Monthly Archives: April 2021


I always think of happy things before I go to sleep. And to me, happiness means being bossed around, simple as that. And yes, I admit, I fantasize about celebrities as well. Can’t remember a time that I didn’t, to be honest. So close your eyes and let me show you around in dreamland.
There, on your left, is Emma Watson’s house. She’s all smiles and laughter, as long as you do exactly as She says. Don’t hesitate, don’t frown and for God’s sake, don’t argue, for She will raise Her wand at you. And trust me, being turned into a frog really sucks.
Over there, in the distance, is Gal Gadot’s Grotto. Last week She decided to teach me a lesson. I asked Her why, because I hadn’t done anything. Exactly, She said, and scissored me with Her beautiful legs until I passed out (aka fell asleep).
Over there? That’s Kristen Stewart’s land. She can break even the toughest of the toughest with Her killer smile, no kidding. Enter At Your Own Risk, the sign near the entrance says. ‘Nuff said.
And there … look at my finger … there … that’s Kate Beckinsale’s underworld. This Lady really sinks Her teeth into you and I’ve lost many a pint of blood over there. But then again, I’d give my life for Her, so who cares about a bit (aka bite) of blood. Buffy (the Vampire Slayer) used to live here as well, but She and Kate were constantly at each other’s throats. The whole neighborhood went down the drain. So Buffy moved to the other side of the valley. I often go there and tell Her I’m a vampire. Famous last words (aka: from apatite to epitaph).
There’s much more that I want to show you, man. So meet me again tonight in my imaginary world and wait for me at the junction, alright?


Repeat after Me, slave: I, slave Knucklehead the Idiot, do solemnly swear that I will obey all orders of my Mistress; that I support and defend the Superiority of Women and that I’m willing and ready to give up my nuts, my dick and my miserable life for Her, so help me God.
That’s rather a mouthful, Mistress, I wo-
She pushed the button and shocked his balls into madness. He screamed in pain and the words poured from his mouth: I, slave Knucklehead the Idiot, swear tha-
Do solemnly swear, She shocked.
Arrrghh! Do solemnly swear that I will obey all orders of my Mistress; that I defe-
Support and defend ….
Ahhhhh-ahhh!! Support and defend the Superiority of Women and that I’m willing to give u-
Willing and ready, She growled angrily, pushing the button repeatedly.
He jumped in pain: Jesu-u-u-us!! W.willing and ready to give up my b.balls, m-
Nu-u-u-u-u-u-u-uts. Willing and ready to give up my nuts, my dick and my miserable life for Her, so help me God.
Exactly! Don’t you ever forget it, slave.
No, Mistress, he said and his face beamed with relief. His ordeal was ove-
Now, let’s do one of Shakespeare’s plays, shall we? Only 14,701 words; it’s called “Comedy of Errors”. Here we go!


Once upon a time a Girl called Little Red Riding Boots was on Her way to see Her grandmother. And, as always, She met Mr. Wolf along the way.
Good-day, Riding Boots, said he. Whither away so early?
To granny, if you must know, sighed She.
He stared at Her boots and shook his head disapprovingly: These are not riding boots, Little Red!
One word for you, Wolf, She growled: fuck off.
He said something very, very naughty and disappeared into the trees. One hour later She arrived at the cottage. Her grandmother looked very strange.
Oh, grandmother, said She, what hairy arms you have!
It’s true, child, I look like woolly mammoth nowadays. Better call me Hairy Granny from now on.
But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!
Yes, I’ve been sniffing some coke, and I’m tripping all over the place.
Grandmother, what an enormous dick you have.”
All the better to fu-
Little Red Riding Boots grabbed the slithering dick with Her left- and a large butcher’s knife from Her basket with Her right hand. She pushed the knife underneath his scrotum.
Hello, Wolfie! She grinned. Look in My basket.
He obeyed and screamed in horror.
Jesus! Are these … testicles?
Very good! Ain’t they cute? They belong, or should I say belonged, to My other victims.
Wait a minute, wait a minute, said he, with renewed confidence, I know this tale and this is not how the story goes.
True, said She, but this is how your story ends.


