Oh hi! You’re Paul, right? From IT? I’m Jane. I guess I’m the “boss” in this part of the company! Oh, but just call me Jane – we’re very informal around here!
Look – we’re really grateful that you’ve come to help us out, OK? I mean I know you’re all so busy down there, with that…computer stuff. Fixing things… brilliant!
But we’ve got such an important meeting tomorrow – really important clients, right? – and I saw you give that presentation in Head Office last month and I just knew you’d be perfect for it! So I asked Karen, and –
Which one? Do you give a lot of presentations? Oh! Well, you have to send me invites to them. I only saw the one – but you were great. It was the one about computers. Something about a… network, was it? It was brilliant, anyway! And I just thought – that’s what we need for next Wednesday! The clients will love it. And Wednesday’s tomorrow now… and here you are! Brilliant!
Hmmm? Yes, yes that topic would be fine. Computers…networks…all that. They’re very interested in that stuff. They’ve got lots of computers. I mean, it’s a bank so they’re bound to, aren’t they?
Oh! One little thing. Silly really. Erm… you were wearing these, mmmm, white trousers? Not quite sure what sort…I’d recognise them again if I see them. They were…quite tight. Really tight actually! Anyway, I thought that was very effective. Really helped to…well, the audience could see you very clearly. I certainly could. Do you think you could, erm…wear them tomorrow? Hmm? That be OK?
No…not quite sure what brand they were. Do you have a lot of pairs of tight white trousers? Oh. Well, that’s good, isn’t it? Tell you what – bring all three pairs in tomorrow morning and we’ll see which works best, OK? Great! We can have a little fashion show! Right here.
Slides? What do you mean, slides? Oh PowerPoint slides! Yes, definitely. Got to have slides. PowerPoint’s brilliant, isn’t it? And then we can darken the rest of the room, so it’s like you’re just there in a spotlight…all in white.
No, I know. Not all in white. But the trousers are.
Oh…there was a little thing you did. At one point you dropped all your notes, and you sort of bent over and picked them up for a bit? And you looked kind of humiliated and embarassed as you did it? That was quite effective too, I thought. Really got the audience’s attention. Put them at ease… An accident? Was it really? Oh. Well, you know if you were to do it ‘by accident’ tomorrow, I’m sure the client would like it. Possibly several times.
Great. Well, I think we’re all set, then. The client arrives at about 4pm, and we’ll go straight into the meeting. No you don’t have to be there for that bit – that’s the serious business of the day. Then we’ll talk to her a bit about the joint venture (you don’t need to worry about all that – boring old financy things!) then when that’s all agreed we’ll have your presentation at the end of the afternoon! Deal all done, down go the lights, onto the stage goes Paul and it’s all about…internet protocols for the rest of the afternoon! Great!
Oh, is ‘internet protocols’ different from ‘networks’? OK, well either really. Gosh aren’t you clever – knowing about both!
Anyway, I expect we’ll all go off for a drink or something afterwards. You should come along. She’d like that.
Brilliant. Look – tell Karen I owe her one for this, all right?
Oh wow. You really call her “Miss Oldfield”? Oh, that is cute! Look – forget what I said about calling me Jane, OK? You can just call me Miss Summers tomorrow, OK? In front of the client. I’d like that. I’d really like that! Or…you could call me “Boss”.
Go on – just for me. Say “OK, boss!”
Brilliant!
Category: story
Love and marriage
Oh
yes, Iâd forgotten you havenât been here since I had that put in. Donât you recognise it? Itâs George â you know, my husband! Well, whatâs left of him.
yes, heâs still my husband. Weâre just
waiting for the divorce papers to come through.
Thatâs why I had him fixed there, to remind me.
It
is clever, isnât it? Yes, they were able
to amputate the arms and legs all the way up to the joints. Because I was afraid that theyâd leave little
stumps or something, and heâd be able to waggle them a bit. Wouldnât that be disgusting? But no, theyâve done it very neatly. Just a torso.
Perfect.
he canât move his neck either. The
doctors attached a steel bar running right down his spine, you see, and it goes
all the way into his skull. He canât
move nod or turn his head at all â not even a millimetre. And his jawâs wired up, of course. Sorry about the silly little grin, but they
needed to keep it a little open, for feeding purposes. But they removed his teeth and his tongue, of
course. And his vocal chords.
