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 –

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.

Bah, humbug

Mistress Valerie stars in a Christmas Movie

We begin by meeting Edmund Scrooge, a brash,
charmless, sexist 30-something yuppie in charge of a team of female office
workers.  We see him throwing his weight
around, making sexist comments and denying them any time off at Christmas
(“Unless you want to come round and cook my turkey, girls!”). 
Off he goes, bragging loudly on his mobile
about (quite imaginary) sexual conquests at work, before going down the pub
with his equally obnoxious mates to try out cheesy chat-up lines on
uninterested women.  He returns
(unsuccessful, of course, and drunk) to his bachelor pad, watches a porn video
and has a wank, before crashing out on the couch.


But this Christmas is different.  The ghost of his old drinking partner Joseph
Marley appears in the bachelor pad in the middle of the night, and what a
change from when Scrooge knew him!  He
clanks as he moves; heavy steel chains connecting shackles around his wrists
to the heavy steel collar around his neck, and trailing down from a heavy belt
around his waist to steel shackles around his ankles.  As he shambles forward we see a chastity belt
clamped firmly on his genitals and above his well-striped buttocks we see a
tattoo reading “Property of Mistress Valerie. 
Not to be removed without 
permission.” 
Marley has learnt
from Mistress Valerie the errors of his male chauvinist past – and he is here
with an awful warning for Scrooge to mend his ways!  Three spirits will help him in this task.


We begin with Mistress Valerie of Christmas past.  We see Scrooge, as the adult he is today but
in his childhood clothes, opening his presents on Christmas morning.  He has many but is dissatisfied and complains,
as each gift fails to meet his expectations. 
But then his weary parents fade from view, and Governess Valerie
appears: to show him what might have been had his upbringing been
stricter.  Each present is wrapped again,
and the tawse applied to his hands each time. 
He unwraps each again in turn,, with appropriately polite cries of
delight – and rewrapping each again for a dose of the tawse if  Governess Valerie deems his response too
churlish.  So it goes through the
day.  He gets the strap for not eating up
his sprouts, his knuckles are repeatedly rapped for cheating at Monopoly and
eventually Governess Valerie has had enough and administers a vigorous caning
before the boy is sent to bed.  Back in
the present day …Scrooge wakes up howling on the couch, his hands feel his bottom
incredulously, and he makes his way painfully to work.
 
 


The next night, it is the turn of Mistress Valerie of
Christmas present.  Here we see Scrooge
in the only place he is fit to encounter a lady: tied to the cross in Mistress Valerie’s
dungeon.  She enters, a classic
dominatrix, dressed in PVC.  She
introduces him to all of the modern techniques of punishment: electro play,
bondage and suspension, nipple clamps and flogging.  He is forced to lick clean Her boots, is tied
to act as an ashtray and is fed dog food. 
His genitals are tied, clamped, whipped and then shocked repeatedly with
an insect zapper.  Finally, he is wired
up to Mistress Valerie’s motion-sensitive e-stim and flogged with a long
leather whip, the motion detector clamped firmly between his teeth.  …Back in the present day, Scrooge at work has
his head down, not making eye contact with any of his staff, and he
involuntarily cringes as his secretary leans over the printer and innocently
asks “Shall I switch it on?”

 
 

On the third night, we meet Mistress Valerie of Christmas
yet to come.  Scrooge is an old man now,
gaunt and tired.  We see him in an apron
and nothing else, doing dishes and other chores around a kitchen.  We see his buttocks, striped and ridged after
what must have been decades of punishment. 
From the steel chastity belt around his waist, hangs a slightly rusty
padlock.  A handbell tinkles and he
hurries as well as his old bones can carry him to the living room, where
Mistress Valerie, eternally youthful, indicates his duties with a languid
finger.  It is obvious that his servitude
has been so long and so repetitive that no words need any longer be
spoken.  Mistress Valerie’s friends are
around for Christmas day, and we see them opening presents and laughing.  Some slaves are present, young fit and
obviously happy to be fulfilling their fantasies.  But Scrooge moves around silently performing
his chores, his face blank.  He carries
out his chores efficiently, obviously well schooled in his tasks and is at no
stage acknowledged by any of the party. 
Finally Mistress Valerie beckons him over, says “50” and hands him a
whip, without looking up.  We see him
retreat to a bare room and, alone, begin to lash his buttocks.  Fade out.

