Cashless society

A silly little tale.  But could it happen in reality?  You decide.

Sometimes Dennis wished he’d been born a hundred years
before.  ‘I mean, what was wrong with
just using money anyway?’ he asked himself furiously, as the line in front of
him to the check-out slowly shortened. 
Or cheques, he thought.  I could
really be good with cheques.  Just sign
your name – done.

The man in front of him reached the checkout desk.  He wasn’t buying much – just a couple of
pairs of socks.  Dennis, in contrast, was
laden down with clothes of all descriptions. He tried to buy as much as he
could each time.

“That’s £8.25, thank you sir.” he heard the shop assistant
say.  “If you’d like to just place your
penis into the scanner for ID verification.”

Dennis surreptitiously glanced past the man’s broad back, to
see a large pink object being deposited in the half-cylinder on the counter,
with an audible thwack.  After a few
seconds, there was a quiet ‘beep’ and the penis was put back inside the man’s trousers and he zipped up.  A small green light was winking on the device
on the counter, with two red lights beside it. 
Two red lights! Dennis stared with horror.  The WR-20s only had one red light.  This must be one of the new VC8000
models!  He’d only come to this shop
because he was confident it still used WR-20s. 
At least those usually worked after the third or fourth try.

He considered running, but it was too late.  The man in front had taken his socks and
gone, and the sales assistant was smiling vacantly at him.

“All these is it?  Do
you have a storecard with us at all?”

Dennis shook his head sullenly as he wondered why sales
assistants all had that strange way of speaking. 
Why put emphasis on the ‘have’? 
And what on earth is ‘at all’ supposed to mean in that context?

But he couldn’t distract his mind for long from his
impending fate, and soon enough the assistant was saying “That’ll be £458.75
altogether, please.  If you’d like to
just place your penis into the scanner for ID verification.”

Taking a deep breath, Dennis opened his flies and pushed
himself as hard as he could against the edge of the counter.  His penis, looking smaller and more
shrivelled even than usual, just managed to cover the first inch or so of the
VC8000’s black length. Nothing happened.

“Just be a moment” the shop assistant said, apparently to
the air beside her.  “Sometimes it’s a
bit temperamental.”  They waited a bit
longer.

Eventually, she seemed to snap out of her shop assistant
trance and notice that something wasn’t right. 
She pressed an elegantly manicured finger to a button on the side of the
VC8000.  Three red lights flashed angrily
in response.

“I’ve never seen it do that before.” she said,
uncertainly.  “Maybe we could try another
– “

“My penis is too small to activate the scanner”, Dennis
said, very fast and low.  “Please – it’s
OK, you can take a manual ID verification instead.  You’ve done it before.”

“Eh?” the assistant replied. 
“Shall we try another scanner?”

Dennis swore inside. 
“No” he said through gritted teeth. 
“My penis is too small to activate the scanner.  It won’t work in any of them.”

“Oh.” the assistant said, looking a bit worried.  She turned to the lady next to her and spoke
in a singsong conversational voice: “Gentleman says his penis is too small to
activate the scanner, Mrs Dawes.”

The older lady looked dismissive.  “Oh no – just shove it a bit further up.  They’re very good these days.”

“Could you shove it a bit further up for me?” the assistant
asked brightly, and Dennis made a show of pressing his groin even more firmly
against the edge of the counter.  Christ,
his balls hurt.  The base of his penis
moved perhaps two millimetres further onto the counter.  The skin wrinkled ever so slightly, the tip
moved not at all.

Now several of the sales staff were involved, standing
around and staring at the problem. Dennis didn’t dare turn around to see how
many customers were in the queue behind him, but he could hear some shuffling
feet and the occasional ‘tsk!’.

One of the ladies looked up and called right across the shop
“MISS MARKHAM!  GENTLEMAN’S PENIS IS TOO
SMALL TO ACTIVATE THE SCANNER!”  Dennis
felt as if he would die.

A tall blonde lady, dressed all in black strode over.  Dennis estimated her age as mid-thirties and her attitude as lethal.  She fixed him with a
cool stare.

“What seems to be the problem here?”

“Well, Miss Markham, the gentleman…” began one of the
younger assistants.

“I asked the gentleman here!” Miss Markham snapped, giving
her a murderous look. “Well?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

 

“My er,…” Dennis began, staring shamefacedly down.  He looked up and into the most piercing blue
eyes he had ever seen.  She was holding a
pen, which she started to tap steadily against her clipboard.  Her lips pursed.