Hmmm? Oh trust you to notice that! Yes, I did decide to leave them on. Of course, I was really tempted to have him
castrated â they even said I could do it myself. But I thought it might be more fun if they
were still there, you know? I do enjoy
playing with them, after all. Itâs
amazing how well theyâve lasted really, after all Iâve done to them. They can take a lot more punishment than you
think, actually. Iâve even set them on
fire a few times, but there are still some nerve endings left. Look â Iâll show you. There!
See how his breathing gets much faster when I push this pin into
it? And then if I wiggle it about I â
yes, you see? Plenty of nerve endings
still.
Oh
yes, I donât think Iâll keep him much after the divorce papers come
through. Should be any day now. And then
maybe Iâll just stop feeding and watering him â and put him outside by the
trash. Unless youâd like toâŚ? No? I
just thought Iâd offer, seeing as the two of you were an item back in college,
thatâs all. No problem: Iâll deal with
it.
Yes,
he can still use his eyes. Apart from
his lungs, I suppose they’re the only other muscles he can still move. See â look at how heâs watching us? Oh â isnât that sweet? Heâs crying.
He seemed to have stopped doing that a few weeks back, but maybe seeing
you reminds him of his old life or something.
Maybe he thinks youâll save him?
Hard to know what heâs thinking really.
But I do like him still to be able to see me, so I know heâs thinking
about what Iâm doing to him. Iâll
probably put them out before I finally get rid of him, of course.
Oh
clever you! No, I suppose he doesnât
need both eyes. I hadnât thought of
that! Why donât we do one of them right
now? I donât suppose you have a
cigarette on you, do you? You do? Oh wonderful â thatâll be perfect. I gave up just over a year ago, you
know. But maybe I couldâŚI mean just one
wouldnât hurt, would it? And then maybe
we could both stub them out at the same time.
Shall we do the right or the left, do you think?
naughty girl! Oh never mind,
though. MmmmâŚ.lovely. Well, when I finish this one, Iâll stub it
out, and thatâll be that.
Itâs
funny, you know. He always disapproved
of my smoking. He was so pleased when I
gave up. Said watching me stub the last
one out was the best day of his life.
Didnât you, darling? Well, youâll
certainly be watching very closely when I stub this one out. Very closely indeed…
Story: the elves and the dominatrices
A story starring Mistress Valerie and her friend Sandra.
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| Mistress Valerie loved her job at the prison. But it tired her out. Bastinado sessions, for example, rarely lasted less than two hours and her arm would ache terribly afterwards. |
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| The ladies had everything they wanted – and more boys than they knew what to do with! |
Rewards and penalties
A silly humiliation story, written to amuse my Significant Other. Names have been changed to protect…well, me.
Servitor looked straight back into her eyes as he handed her the money.
The girl froze in the act of taking his money, carefully transferred it to the till and turned her whole body to face the next customer, without a word.
Servitor grabbed the coffee and almost ran from the coffee shop in horror, feeling the shocked and amused stares drilling into the back of his neck, his down-turned face burning with humiliation. He walked rapidly down the street, slowing to a normal pace only when he was almost half a mile away from the scene of the catastrophe.
What had he said? How was that possible? He felt sick and shaky. If he were still a drinker, he told himself, this would be a double vodka moment. As it was, he gratefully saw a Boots Chemists sign ahead and went in to buy some aspirin.
âDo you have a Boots advantage card?â the middle-aged lady at the check-out asked him.
âNo.â he heard himself say, with growing horror. âBut I do like to take advantage of my little cock by wanking until itâs sore.â
This time he didnât even pick up his purchase: as soon as the words were out of Servitorâs mouth, he was pushing past the stunned customers and heading straight for the door.
Out on the street, Servitor panicked. Loyalty card? As he thought that, the words âsweaty little cockâ jumped into his brain. Loyalty card. (âtiny prickâ). Something about those words, about saying loy-âŚthe L word. Or anything like it, remembering the Boots experience. (âFrequent flyerâ? âFrequently wank myself sillyâ). He mustnât even think it.