We fade back in again to see Mistress Valerie of Christmas
yet to come alone, surrounded by post-Christmas mess.  She is on the phone and saying “Yes, I’m
going to need a new slave.  I had that
last one for thirty-two years, but I suppose nothing lasts for ever“, and the
camera pulls back to reveal a pile of stuffed rubbish bags outside the front
door waiting to be collected.  One is in
the shape of a kneeling human form…

Back in the present, Scrooge wakes up in a cold sweat.  We see him heading out the door in a frantic
rush, and stopping off at a little shop in Soho on his way in to work.  In the office, to the ladies’ puzzlement,
there are presents for all: each receives a pair of new shoes and an implement:
paddles, canes, straps and whips. 
Scrooge explains that he has seen the error of his ways, and begs them
for some ‘performance management’.  The
ladies tuck into mince pies and chat delightedly, as, one by one, they recall
their boss’s most unpleasant habits, and exact a much-needed revenge. 

The camera pulls back from this scene of
Christmas cheer, the giggles and howls fading out, and we see Mistress Valerie,
watching approvingly from afar, a smile on Her face and a whip in Her hand…

 

 

This is one of the very first femdom stories I ever wrote.  I started because the first domme I ever had the pleasure of visiting – a lovely lady, thinly disguised as Mistress Valerie in these early tales – commanded me to write first of all an account of my sessions and then (when that became tedious and repetitive) stories.  I think my writing style has changed… not necessarily for the better.  Anyway, an icy blast from the past, there so wrap up warm.
 
Oh – and here’s an unrelated photo, too.  And a Merry Christmas to one and all!
 
She knows if you’ve been bad or good…
 

The price of selfishness


Well, maybe I didn’t want you to clean the kitchen, did you
think about that?

If you’re left without orders all day, you should just stand
in the corner waiting, shouldn’t you?  I
was only out for eight hours. 

We can’t have you deciding to do things by yourself, just
because you think they might please me. 
Can we?

Can we?

That’s right.

That’s why we decided you wouldn’t have any money any more,
isn’t it?  Because you were spending it
all on silly presents for me.  It’s so
much better now I can buy things I want.

You can say ‘Yes Maria’ at this point.

I’m not going to have this sort of selfish and
self-indulgent behaviour any more.  It’s
not your place to decide for yourself how to please me, is it?

No.

 
Now on this occasion, it’s just possible that I forgot to
tell you to clean the kitchen, and I did want it done.  But that’s not the point.  So now I want you to spend the next hour or
so rubbing dirt from the rubbish bin all over the floor, and letting some old
food congeal on the plates.  Then you can
clean it again overnight.

Say thank you, Maria!

That’s better.

Taking his name


Oh – there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, about
the wedding.  You see,  Alan and I have agreed that I’ll take his
surname, when I’m his wife.  So your
brand will be wrong – I’ll be EMR, not EMW. 
We’re going to have you have you branded again.

Yes, I know.  If it’s
any consolation, I think it’s a bit unnecessary too.  When I told Alan your branded initials would
be wrong, I was really just making a light-hearted comment.  I didn’t think he’d insist on changing
them.  But you know what he’s like.

Hmm?

Yes, that’s the problem. 
I mean, you just can’t brand a R over a W. 
It wouldn’t look right.  I tried on paper, and it just always looked really forced.  So we’ll
burn a blank over to erase your old one completely, and then have EMR freshly branded
underneath.

Sure – you’ll have a kind of blank rectangle burnt into your
skin.  But that’s OK.  Alan doesn’t mind.  The main thing is you’ll have your new brand just under.

 

 

Oh stop crying. 
You’re lucky you’re not getting EMR-W!  That would be even more painful, wouldn’t it? 
I’d suggested hyphenating our last names.  But Alan’s a bit old fashioned.  Doesn’t really believe in feminism.  So, I’ll be EMR, and it’ll say that on my credit cards and my passport – and on your left buttock.  Actually, I’m kind of glad he insisted.  It makes me feel very secure, as if by carrying his name around with me I’m holding his hand.  I know it’s not very feminist, but I’m just not a very feminist girl, really.  Alan’s made me realise that.    That’s one of the reasons I love him, actually.

