one of those women who minds if her man comes very quickly.

Helplessly devoted

Oh relax! Look if George is hetero too, then it’s not like you’re going to be having gay sex anyway, is it? I mean, who’s going to make you do it?

The offence? Oh – unauthorised erection, I think. Now just watch the caning very carefully and try not to let it happen again, OK?

Could get expensive.

Well I think it’s rather sweet.

Men can be so obsessive about these little things.

Rentrée

Literally, a re-entering, so obviously it’s not to be taken literally in my case. But here we are, back again.

Same old, same old.

But more so.

If you know what I mean.

Update: thank you all for the kind comments, while I was away. Sorry I didn’t respond at the time, but if you check back you should find that I have now.

…and while I was away, this blog went over 3 million page hits/views whatever it is! Many of them by automated search bots no doubt, others perhaps by worthless little pathetic worms of no importance or interest to anyone whatsoever (if you’re wondering whether you’re one of them, then you probably are, like me), but even so it’s a nice big number. Thank you all.

Update again. Don’t you just love the horse picture? Not the caption, necessarily. Just the picture. Isn’t it great?

It’s a bit unfair, really. I mean he makes as much noise as he likes. Doesn’t get the fucking sjambok, either. Why do we put up with this sort of thing?

Tawse ready and waiting for naughty boys

I’ve been caught shopkeeping eleven times, now. Oh dear… am I out of butter again? Off to the shops…

Femdom wife humiliation and enslavement oh my

He’s taking a subtle revenge for the lifetime of humiliation and suffering she imposed, though. He’s over-salted the popcorn. Only slightly – but enough to notice, you know? Haha!

You know, people can often behave very differently at home and at work. Although actually, she doesn’t.

I love this picture. I quite like my caption to it, too.

A bonus one, because I am by no means sure this one is actually femdom.

Good news bad news

Now, my dear prisoner, I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?

The bad news? Yes, I suppose that’s a good idea. Hear that first, to get it over with.

Well, the bad news is that the rest of your life is going to be spent down here, and it is going to be utterly miserable. Your hands will stay cuffed behind your back like that forever, and the hobble chain between your ankles isn’t going away either. You won’t be able to stand up, or even crawl, but you should be able slowly to wriggle around, like a maggot, to get across this cold stone floor. You can scream and shout if you like. No one will hear you. Not even me, and there’s no one else for miles around.

There’s more bad news too. In a moment I’ll be leaving, and I’m going to switch off the light and close the door. So it’ll be pitch dark down here – you’re now in the last few moments of light that you’ll ever experience.

That’s right – look at me. This is the last time you’ll ever see anything. Remember me.

More bad news, I’m afraid. You’re going to die down here. But not immediately. There’s plenty of water and I’ve left some piles of food around. Some of the food’s fresh, so if you can find it, as you inch around in the dark, I’d eat that first, as otherwise it’s going to start rotting. But there’s quite a lot of dry food that should be edible for a few months.

But then that’s it. One day, you’ll be painfully wriggling across the floor in the dark; sniffing and licking wherever you go to try to find more food, and there just won’t be any left. But of course, you’ll never be sure that you’ve found it all, so you’ll probably keep trying, as you get weaker, hopelessly dragging yourself back and forth trying everywhere in this pitch black cellar, until you starve to death – alone, in the dark, with no one to care.

So that’s the bad news.

The good news? Oh – erm, yes, now there was some good news. What was it? Goodness, it’s completely slipped my mind. Oh I don’t suppose it matters. Whatever it was, I’m sure it didn’t really concern you anyway.

Goodbye.

The lady in the pictures is Stella van Gent.

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?

You’ll always find me in the corner at parties

Yeah. I was always one of those guys in the corner at parties. You know? Just standing there, all embarassed, not knowing what to say as the laughter and flirting went on all around me?

My nose pressed tightly against the angle of the walls, and my trousers down around my ankles exposing my red, spanked buttocks for all to see.

I guess we’ve all been there, huh?

It’s good to have a job doing something you love. In my job, for example, I’m bossed around, humiliated and made miserable almost every day. Mmmm.

Ooops! Don’t forget about consent, girls! When you’re finishing, ask him if he agrees he deserved it. It’s important.

Well, if you put it like that…

Office life… it can be so stressful, can’t it?

Sadly, though, the inside looks pretty grotty, too. Unless you like gloomy dungeons walled with unfinished concrete and festooned with rusting chains.
Oh do you? Oh, right. You’re in for a treat, then.