Where could he shop? He had to go places where they didnât have a loya- a – a programme for rewarding customers. There was a corner shop just ahead, and steeling his nerves, he went in and bought bread and a few tins of food. He marched up to the counter, heart thumping.
âFour-fiftyâ, the man behind the counter said, not looking at him. Servitor held out a fiver with shaking hands and clenched his teeth tight shut. The shopkeeper pulled at the note, and looked up in confusion as Servitorâs fingers held it tight.
He walked out in triumph. No mention ofâŚrebate programmesâŚand no problem. Well, he wouldnât starve.
The cab pulled up outside his house and the driver drew the little window back. âDo you need a receipt mate?â he called cheerily.
***
In a different town, in a different county, Mistress Valerie was tidying her toy cupboard. She picked up a box, rifled inside it and frowned.
called.
Ms Sandra leaned round the door. âMe?â She replied, innocently. âWhy would I do that?â
Story: love among the test tubes
Yes, it’s another Serena and Alice story. Heavy, non-consensual and utterly absurd throughout. If any of those three things bother you, go and be bothered somewhere else.
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| Science: it’s a girl thing. |
âAnd apparently in chemistry the situation is even worse!â Serena concluded. âOnly 23 percent! Itâs just ridiculous!â
Her friend Alice nodded silently. The low proportions of women taking science subjects at university had been much in the newspapers, of course, but to a dedicated scientist like Serena â who also had strong views on the question of sexual equality (she was opposed to it) â it was unbearable.
âWhat do you think the reason is?â Alice asked.
âWell, itâs the fault of men, obviously.â Serena replied, calming down a bit.
âObviously.â echoed Alice.
The two friends saw eye-to-eye on most things, but about men they were in particularly firm agreement. For Serenaâs birthday, Alice had bought her a t-shirt reading âMan-hating lesbian and proud of itâ, and sometimes the two went out wearing identical messages. But they werenât that sort of separatist dykes who wanted to live in an all-female world. No, both Alice and Serena thought that men were all right, in their proper place. And principally, that proper place was as unwilling test subjects for Serenaâs scientific experiments. Science, and especially the scholarly exploration of male degradation, humiliation and torture was Serenaâs passion*. Aliceâs passion was Serena, so she was a little less interested, but she did find it sexy when her lover made them do such funny things. Especially when they screamed, or begged. Or bits came off.
âItâs the male teachers in schoolsâ Serena complained. âThey make it much too boring! Itâs all blackboards and formulae, and carefully measuring the volume of the precipitate.â
âI used to hate science at schoolâ Alice agreed. âI had this horrible teacher, Mr Greystoke, who just used to drone on and on â we never understood a thing and I think he just didnât care. I just thought science was boring.â
She caught sight of her friendâs shocked expression.
âWell, I donât think that now, of course! You make science fun. I love it when you do your experiments. I wish school science could be like that.â
Serenaâs face suddenly lit up, in the way it always did when she had had a brilliant idea. The slave males standing patiently against the wall recognised the expression, knew its consequences and flinched in fear.
âWhat is it?â Alice asked with interest. âHave you thought of a new experiment?â
Serena shook her head slowly, smiling.
âNo.â she said. âNo, just maybe the beginnings of an idea. Never mind â Iâll think a bit more and tell you about it when itâs ready.â
Alice tried to hide her disappointment, but as usual her friend could tell.
Serna leaned forward, smiling broadly.
âTell you whatâ she remarked. âIs that crap science teacher of yours still at the school?â
âNoâ Alice replied, shaking her head. âHe retired last year. I donât know where he is now.â
âShameâ Serena said. âWould you like to pretend one of these creatures here is him? Iâve got a school cane.â
Two months later, Alice was back in her friendâs living room, sipping a gin and tonic and admiring the view, as a young man writhed in agony on the wall in front of her.
The man sheâd chosen to play-act her hated science teacher had been old and rather frail, so the ladies had had to go very easy on him. Even so, he had lasted no more than six days, before the kindly fates granted him that blessed release from his agonies for which he had been begging since his first day in captivity. So now, Serena was repeating exactly the same course of treatment, multiplied up, on a young, fitter man (who had once delivered a pizza to their door, 30 seconds later than had been promised, and had been regretting it ever since). This was real science, Alice thought happily â every whiplash perfectly calibrated, and recorded for the edification of future generations. She was so proud to have a proper scientist as her lover.