What?  No, of course we can’t do EMW-R!  Alan got cross enough when I suggested hyphenating with his name first!  He’s not going to have you branded with my initial first, is he?  Honestly, you can be so insensitive sometimes! 

You’re getting away lightly at the moment, anyway, you know.  I’m just waiting for him to realise that all our property
belongs to both of us.  If he
does, maybe he’ll want his initials on you too. 
But he hasn’t said anything yet, so fingers crossed – OK?  Just our little secret. I know it really hurts, so I don’t want you to have to face any more irons than absolutely necessary, OK?

Sure.  I won’t say a thing.

Oh – and Alan left some shirts to be ironed – and he wants his shoes polished.  Something else to get used to, I guess!  It’s going to be strange for you, having a man to run around after as well as me.  Strange for both of us – I’ll have to get used to not being the only one in charge.  You know he’s already offered to spank you, if I’m too tired some time?

Plugged in



Boy?  You can come in here now.  I’m just about done.

Right, so as you can see I’ve been setting a few things up on your computer.  One of my other pupils is an IT expert.  Andy – such a clever boy!  He’s built a few tools under my instruction, and I’ve just installed them. See?  It runs in the background there: MyGoverness.

Now, give me your left hand.  Let me just put this on your wrist… hold still while it clicks shut – there!  Now, this just looks like an ordinary leather bracelet, but you see at the side here where it folds back?  Open that up.  That’s right.  Now that’s a USB key, and if you pull it you’ll see you have about three feet of cable too.

Let’s check the length.  Just plug it into the nearest USB port on your computer.  Hmm.  That’s a bit tight.  Can you move the PC just a bit to the left, so it’s closer to where you sit?  That’s right.  Now plug it in.  There – that’s fine, isn’t it?  You’re sitting comfortably at the PC and you can type with both hands but you’re plugged in, too.

Now you see how the icon has changed?  That’s because it knows you’re plugged in.  And it’s noted the time, and I’ll be able to see what time you plugged in too.  Now, the reason it’s yellow is that you’re on a voluntary session just now.  So you can unplug again – that’s right, just pull the USB key out – and you see, it’s turned back to green.  That’s OK.

But – plug in again, will you? – if I just set a compulsory session… hang on, I can do it with an app on my phone.  Here we are… George, that’s you… set compulsory…immediate…no end time – there.  You see?  The icon is red now, because you’re on a compulsory session.

Try unplugging.

See?  “Unauthorised exit” it says – and it’s flashing the whole screen and making that alarm noise to warn you.  And of course that’s all recorded and I can see that you unplugged without permission.  Those alarms are so that if you plug back in within ten seconds, it just records a minor infraction.  You know what you get for a minor infraction, don’t you George?  That’s right – it’s not pleasant, but it’s bearable.  But if it’s more than ten seconds it records a major infraction – and then of course it’ll be the cane.

No, no set number of strokes.  But obviously, there would be more the longer the unauthorised absence.



Let me just cancel that.  Plug back in first, will you?  That’s right.  And I’ll make a note to delete the major infraction it’s just recorded – see, there’s a message on my phone stating that George unplugged without authorisation for a period of 40 seconds.  And I press on that, it’ll call your dedicated mobile, so I can check what’s going on, and book you in for a caning.

Now then, compulsory sessions can be of fixed length or they can continue until tasks have been completed.  Let me show you some of the things we can do, shall I?

(Oh, he’s such a clever boy, Andy, he really is.  He’s been on this system for almost two years now, and of course since his job actually involves sitting in front of a computer, at home, I can keep him plugged in most of the time).

