Monthly Archives: August 2020

THE SPITTOON

I’m on my knees beside the sink. She squeezes toothpaste on Her brush and glances down at me.
Tingling-fresh! Ice-fresh! She says with a sales-pitched voice. This toothpaste is actively caring for My teeth and gums!
I have no idea what She’s talking about: I’m sorr-
She slaps me once, twice, thrice with the back of Her hand.
You’re a spittoon and spittoons don’t talk!
Jesus, my head is spinning and my jaw hurts like the dickens. She starts to brush, moving the toothbrush in tiny circles over Her teeth. My dick and I look up to Her in quiet admiration.
Anyway, She says through the foam, this toothpaste means sparkling whiteness for My teeth.
She leans over and spits in my mouth.
Now, that’s a gorgeous mix of saliva and toothpaste, I hope you appreciate that.
Thank Y-
She slaps me again, only harder this time. Much harder. The fillings rattle in my teeth.
One more word from you, spittoon, and you’ll end up in the garbage truck!
I keep my mouth shut and open.
Let’s not forget the gums, She says, as She continues to brush Her teeth, because for the gums this tingling-freshness means even more!
She spits the toothpaste right into my mouth again.
Isn’t it ice-fresh in your throat right now, slave?
Yes, M-
She almost decapitates me with a vicious slap. The bathroom heels to starboard.
You did it again, didn’t you, spittoon!

MY FINEST HOUR

When I was younger, I used to play fight a lot. I loved it, became obsessed and addicted and craved for more and more. Alas, puberty put an end to this and it made me feel utterly miserable. It felt like being fucked up the ass by a Cold Turkey, one might say. I tried everything to get a shot of happiness and it took me more than a year to convince, persuade and bribe Eve to put me in a headlock.
I’m so sure, I teased, that you can’t hold me down.
And so, after giving Her my money, She told me to lay down on the grass. I almost teared up between my legs when She wrapped one arm around my head and squeezed me in a tight headlock. Her face was so close to mine that I could feel the warmth of Her breath on my face. Then She placed my left arm in an armlock and squeezed. Holy Moses, I didn’t see that one coming! I erupted in pain and tapped out quickly.
Don’t move, or I will hurt you a lot more, She said.
I tested that theory two or three times, and learned She was right. So I gave up struggling and lay there helpless and unable to move. It didn’t seem to take Her any effort at all to keep me down, which made it even more special. I was in Heaven, and looking back on my teenage years, I can honestly say this was my finest hour.

A DAY IN COURT

Name?
Slave Tingle, Your Honour.
Ah, Tingle, yes. You removed your chastity device without permission, is that correct?
It fell off, Your Honour.
You sawed the padlock off.
Correct, Your Honor, and then it fell off.
He just stood there as relaxed and comfortable as could be. He was simply too simple, too ignorant, too naive and too stupid to think through the consequences of his actions.
The gorgeous, smashing, breathtaking judge sighed.
Why did you take it off, Tingle?
I was horny, Your Honour, my balls were burn-
Thank you, Tingle, I get the picture. 
She looked at Her papers and said: I give you the choice between castration an-
I take the second option, Your Honour, he hastily said.
You don’t want to hear the second option?
No, thank you, Your Honour. I’m too attached to my balls, thank You very much. 
Fine by Me. Then, without further ado, I hereby sentence you, slave Tingle, to ten years in prison.
Ho-ho, wait a minute, Your Honour. Did you say ten days or ten weeks?
Years, Tingle. Ten years behind bars.
Oh dear. Is that with or without a chastity cage, Your Honour?

SLAVE CONTRACT

I came this close (look at my fingers) to signing a slave contract. The contract was there, the day was set, the witnesses ready … and then, just forty minutes before the ceremony, the Mistress changed Her mind. I was devastated, like being fucked up the ass by two-thousand short-temperted, all-horny, ready-to-rrrrumble Vikings, but I showed no outward signs of emotion. Because it’s not done, better said: fucking rude, to question a decision of a Lady. So I didn’t ask and She never explained.
Now, a slave contract has no legal binding whatsoever, of course. It’s as worthless as you and me. Because slavery is illegal, even if both parties desire it. Take it to court and you will probably be fined for waisting their time.
Still, I would have given my left toe and my right testicle for a contract like that. Because those meaningless signatures still mean something, you know. Because no self-resprecting slave should, could or would ever walk away from the promises and duties he signed up for in a slave contract. In that respect a slave contract is far more binding than the law wants us to believe.