âNever mind himâ Serena commanded, sweeping into the room. âLook what Iâve got.â
She held up a memory stick.
âOooh!â squealed Alice in excitement. âDid you get the soul-catcher to work?â
This had been on Serenaâs âto doâ list for ages. Record menâs experiences in perfect detail onto a computer storage device (the technology for recording the more complex sensations and thoughts of the superior sex would not be ready for decades, but computers were finally becoming powerful enough to be as complex as simple life forms like worms, cockroaches and men).
The benefits that such a technology could bring the world were almost infinite. Imagine if you could record a man being tortured to death, over the course of two days for example. Sure, heâs suffered for two days but then what? If you could record the experience – every burn, every shrieking nerve, every cut and bruise and finally fatal injury â then you could replay it, over and over again, inflicting multiples of the same agony on a subject who would survive the experience, only to face it from the very start all over again. Imagine explaining to a slave on the torture table, that not only were you about to do this and then afterwards, when the screaming had abated, you would do that â but that his experience would be recorded and he could scream again for this and shriek in terror at the prospect of that â all at the touch of a replay button.
The soulcatcher, Alice thought, would surely win her lover the Nobel Prize that had always cruelly been denied her (by men she thought, viciously).
âErrrâŚnoâ Serena said. âNo, Iâm still having trouble with that. No, this is a video.â
âOhâ Alice replied, rather deflated. âGood video?â
âItâs a wonderful video!â Serena replied excitedly. âAn educational video.â
âOhâ Alice said again. âEducational. How nice.â
âScience education!â Serena said, exasperated. âYou remember â we talked about it? About how itâs all so boring and dry. Well now itâs not. Iâve made this!â
âOhâ Alice said, and realised she really ought to say something a bit more intelligent (although to be honest, her friend loved her precisely because she was a little dim by female standards. So does the author, as without Aliceâs constant questions, how would anything be explained?).
âSo youâve recorded some of your experiments â to show them what fun it can be?â and she nodded at the man writhing on the wall, who seemed to be about to lose his battle to hold himself up with his arms, with consequences that he knew full well would be horrifically painful.
âNo, noâ Serena said in irritation. âThatâs too advanced. They wouldnât be able to connect it to what they learn about. No â Iâve recorded a teaching video demonstrating ordinary school science experiments. But my way. Do you want to see?â
âOKâ said Alice, doubtfully, and her friend loaded the software onto a laptop, which projected onto a big flat screen TV on the far side of the room, suspended from four tightly-bound slaves.
âWhat do you want first?â Serena asked happily â pointing at the menu. âChemistry?â
âSâpose soâ Alice replied, moodily. âMr mind-if-I-bore-you-to-tears Greystoke, eat your heart out.â
âRight thenâ Serena said, with a smile, as if she had secrets even deeper than usual. âChemistry it is. Here we goâ
And she selected chemistry on the menu, and the video started.
The first scene was a close-up of a naked young man rather uncomfortably squashed up behind a glass screen. But as the camera pulled back, Alice gasped as she realised that the glass was curved, and was in fact the side of an enormous test-tube. The man was curled up in the bottom of it, and did not look too happy about it.
âSoâ Serena said, in a rather formal voice. âHere we have a material, and we are about to test some of its properties through experiment.â
âMaterial?â Alice asked, perfectly in character even at this exciting bit of the story, when the author has to type fast.
âThe boyâ Serena replied absently. âWeâre going to investigate its properties.â
âOKâ Alice smiled. âSo how do we do that?â
âOh, lots of ways!â her friend laughed. âLetâs start with some chemical reagents. She pressed a button.â
Serena herself now appeared on the screen, wearing a lab coat with safety goggles and carrying a clipboard.
âAcid reagents oxidise materials, and we can learn useful things about the properties of the material on which they act, by analysing the resulting gasesâ she said, in a sing-song voice, speaking rather woodenly to camera.