Now.  This is ‘detention’.  It’s the simplest programme of all.  You see – your computer’s completely unresponsive.  So you just sit here for as long as I’ve specified, and the clock there tells you how long you have to wait.  And if I just specify the no-hands option – like…so!  Now you can see the clock’s ticking upwards?  Quite fast?  Well, that’s because it’s adding time.  To start it counting down again, you have to press the q and the page down keys at the same time.  See – they’re on opposite sides of the keyboard so you have to use both hands. That’s right.  You see now it’s counting down again?  So if this were real, you’d stay like that for another hour and twenty minutes, before it releases you.

Oh – George?  Don’t try to stick the keys down with anything.  It never really works and I do make snap inspections you know.

And then there’s another option that specifies five keys on each side being pressed.  So you have to hold your hands perfectly still in a fixed position, until your detention is over.

 



OK, I’ll cancel that.

Hmmm?  Well no, of course you can’t.  If the cable to your wristband is broken, then it won’t register you.  It’s quite strong, though.  I suppose it could break by accident. You’d just have to make an appointment to see me and we’d discuss it.  If you have a good explanation, then I might not be too hard on you.

Right – now of course there’s a line-writing module.

Oh don’t groan, George!  Of course there’s a line-writing module.  All my boys have to write lines.  You knew that when you signed up to have a governess, didn’t you? 

Yes, of course you did.

Anyway, that works pretty much like the line-writing programmes you’ve probably seen on the Internet – Fond of Writing, writeforme and so on.  You see the line up there, you type it in a little box and if you make an error you have to write it again, and it adds an extra to your target.  Pretty straightforward.

In some ways, I prefer making boys write lines by hand.  I’ll still have you doing that as well – that’s generally what I have in mind when I set you a detention without fixing your hands on the keyboard.  But it’s so much easier this way – all quite automatic, you see.  And I can have a line of any length at all.  No – no limit.  At first Andy had it set at 255 characters, but when I said that wasn’t enough he converted it into an unlimited field.  I copied and pasted an entire chapter of the Guide to the Correction of Young Gentlemen, once.  Of course, it’s almost impossible to type that much without making at least one mistake!  When I looked the next day, I realised the boy I’d set it to had been going for over 18 hours, and he had 76 extras!  So of course I just let him finish the one he was on and that was that.  I’m not that strict!

I like setting lines in foreign languages too.  Turkish, Estonian… that kind of thing.  You have to concentrate a bit harder.  I could even just set a random sequence of letters and characters, but I do like the thought that the boy is actually learning something as he types it again and again.

Anyway, it can set on compulsory or voluntary mode while you’re writing your lines.  So it might keep you at it until you finished, or you might just have a target number of lines to complete by a set date.  One of my boys said in his application form that he needed a governess’s guidance to stop him procrastinating; so I set him 5000 lines every month but left it completely up to him when to do them.  The first few months, he left it awfully late and had to work through the night as he got close to the deadline, but now he’s learnt to settle down into a steady routine.  Isn’t that nice?



So that’s line-writing… what else can I show you?

That little light?  Yes, your camera’s on, you see.  I can check up on any of the boys who are plugged in.  And it stays on for a couple of minutes after they unplug – I love watching them frantically trying to plug back in within the ten seconds deadline if they pull it out accidentally.

Hmmm?  No, there’s no connection to your chastity belt.  Andy had some ideas about that, but it sounded very complicated and I didn’t really see the point.  After all, every boy comes to see me in person at least once every two weeks, so even the most frequent masturbation schedule can be supervised in person.

Oh – but that reminds me.  Here’s a task that you’re going to become very familiar with over the next few months!  This is called ‘mens sana‘.  Do you recognise the quote?

That’s right: mens sana in corpore sano.  Meaning?

Well, what’s the point of ‘knowing’ it if you don’t know what it means? 

I see.  Forgotten.  Well – it’s a good thing you’ve got a governess, then, isn’t it?

Mens sana in corpore sano means ‘a clean mind in a healthy body’.  And it’s what I aim to instil in you.  Because at the moment, you have a filthy mind in a disgustingly perverted and unhealthy little body, don’t you?

And why’s that?  Because you’ve spent so much time sitting right here, masturbating in front of all the pornography you have on this computer, that’s why!

Oh don’t be ridiculous, George, of course I found it!  I told you Andy was clever, didn’t I?  Do you think I wouldn’t have software that can find hidden images and movies?