SUMMER SALE

By Mistress & Madams Auctioneers (aka M&M’s): On Monday the 16th April 2096, at 2 o’clock P.M., will be sold at the Femdom Hotel in Chicago, the following described slaves:

Dick, aged 26, cook, carpenter & cleaner, energetic boy with a small penis
Fetch, aged 33, human dog, loves being butt scratched, play fetch and tug-of-war
Jack O’, aged 41, aka Of-All-Trades, quiet, humble and obedient, face-slap lover
Rebel, aged 22 , unguided missile, looking for a strict and firm Mistress
Albert E, aged 37, gardener, rare specimen, shows signs of intelligence, foot fetishist
Julian, aged 59, experienced housemaid (Julia) with a fetish for high heels (for himself)
Jeeves, aged 48, head butler, trustworthy, impeccable manners, weakness for shiny satin
Ed, aged 27, human horse, very easy to ride, suitable for dressage or jumping
Billy, aged 40, (aka Idea-Ikea) human furniture, to be used as footstool, doormat or floor lamp
Mark, aged 51, servant, hardcore masochist, bruised and battered item
Digitalus, aged 30, computer nerd, goofball, drinks spit by the gallon
Will, aged 57, bookkeeper, good subject with a piss fetish, nicknamed Pee Willy

All the above slaves are fully guaranteed against the vices and diseases prescribed by law. All slaves can be seen, slapped, kicked and mildly whipped by applying at the office of the Auctioneers. Purchased items can be castrated on request.

A LITTLE PUSH

Let Me get this straight. There is a red button on My website, saying Don’t Click Here. Correct?
Yes, Mistress Valkyrie.
So, what did you do?
I clicked on it, Mistress, I said wit a guilty voice.
Yes, you did. Then what happened?
A dialog box popped up, Mistress, prompting me to apologise for my bad behaviour.
Go on …
I closed the dialog box, I squeaked, because I panicked you see. I put my computer to sleep and went to bed with a book.
And a boner, no doubt.
I nervously giggled: Yes, Mistress Valkyrie.
Why?
Because of Your demanding words in the dialog box, Mistress. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The next morning I clicked the button again and wrote a sincere apology.
That’s right. And now we’re on the phone, talking about you behaviour. You told Me you are still a novice slave, but you disobeyed Me and you have to be punished. And I’m not talking about paying a fine, I’m talking about a punishment in the flesh. So you have to book a session with Me. That’s a direct order from Me to you, slave. I don’t care how you do it, but you will do it.
And that’s how it all started for me. If it hadn’t been for Mistress Valkyrie, I would still be a novice slave, endlessly waiting for the right moment.

SLAPS

SLAP
SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP
SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP – SLAP

ONE KISS AWAY

You’ve been staring at My feet for months now, She said, I think you’re ready to kiss them.
He wriggled nervously in his chair: No, haha, thank You. Yes, You have beauti- but no, no, haha.
He was a quiet man, a bachelor and a passionate bookkeeper. He lived in a small house with four goldfish, named Ollie, Mollie, Hollie and Fred. He lived a perfect life and never asked for more. But then he met Lady Grace and everything changed. Even his scrotum, which had been in lockdown since early childhood, was now boiling and steaming like a geyser.
Kneel down, that’s all there is to it, She said.
Oh, heavens above, he blushed, no, I would never do that, never ever.
She crossed Her legs and dangled Her heel from Her foot.
Are you sure? She asked with a teasing smile.
His eyes were glued to Her foot and he was breathing heavily. Turned out his “never-ever” lasted only 27 seconds, then he slid off his chair onto the floor and crawled to Her feet.
That’s better. You may address Me as Princess Ingrid. And now I want you to beg for permission to worship My feet.
Oh God, p.please Princess, I humbly ask Your permission to kiss Your feet. I beg You.
She smiled down on him. He had no idea he was just ten centimeters away from a new, everlasting addiction, and just one kiss away from a life in slavery.