“Small penis problem, is it?”

“Erm, yes.  You see I
-“

“You have a penis that is too small to function properly,
that is all I need to see” Miss Markham snapped back.  Several of the sales staff tittered.

“But if you can’t verify your identity, I’m afraid we’ll
have to deal with you as a criminal” Miss Markham went on, the merest hint of a
smile on her ruby lips.  I’ll have to
take you off to our holding room and investigate the matter thoroughly.”  One perfectly lacquered fingernail pushed
firmly against the clip holding the papers to her clipboard, forcing it all the
way down and then letting it snap back with savage force.
 

“Unless of course, you can produce an adequately sized penis
right here and now” she went on. 
“Adequate for ID verification purposes that is. I hardly think that it
would ever be suitable for anything else.”

She leaned forward to whisper in Dennis’s ear.

“And I see you’re wearing a wedding ring.  Please pass on my condolences to your
wife.  You might want to let her know
that our ladies department has a line of very discrete vibrators.  They come in lots of different sizes… all a
lot bigger than that.”
(Yes, I know this scene has nothing to do with the story.  But isn’t she wonderful?)
 

“The gentleman was saying as how he could manually – “
Dennis’s original assistant ventured, but Miss Markham just held her gaze to
his in silence.

“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary” she murmured.

They looked down. 
Dennis’s penis was no longer resting on the VC8000.  On the contrary, it seemed to have become
self-supporting, waving uncertainly an inch or so above the scanner.  It had also become at least an inch longer.

Miss Markham smiled and lowered her clipboard, concealing
the awful sight and firmly pressing Dennis’s cock down onto the black plastic
surface.  He gasped with shock and
pleasure.

There was a quiet beep and a light turned green.

Epilogue

Dennis’s wife, Mary came home to a room full of bags and
boxes.  “Oh darling!” she gasped.  “Whatever have you been buying?”

“Anything I like!” Dennis replied, proudly.  “Well, as long as it’s available at De
Lacey’s – but they sell everything under one roof, so why would that matter?”

“Oh darling!”, Mary remarked again (as ladies on this blog
are inclined to do).  “But, erm… what
about paying for them?  You know – your
little problem?”

“Not a problem any more!” Dennis beamed.  He had a sudden thought “Oh – and I got you
this.”

He handed her a gift-wrapped package and stood back.

“For me?” she asked. 
“Oh you shouldn’t have”.  And
quickly she unwrapped the ribbon and paper to reveal a long cardboard box.  She gently eased off the lid, to expose a
long, plastic object nestling on crepe paper inside.

“Oh darling” she said, running her finger lightly along its
length, gently stroking the ribbing, resting the tip on the buttons at the base.  “My
sweet, silly darling.”

“Did you think I didn’t have one already?”
 
 
 

In this absurd story, the part of Miss Markham was played by the fabulous Mistress Eleise de Lacey.  When I started writing the story, she wasn’t involved but she just arrived halfway through, and took over.

However, no resemblance of the characters to any person living or dead is intended.  Except the character of Dennis, who is very precisely based upon Servitor in all significant, and several insignificant, respects.

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




Begging on the streets

Street begging?  Eh?  I’m opposed to it.  I just think it’s unecessary, and disturbs people going about their daily business.

But she insists on it, so of course who am I to argue?

SPH lady is precise
Actually, I prefer to use centimetres.  Or even milimetres.
 
 

Farmyard femdom oh my
I wonder what the prize is, if he gets them right?
 
 

Female led discussion
Then again, maybe we don’t have to discuss it right now…. We do?  Oh.  OK.
 
 
 
Slave furniture
Actually, the back of the laptop adjusts.  But her way’s good.
 
 

Bad news femdom snuff oh dear
I wonder what it can be?
 

Vermiform

That’s me.

Pervert punishment
Of course he can.  He’d do anything for her.  Wouldn’t you?
 
 

Humiliation served cold
Well… OK.  This time.
 
 

SPH handjob
Hmmm.  An occasional sympathy fingerjob.  Well, that’s a pretty big win, right there.

 
 
Cruel therapist
It’s great when you’re confident your therapist understands the real you, isn’t it?
 
 

I don’t think she’s taking this seriously enough, you know.  I mean, a man’s been murdered here.  And more importantly, a quite valuable pen was stolen, too.

Sub-shaming

It’s a strangely self-defeating exercise, because we love it.

Sympathy porn
That’s kind of her.  Not exactly a sympathy fuck… more of a pitiful wank.  But the principle’s the same.
 