Look – there it all is.  Filthy, filthy pictures and movies showing all sorts of things you’re not going to be allowed any more.  So – we’re going to clean it all up!

See – I’m setting a task called ‘clean up computer’…and requiring, let’s see, 100 a week.  Now – you see it’s opened a directory full of your pornography?  You can see the files there – in fact, this is the only way you can access this directory now.  Just double click on any of them – a picture, say.

There it is.  It’s all quite greyed out and blurry, so you can’t see much of it.  Not enough to get excited.  But we can see enough to know what it is, can’t we?  Poor girl – she must be awfully cold in that bra, especially without any panties.  Anyway – move your mouse over it.

That’s right.  You see how it’s changed to a scrubbing brush? So press both mouse buttons down and start scrubbing back and forth.  That’s right…back and forth, back and forth.  And you see how the picture is gradually disappearing where you scrub?  It takes about ten passes over any pixel to scrub it completely clean.  And once you’ve done it for the whole picture – that’s right, keep going.  Scrub it all away…  Once it’s done it for the whole picture, it deletes the file and records one filthy picture cleaned up. 

It works on videos too.  How about that one?  “Melissa sucks cock”  That sounds like the sort of thing we want to clean up.  It takes a frame every minute as a photo, and you have to clean all of them.  So let’s see… goodness, Melissa sucks a cock for a long time, doesn’t she?  Well, you’d better get started.  It will credit you with eleven cleaned-up pictures for this, so it’s all quite fair.

Each one takes about three minutes if you’re scrubbing vigorously, so 100 a week is just over three hours or so.  And you’ll continue that every week until they’re all gone.

How many have you got, anyway?  Goodness!  However did you find time to look at them all?  Well, you’re going to be doing this for a few years, by the looks of it, then, aren’t you?  And some of those look like quite long videos.



Anyway. you carry on scrubbing away poor Melissa’s unpleasant experience, and I’ll go downstairs and have a cup of tea.  I’ll set you a compulsory six hour session – to give you a tour of all the different features, and then when you wake up tomorrow you should plug in to see your weekly schedule – I can set it up tonight.  All my boys need to be plugged in at 6am every day, just to check for new instructions.

No, I can let myself out.  You gave me a spare key, remember?  So I can come and go as I please.  Unlike you.

The part of The Governess in this technological tale was played by the stern but beautiful Miss Jessica Wood. She’s based in Hertfordshire, which I think might be the first positive thing I’ve ever heard about the place.
 
PS – if you like writing lines for imaginary dommes (and, curiously enough, I do) try this line writing site.

Taking it slowly at first


Darling, I’ve been thinking about what you told me on
Saturday.  About your need to be…
dominated.  Sexually.


Look. 
I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.  It was just…a bit of a shock, you know?  It’s not really something I know a lot about, and it just sounded kind of weird and scary… and I guess I just didn’t want to hear that this was happening.  That this wasn’t really my husband saying these things.  You know?

But…I went to look at those web sites you suggested. And a few
more.  And… well, you know, it’s really
not my thing.  Really, really not.  But, darling, you’re my husband and I love you.  And if that’s what’s going
to make you happy, I think we should try it.

Oh darling, calm down.  It’s OK.  Really it is.

Only…it’s all very new to me, so you’ll have to be patient
with me at first, OK?  I don’t think I
can do all of it.  Not straight away.  I mean like dressing
up in leather and rubber and stuff like that. 
I don’t think I can do that. 
We don’t have to, do we?

Great.  Because that’s
a bit too much for me.  Maybe later.  When I’m used to it.

But I was reading about these husbands who dress up in
maids’ outfits and do all the housework. 
That seemed all right.  Shall we try that?  And I’m supposed
to punish you if it’s not done to my satisfaction, right?  With a cane or something?

Or a paddle.  Sure –
whatever.  I’m OK with that.

Oh – and financial domination too.  I could do that, I think.  We’d get your company to pay your salary into
my account, and I’ll control all the money – keep a tight rein on your
spending.  Maybe give you an allowance
each week; or just make you ask me if ever you want to buy anything.  Cane you if you spend any money without my permission.