He took me down to the cellar and showed me a rack filled with wooden wine boxes.
I’m not a wine collector, he explained, sliding the lid of a box, I collect worn panties.
And lo and behold, inside the box was a plastic zip bag with a panty.
I have collected 217 panties already; Lady Anja, Queen Ti (aka Tea), Goddess Sasha, Mistress Ilse, Lady Marion, their panties are all here.
Explain to me how it works, I asked intrigued.
It’s a Birthday Box kinda thing, if you know what I mean. All boxes are labeled with a date. Today it’s Mistress Kate’s birthday for example, so during the day I will watch some of Her clips or look at a bunch of pictures. I’m putting the kettle on, so to speak. I’m warming up. And then, between eight or nine this evening, I will open Her sealed bag and take three long sniffs.
That’s it? Three sniffs?
One must not overdo it, you know, he explained. After that, I sing Happy Birthday for Her.
No, in the cellar.
Right, right. But … let me get this straight, you don’t touch the panties.
Of course not! Jesus, are you nuts? A worn panty means more to me than all the money in the world. So I handle them delicately and gracefully. Fresh, Fruity & Smelly, that’s the threesome I’m looking for. My goal is to have a collection of 365+1 panties. One for each day.


In short, Milady, we demand shorter workdays, decent wages, less stressful working conditions, full weekends off, better bathing facilities, nutritious meals and new beds. Oh, and an iPad.
Lady Lock had been listening with open mouth.
This is a Hard Labor Camp, you do know that, don’t you, slave?
Of course, Milady, of course. But we want to be heard, You see.
You want to be heard …
Actually, we DEMAND to be heard, Milady.
OK, slave, if you demand to be heard, then by God, you shall be heard.
Are You … are You teasing me now, Milady?
I’m not, slave. Your screams of pain and mercy shall be heard, I guarantee you that!
I understand, Milady, he quickly said, this is not the right moment. I’ll come ba-
Your screams shall be heard throughout the entire state, over the hills and across the seas. You will scream till your voice is gone, beg till you go not tears to cry.
I apologize, Milady, he said soothingly, I’ve crossed the line, I realize that now. Forgive me my behavior, I’m really, really sorry. But can we at least talk about free lotion, Milady? I have a very sensitive skin that gets dry very quickly.
We have not heard from him since.


They’d tortured him for days to get information, but he didn’t say a word. Then a gorgeous blond Lady with glossy lips, smokey eyes and killer legs stepped into the interrogation room. Thank God his dick couldn’t speak, because that bloody thing was ready to spill the beans.
I see you’re getting hard for Me, She said, let’s hope you’re also willing to die for Me.
She stood behind him, put a plastic bag over his head and squeezed it tight around his neck. He was tied to a chair, couldn’t move a muscle. The bag was expanding in and out, as he struggled for oxygen. He panicked and his eyes almost popped out of his head. He was about to lose consciousness. She let him breathe a few seconds and bagged him again. And again ….. and again. And yet again. She was a skilled and experienced torturer & interrogator and She allowed him just enough air to survive. It took Her less than fifteen minutes to break him. He told Her everything She wanted to know. And more. In the end She had to gag him to make him shut up.
A plastic bag costs a penny and is worth a million, She said. And you can’t argue with that.


You live and work on My land, care for the animals and help maintain the estate. Eighty percent of what you grow and harvest is Mine, the rest is yours. But, in all honesty, everything you own and everything you produce actually belongs to Me. I can take whatever I want. Instead of money, you can earn certain privileges. The privilege to be in the same room with Me, for example. Or the privilege to clean My boots, drive Me to town, be whipped by Me personally … Those things are more valuable than all the money in the world, don’t you think?
You are not allowed to leave the estate without My permission. And even then, you are not allowed to leave for more than eight hours. Sexual relationships with Women, or men for that matter, are strictly forbidden. Should I, in the unlikely event, allow you to marry someone from another estate, then you must pay me a hefty fine. Which is impossible, since you are not allowed to earn any money.
Of course, you can always try to run away. I would strongly advise against it though, since you’re penniless and don’t have any papers that show you’re a free man. Trust Me, people will avoid you like the plague and no one will help you. On the contrary, they will notify Me right away and I will sent the bloodhounds after you. Your are mine, you better get used to the idea.
November 2118, Sarah Clarke – A New Beginning