 



Castration lit again
Kinda scary.  Yeah.
 
 

 
 
 

I hold that truth to be self-evident.
 
 

Accidental scene
OK, now that would be humiliating.  And not in a good way.  Well…maybe a little bit good…mmmm.
 
 
Creepy Servitor
It’s uncanny.  It’s almost as if she knows me.  Do you think I should go and hang around her house in Beverly Hills… see if fate somehow brings us together?

Oh sweet misery of life at last I’ve found you

Thoughtful domme
There now – you can’t say she didn’t consider it.
 
 

Femdom wife demands obedience
I believe she’s right.
 
 

Cuckold femdom fantasy etc
It’s good to be special.



Mistress stores slave away
Oh well, as long as she doesn’t give a fuck, I suppose it’s all right.

 
 
Yes Ma’am.

Crying behind the tears


Never mind.  They can’t spend the whole two weeks discussing your sexual inadequacies, now can they?

And you can play out ‘small penis humiliation’ scenes even more effectively!  You like SPH, right?



Plenty of time.  Brain damage sets in quite quickly, but it’s a few minutes after that before any vital organs are affected.
Male servitude
Well, she seems very determined.  Just as well, at those hourly rates.

This is of course, the divine Eleise de Lacy, of Femme Fatale fame.  Wonderful lady, wonderful site. 
Divine contemplation
Time to pull out that faded old copy of the pre-nup and refresh your memory about some of the other terms she insisted on putting in.  I’m fairly sure many of the more painful ones are illegal, though – maybe you could have a word with the learned lady from the previous picture?




Dealing with feelings of sexual inadequacy

Here are some ladies who know exactly how to do that.

Small condom humiliation
I find it quite hard to find condoms in my size, actually. I used to think it was because I was so unusually small, but actually a kindly pharmacist once explained to me that there are quite a lot of men this small – it’s just that they never get to have any sex, so there’s not much of a market for condom makers.  That made me feel a lot better.
 
 

Actually, that sort of failure rarely happens to me.  I usually find I can make women laugh, one way or another.
 I wouldn’t recommend a visit to the Young Goddess site these days, unless you’re really into self-loathing, as the guy who ran it got religion and decided that all of this is sinful.  Which of course, it is.  Still…I guess that means he’s relinquished copyright on everything?
 

Sorry.  Too embarassing a memory to talk about.  Move on please, move on.
 
 

That Raoul.  I’m sure he’s cheating on her.  Last time, I bought eight condoms and when I came round the next day to clean up, I only found six that he’d used.  Men can be such beasts…I don’t know what she sees in him.
 
 

She had to have the last one put down.  He was just too yappy.  It wasn’t an easy decision, though, and she made the mistake of looking back and catching his eye when she left him at the vet for the last time.  A tear or two was shed that night, I can tell you, as she thought of him alone in his cage at the vet’s waiting for the lethal injection the next morning.  But she’s sure it was for the best.
 
Quite a combination, there, Mistress T of Vancouver to the left, Goddess Lexi Sindel to the right, and Mistress Mina Thorne in the middle.  [With thanks to commenters for one identification]

A service of worship

More femdom captions…captioned images of female domination.  Dominatrix… or Herrin, Maitresse, Dominadora or Padrona.  That sort of photos: of cruel dominas, dommes, mistresses and their male slaves, submissives, subs.
 
(Yes, I know you know all of that already.  But search engines don’t, poor lambs).

Oral service fucktoy
Or indeed speak.
 
 




You see, it’s not actually a mail-order bride service. It’s for mail-order husbands.
 
 

She’s obviously know.  Most of the girls in the office know all about your, ermm… little problem.
 
 
 
He doesn’t take up much room.
 
 
 

Just a little light spanking. Then the heavy paddle.  So much more fun, on the front.

The future’s bright – just not for you

More captioned images of female domination, of course.

Space 1999 amazons
As I’ve mentioned before: Space 1999 Devil Planet episode.  See it, if you haven’t already.
 


Disciplinary verbals femdom
Actually, most humiliatrices are kind and gently supportive, out of session.  Just not with useless losers like you.  Asshole.

The remarkable Lexi Sindel.

 

 

Financial and physical domination
Still, on the bright side it should make sticking to her weight loss targets easier.
(The lovely Lady Heather, of course)
 


I think any really lasting relationship should be based on fear, don’t you?
 
 

Oh dear.  You know, in these circumstances, the gentlemanly thing to do is just let her leave.  And don’t even think of asking for your money back.