“Or paddle”?  For that one as well?  OK, sure.  Doesn’t have to be a cane, I suppose.  Not every time.
 
I read a lot about financial domination.  It does sound kind of fun, actually.  So we can do that.

Anyway, erm…I’ve drawn up a ‘slave contract’.  With stuff about the housework and finances
and the punishment thing.  (I’ve written
‘cane’ actually, in the section about punishments, but we can make that ‘cane or paddle’ if you like.)  And cuckoldry – that’s a very femdom thing
too, right?  So you’ll enjoy that.  It’ll be better for me, too,
because you’ll be in chastity, and that way I don’t have to keep unlocking you
and locking you up again every time I want to make love.

But no more than that, at first, OK?  Just so we can take it slowly, for me.  I’ve included in the contract the right of
Mistress to change the terms anyway, so we can maybe put in a few more things as I
get more confident with it.

Shall I print the contract out now?  So we can sign?  I’ll add that thing about the paddle first.
 
 

Secret admirer


 


Oh darling, before we start playing – here’s something you’ll
like.

You have a secret admirer! 
No, really.  You know those photos
of you tied to the bed that we posted to the blog, ages ago?  Well, there’s this woman – at least she
claims to be a woman – who runs a blog where she posts captioned photos and
stories and stuff.  And she’s used a lot
of your pictures – oh, in at least 15 posts now.


It’s a bit different from our domestic discipline blog –
much heavier and darker stuff.  Like
castration, torture, snuff – that kind of thing.  She’s really clever, though – you wouldn’t
believe some of the creative ways she has you killed, in some of the
stories.  There’s one where you have your
eyes pecked out by a trained crow, and then you die of starvation after being
led into a pit by her voice.  And there’s
another where you’re nailed to a board, and then she hangs it up on the wall and masturbates looking up at you dying.


Yeah, I know.  Well I did say it was quite dark, didn’t I?  I don’t think I found a single story in which
you managed to keep your balls by the end, for example.  It’s amazing how many different ways she
knows to remove them.  The crow features in one of those too – she’s photoshopped it into one of the pictures of you.  It’s rather good, actually – you’d really think there was a bird between your legs.  She doesn’t try to show any actual action, of course, that would just look fake.  But it’s pretty menacing, especially once you know what happens in the rest of the story.


I’ll give you the address and you can have a look for yourself.  It’s called Boymeat, or something like that.

How did I find it?  Oh, I don’t know.  Just playing around on the Internet.  There’s so much weird stuff around, isn’t there?

Anyway, someone out there thinks you’re really sexy!  Pretty exciting, huh?  Maybe I should be jealous of her!

If it really is a her.

You ready now?  I
thought we might try a little teasing tonight.

At the hairdressers



Hi honey!

What?  Oh, my poor embarrassed baby!  You haven’t been worrying about that all day,
have you, honey?

Listen – if that’s what makes you feel sexy, it’s fine with
me, OK?  But I just need you to wash the trainers
out each time you do it, before I use them again, that’s all.

Oh, really?  Well, honey, you know
I run every day, so I guess they’ll get stinky again pretty quickly, won’t they?
Not stinky enough?  Awww… I’m sorry honey.  But you know, it’s not nice for me when I want to go for a run, if you’ve spurted all over the inside, see, and –


Oh – hey!  I just had
a brilliant idea.  Why don’t we keep an
old pair of my trainers for you to come in? 
You could sniff the pair 
I’m using as much as you like, but then when you jerk off you’d do it into one of the old ones.  Then I
wouldn’t have to worry about finding my new trainers all sticky! 


Yeah?  That works?

Oh – if I force you, huh?  Honey, you’re really pretty kinky aren’t you!  Sure – I can force you.  I’ll tie your hands behind your back and force your face down onto my stinky trainers with my foot – how about that?

Yeah – I thought you’d like that.  Or I could tie you to the bed and leave one over your face all night. Yeah, you betta believe it.  All night, honey.  Not in my bed, obviously.  I’m not sleeping with a smelly old trainer in the bed.  But I can put you in the guest bedroom.