She pulled her goggles over her eyes, picked up a bucket marked âHNO3â and carefully climbed a ladder standing next to the giant test tube. While she did this a voice-over prattled on about the properties of acids, while information also scrolled confusingly across the bottom of the screen. The boy, it seemed, knew some basic science, because he was scrabbling frantically at the side of the test tube while this was going on, despairingly clawing at the smooth, high sides.
âand add the reagent to the material under study.â The voiceover concluded, and Serena carefully tipped the bucket of acid into the giant tube.
The two ladies watched in silence.
âWell.â Alice remarked, when all was quiet again and the test tube seemed only to contain a featureless sludge. âThat was very educational.â
âReally?â her friend asked eagerly, her face aglow. âWhat did you learn.â
âOhâ Alice replied (for what was now the fourth time).
âWell, you know. Acid, boys. All that.â She gestured at the screen. âThey, erm, well they melt. And itâs such fun as they do it! Oh and they burn at first. Burn and melt. Funny.â
Serena pursed her lips. âYes. Well there was a bit more than that. But I suppose itâs a start. Now, after this thereâs a ten minute section in which we analyse the gases that were emitted when we reacted the acid with the boy and â â
She caught sight of her friendâs face, which had assumed a look of panic.
â â but weâll skip that bit for now, and go on to another experiment.â she concluded, weakly, and called the chemistry sub-menu back.
Over the next fifteen minutes, Alice learned all about the chemical properties of young men and how to investigate them.
- How they reacted with alkalis
- What happened if they were subjected to heat
- The effects of removing oxygen, or of adding chlorine
- Practical tips, such as how to grind them in a mortar and pestle, and the effects of keeping them under oil.
âGoodnessâ she said at the end of it all. âI never knew chemistry could be so very interesting. And I always thought they were made of slugs and snails and puppy-dog tails.â
âYes, thatâs just a mythâ Serena replied absently, pointing at the latest sticky mess displayed on the screen. âComplex hydrocarbons mostly.â
âBut if you fed them only on slugs and snails â â Alice began, and Serena â desperate to avoid what she thought might be a demonstration of appalling scientific ignorance by her friend – quickly switched to the physics lesson.
Alice found this even more interesting. There were a lot of different kinds of physics, it seemed, and all of it could be demonstrated by experiments with boys.
Some of the sections introduced more than one physical principle at a time. For example, one long segment dealt both with the effects of increasing weight, in a gravitational field, and also the tensile strength of various bits of a boyâs body. Ultimately, gravity always won, and the segment concluded with a delightful little speculation on how much more weight you would need to attach to a boyâs delicate bits to overcome their tensile strength, on the moon.
âIn space no one can hear you scream!â Alice giggled, but her friend, deep in thought, just replied absently âYes, thatâs a downside of conducting experiments off-planet, of course.â
Then there was a segment on electricity, with a particular focus on how well it was conducted across boysâ bodies, or bits of boysâ bodies. Alice was actually already fairly familiar with most of this, but it was good to see it done in such a well-structured way, with steadily increasing voltages compared across different distances at which the electrodes were set, complex instruments measuring the current flow that could only be determined approximately from the intensity of the screams.
Then there were more physical experiments: what happens when a boy is accelerated to 70mph and then encounters a fixed object, different heights to which men could be propelled from the baskets of catapults, and an experiment to demonstrate that a heavy pendulum attached to a manâs testicles and set swinging would gradually trace out a circle over 24 hours (time-lapse photography was used here of course, as the boredom of watching the whole thing would be unbearable).
âAnd thatâs how we know the world turns!â Serena said, triumphantly.
âAll from a set of well-tugged ballsâ Alice breathed in wonder. Her friend relaxed, as she could see that her educational materials were truly starting to engage someone she would readily admit to herself was rather a challenging first audience.
Aliceâs favourite experiment was actually a classic. Two men, one old and fat, one young and thin, stood on top of a tower, with Serena standing behind them, while the voiceover droned on about Galileo. What happened next amazed her.
âBut surely the fat one should have hit the ground first!â she protested. âI mean, heâs heavier.â
âThatâs a common misconceptionâ Serena smiled. âBut look â you can disprove it yourself by simple experimentâ and she nodded at the screen.
âIâll have to try itâ, Alice remarked, thoughtfully. âMaybe we could use the multi-storey car parkâŚOf course, weâd have to make sure somehow that both were pushed off at exactly the same time⌠and weâd have to decide whether itâs the first bit hitting or when the whole body has gone splat that counts as hitting the ground, so maybeâŚâ
Serena basked in satisfaction. Her friend had not only understood gravity, but sheâd learnt the much more important lesson â the scientific method.
âYou see â she murmured lovingly. âItâs not just about learning stuff. Itâs about finding out. Never take anything on trust.â
âBut I trust thatâ Alice said, nodding at the screen. âAnd I trust youâ she added, looking adoringly at her friend.
âAnd thatâs wonderfulâ Serena replied, giving her a little squeeze. âBut you see â everything I did there is reproducible, some of them with just ordinary household objects, so anyone can do the experiment at home, or in the classroom.â
âIn mixed schools, theyâve even got the boys to try it out on!â Alice agreed.
âAnd the teachersâ Serena said slyly â and pointed to the screen.
Alice looked and gasped with the shock of recognition. There on screen, suspended by his wrists and twisting ineffectually, was her old science teacher, Mr Greystoke. His eyes looked pleadingly into the camera.
âOooohâ she breathed. âYou found him. Clever, clever you. Is this going to be chemistry or physics?â
âNeitherâ, her friend laughed. âThis is part of the biology course. See?â
And when she pressed the button, a door opened above Mr Greystokeâs head, and almost immediately, little dark shapes appeared, their antennae twitching as they sensed the food source ahead of them. Slowly, like a dribble of treacle, a dark tongue of scuttling figures seemed to reach slowly down to Aliceâs old teacher, who was screaming hysterically.
âIt can take up to 24 hours for them to strip the body completelyâ Serena remarked. âShall we watch it on time lapse?â
âWellâŚâ her friend replied slowly. âIâm not in any hurry. And Iâm really interested in following this experiment carefully. Shall we justâŚleave it on⌠in the background?â
âIn the background? While we do what?â smiled Serena back, gazing happily in to her eyes.
âOh come here, you scientific genius youâ Alice chuckled. âIâm teaching this biology lesson.â
And as their lips met in a loving embrace, Alice glanced at the screen on the wall. Theyâd just reached his eyes, she noticed, and feeling a surge of excitement she urgently reached out for the warmth and joy of her loverâs touch.
Very short femdom story: Burial plot
house any more?â, Amelia said, sympathetically.
âAfter nine years of marriage itâs⌠well, itâs â â
hers.
I went through it with Colin too.
No matter how prepared you are, it feels so odd, with the house empty. But you know, in the long run itâs best. He was in so much pain in the last few years
â and now you can get on with your life.â
âIt was just â seeing him being buried at the weekend. I thought Iâd be ready. But it wasnât easy.â
âWould you like to see where heâs buried? I visit every day, you know.â
Iâd like that.â
earth made it obvious where Markâs final resting place was to be found.
âThatâs his breathing tube, you see.
The blue one. Then the green one
is for feeding and water. Iâve been feeding him every day, you know. Well â except Tuesday. It was raining too hard.â
to take the time any more, and I expect youâll install a feeding tank. I only have to fill mine once a month now,
and thatâs for both of them.â
two little tubes sticking out of the ground.
A blade of grass growing near the mouth of the blue one quivered from
time to time, as Markâs breathing disturbed the air.
âI made sure of that. By the end, he could barely scream any more.â
reassuringly. âYouâll always have those
memories. Letâs go and have a cup of tea, and you can try out the new boy.â
house, leaving Mark to rest forever in peace.