What’ll I do?  Oh, I’ll be OK.  No, really. It’s OK honey.   
I mean, it’s not like our sex life was great anyway and – oh, I’m not
blaming you, honey!  It’s not your fault
you’re so small.  But I think we’ll both
be happier if you don’t have to try to please me in bed any more.  I was thinking anyway of telling you not to bother – I mean, it just makes you all embarrassed and ashamed, and it does nothing for me so –

Hmm?  No honey, that’s
just Mario talking.  I’m at the
hairdressers.

Not these, honey.  These are mine, OK?

Well of course he heard, honey, but don’t be silly about it. 
Mario wouldn’t say a thing. 
Hairdressers know how to keep secrets – don’t you Mario?  Anyway, I told him weeks ago about our wedding
night, so he already knows half the story.
Well sure, honey.  About all the condoms being too big to stay on and how you had to ask at the hotel reception for extra small and all that.  He was really sympathetic, even though he’s never had the problem himself.  Just the opposite, actually.
What? Oh, I didn’t mean anything by that, honey.  Just talking nonsense.  I do when I’m at the hairdresser’s.  Listen, anyway, we need to get my trainers cleaned up.  If you won’t wash them, then I guess you’re going to have to lick it out, aren’t you?  Yes, now, honey.  You got them there? OK, well you’re going to have to put the phone down to get your face right in there and lick it all out, OK?

Oh – hang on!  Before you hang off, my old trainers are in the closet by the kitchen door, OK?  Those are what you use for playing with yourself, honey, not the new ones!  I mean it!

That’s right.  OK, honey, have a good time.  I’ll be back quite late – maybe not until nine or so.  I’m having some complicated hair treatments today.  I expect you’ll find something to amuse yourself with until I’m back.  Won’t you?

Bye!

See honey?  This is where you’ll be making love from now on.  You’ll always have a choice between two sexy lovers who’ll never tell you you’re too small, and they don’t mind how quickly you come!  Do you wanna give them names?  I think you should give them names.

For old times’ sake 2


Oh hi!  Wow – it’s
really you!  When I saw the email from the agency,
I thought it must be someone else with the same name.  After all this time!
It’s so great to see you again!  Because, you know, I often think I never really thanked you enough
for giving me a chance in your startup. 
I mean, you were like this tech guru?  The big boss!  And I was just an intern!  And now look at me – you know how much I got
for the IPO?  $146m!  It’s kinda crazy. 
What a shame you had to leave the company
over that sexual harassment suit, just before we did the deal with Apple.  I really didn’t want to tell the investigators anything you know – none of the girls did.  I mean, except Julie, obviously.  But, you know, there was this really mean lawyer and I had to sign a thing saying I was committing the crime of perjury if I said anything untrue in my statement, so… you know.  Had to kind of tell them all about it.  But I cried about it that night.  And we didn’t speak to Julie again.
Hmm?  No, she moved away.  Bought like her own island in the Caribbean, or something.  So you needn’t worry about running into her too!

Still, it’s good to see you’re still in work.  And I’m so pleased I can help by being a
client!  Because really, you know, I owe
all of this to you.  I mean, it was your product.  Even if you signed away your rights to it, I expect you still feel some kind of ownership, huh?

So – why don’t you start in the bathroom?  You’ve got all your mops and sponges and
things?  Great.  Well, you get started.  I’m going to play tennis today – I have to go now, actually – but I
think you’re on a ten-hour shift? 
Great.  So we’ll have time to
catch up.

Oh – in the bathroom, we have these granite tiles?  With little gaps between them?  You should use a little wire brush for
those.  There’s one in the utility
closet, if you don’t have one with you.

Oh – yeah, and we only use natural cleaning products?  No chemicals, all through the house.  You have to work a bit harder to get a shine, but we think the planet’s a bit more important!  And if it takes you a bit longer, you get paid more don’t you?

Don’t you?  Oh.  Well, we have to pay the agency by the hour.

Oh.  That’s mean.  OK.  Well, maybe I can give you a little extra, OK?  The agency said not to, but if it’s just a few dollars, I don’t see the harm in it.  If you do a good job!


See you later!

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