Femdom story: Code-talkers
Just another little tale I tossed off, if you’ll excuse the phrase. Don’t read if you’re offended by silliness.
at Jerryâs wedding?â
Donât you remember? Mark had
messed up that business with the plumbing, and we had a flooded cellar. We had to stay at home to get it sorted out â
I emailed you all about it.â
and she broke off, glancing nervously at the
third member of their party, their aged Great Aunt Maggie, who was sitting
bright-eyed between the two of them, nodding happily.
have had a few stern, errr, words
with Mark after that one.â
grimly. âLots of words â three dozen that first time around, and then another
session a week later when the plumberâs bill arrived.â
enquired casually. âWhen you last
emailed me, you said he was playing, errr, playing âgolfâ rather too often and
you were thinking of putting a stop to it.â
any more. Well…only when I say
so. Iâve got his âclubsâ all locked
away, safe and sound.â
occasionally?â
practice, you know. Iâve heard that
âgolf ballsâ have to be used every month or so, otherwise they can get damaged.â
myself!â Great-Aunt Maggie burst in unexpectedly. âJust grown-ups playing marbles if you ask
me. And snooker â thatâs just as
bad. Tennis. I used to like watching tennis.â
encouragingly. âDid you watch Wimbledon
this year?â
puzzled. âIâm not sure, dear.â She
replied. âWas that nice Mr Borg
playing? Iâm sure he won something,
didnât he?â
been a year or two earlier, Magsâ Emily said, uncertainly and the three sat in
silence for while.
prompted, after a while. âI expect you
still keep his âgolf clubsâ locked away, mmm?
With spikes, if I remember rightly.â
have told you about it?â
Maggie butted in, apparently pleased to be on her home turf of ailments and
remedies.
and she caught her cousinâs eye – âto have his âtonsilsâ taken out.â
replied. âMuch better off without them.â
any more.â
operation?â, Alison asked with interest, as she had been thinking about arranging
for Mark to have his âtonsilsâ removed too.
breathlessly. âIt was great! They strapped him dow â I mean, they bandaged
him up tightly, and then they let me watch as they removed each of them in
turn. They even let me do the final
little snip. Gosh, it was so
exciting! I had a â errr â hot flush right there in the operating
theatre!â
Alison asked, beginning to feel the stirrings of a âhot flushâ herself, and
wondering whether Great-Aunt Mags would mind if the two excused themselves and
went upstairs to visit their old bedrooms.
you donât want itâ her cousin replied, giggling. âHe made quite a fuss, especially just before
the first âtonsilâ came off â I mean, âoutâ.â
tonsils afterwardsâ she added, casually.
âTheyâre in a little jar in my bedside drawer.â
breathed. âSo is David much more obedi â
I mean, is he a bit more co-operative now?â
every time. And he also – â
that!â Great-Aunt Maggie broke in.
place clean. Cos before that weâd just
had gas, and that wasnât the same, not at all.
Your Great Uncle Bert liked the gas, but I said, âno â weâre moving with
the times, Bert, weâre going electric.â
Alison, indulgently.
electric installed, I said âRight Bert, this is how itâs going to be from now
on. This is the future, this is.â And he
didnât know the first thing about it! He
said, whatâs it do then, Mags? Thatâs
what he said.â
then, Mags?â
technical, wasnât Bert. So I showed
him! I plugged a cable into that socket
â we only had the one socket when we first got the electric put in â and I
attached one wire to the tip of his willy, using a hairclip, and shoved the
other up his arse and switched it on! Oooh,
he found out what it did then! You
should have seen him jumping about screaming âSwitch it off, Mistress, Iâll be
good Mistress!â Never had a momentâs
trouble from him after that â housework all done, all my meals served in bed
and a lovely bit of oral every Sunday morning before church. Oh â and when we needed a bit of extra money,
to buy a telly for the coronation, it just took one little dose of the electric
and he was off giving hand jobs to demobbed soldiers for two bob a time, just
to get a bit of extra money in.“
used to scare the willies out of him, the electric, old Bert! Even worse than
the birch. He used to say âOh please Mistress, give me two dozen with the
birch instead! Anything but the
electric, Mistress!â âCourse, I always
gave him double voltage when he tried to argue like that! And Iâd sit on his
face while he was taking it, too!
Lovely, that was. Dear me. Happy days.â
contemplation of times past, as her two great-nieces sat in shocked silence.
oral, dears, Iâve got a lovely 24 year-old strapped to my bed upstairs â
Polish, or Czechyslovenian or one of those places. Doesnât speak a word of English, but he goes
like a train and he knows what to do with his tongue when you take a flogger to
him. And Iâve got a brand-new strap-on
thatâs going to make him squeal a bit too!
So Iâll leave you young people to natter about your golf and tonsils,
and Iâll take myself off for an early night and a good hard fuck. See you in the morning, dears.â
Femdom story: Locked
Well, I’ll bet no one has ever written a femdom story with that title before! Anyway, here’s my take on it.
Locked
Mrs Taylor?â the doctor asked, stepping quickly to the side of the tall blonde
lady standing over the hospital bed.
Janet nodded dumbly.
âYesâŚyes. Iâm
fine. Itâs just a bit of a shock, thatâs
all. Seeing him â like this. I mean, itâs just as you described it, of
course. But somehow itâs different
seeing it for real.â
quite some getting used toâ, she said.
âBut heâs still in there. Itâs
still your husband.â
âYes, itâs still my Alan in there.
But he canât move a muscle?â
âHis internal muscles like the heart are all in good working order. And look â you see? â he can still blink his
eyes. Thatâll make it a lot easier to
look after him â no need for eyedroppers to keep the eyeballs moist, you
see. But otherwise, no muscular control
at all. Yet he can feel everything.â
fingertips up the inner thigh of her immobilised husband. âAnd he can see as well?â
âAlthough of course he canât control what heâs actually looking at. But you can move the eyeballs â no, here, let
me do it. Itâs best to wear gloves.â
flicked each eyeball round so that Alan was staring right at his wife. The effect was a little uncanny, but Janet
forced herself to smile.
pinching a small roll of Alanâs flesh between her fingers. Steadily she compressed it, letting her
elegant nails dig deeply into the flesh.
She watched the tiny buds of blood appear as she gently sawed her nails
from side to side, and smiled again in satisfaction.
murmured, and put her hand to her mouth to taste the blood.
shrugged. âEverythingâs fine; heâs fully
recovered from the operation. Those
marks on his wrists and ankles will go away in a few days. Theyâre just from where he was struggling
when he was restrained.â
âIt seems so strange now, seeing him so silent and peaceful like
this. The last time I saw him he was
thrashing about and screaming and begging so franticallyâŚitâs a good thing he
was so firmly tied down.â
told what the operation is really forâ the doctor replied. âI
used to prefer them to be anaesthetised, but Iâm quite used to it now. As long as the head and upper body are held
quite firmly, I can operate no matter how much of a fuss theyâre making.â
eyes now looking away from them, and showed Janet a small, neat scar on the
back of his head, just above the neck.
whole body, and that was pretty straightforward, just a quick cut through the
spinal cord and itâs done. But tailoring
it so that he can still feel, is very delicate work â and leaving the eyelids
operational is a skilled job. It took
over four hours for the whole thing, and he was conscious all the time. Nowadays I rather enjoy the screaming and
pleading, so I leave those nerves until last.â
do you?â Janet enquired.
It was mostly just pitiful pleading at that point. âPlease donât do
this. Oh please, please. For pityâs sake.â That kind of thing. Is it important?â
âI just wondered.â
the doctor remarked. âWe have to tie all
the cut ends up neatly, so we could reattach them if need be. Are you likely to want to bring him back?â
listening to this Alan? â what I thought I might do, is roll two dice every
year, on the anniversary of the operation. If he gets a double six, I promise
Iâll bring him back and he can be fully restored. For a month.
Then Iâll put him back like this.â
able to move and speak again. A one in
36 chance each time.â
that it wonât be forever. Itâll make the
misery of his existence just that bit harder to bear.â
to wait for the dice. If I chose to, I
could let him out at any time!â
the doctor smiled back. âBut it must be nice to have that control.â
husbandâs head back again so that he was staring at them. His eyes started blinking furiously.
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| Now this next bit won’t hurt…it’s the bit after that hurts. |
Naughty words
Just a brief, non-image post today, because –
OK, OK maybe just one image to make the links columns more attractive, here you are:
Wow, it just kept getting bigger…and longer…
So…this started out as a caption. But somehow it grew and grew.
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| Unsatisfied with your performance, by the look of it |
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| Plenty of motivation here |
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| Janine. Isn’t she sweet? |

















