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Monthly Archives: September 2021
A TILLY TALE
The duel between Bill “Coconuts” Branson, undoubtedly the most notorious outlaw of his time, and Tilly the Tit (a niece of Billy the Kid), was witnessed by hundreds of spectators. It was noon, the sun was hot, the sand dry and the salon empty. Tilly shot the gun out of Bill’s hand and then, without blinking an eye, shot his hat from his head. Bill was not happy (he seldom was, to be honest) and came charging at Her like an angry bull. She could have shot him point-blank, but didn’t. Instead She lashed out and punched him hard on the nose, jammed Her fingers into his eyes and kicked him hard between the legs (aka: from coconuts to peanuts). Bill went down like a sack of potatoes and Tilly grabbed Her lasso and reduced him to an oversized roulade.
From now on, I’m the Boss down here, Tilly said to the crowd. If you have a problem with that, then leave. I’ll give you a one day’s head start. If I catch you, and I will, I will cut off your balls and feed them to the pigs. If you’re a woman, I’ll sell you to a whorehouse. You have My word.
She looked down on Bill, who was still in real pain.
And you, She smiled, I’m going to keep you as My pet.
Legend has it that Tilly hasn’t aged a day and still runs the town with an iron fist.
From now on, I’m the Boss down here, Tilly said to the crowd. If you have a problem with that, then leave. I’ll give you a one day’s head start. If I catch you, and I will, I will cut off your balls and feed them to the pigs. If you’re a woman, I’ll sell you to a whorehouse. You have My word.
She looked down on Bill, who was still in real pain.
And you, She smiled, I’m going to keep you as My pet.
Legend has it that Tilly hasn’t aged a day and still runs the town with an iron fist.
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FEMDOM TIME
I wasn’t focused on one particular Mistress, to be honest. Because the best facesitting Lady is not by definition the best disciplinarian. And the best ballbusting Princess is perhaps not the best humiliator. Do you know what I mean? I wanted to meet them all! So I dove in on the deep end and booked a session with a professional Mistress. It was spec-tac-u-lar and a wet dream come true. What a way to start a submissive journey! I was rea-
I want you to come to My house this Saturday at 10am sharp, She said. I need someone to clean the place and that someone is you.
Like being run over by a lawnmower, do you get my drift? My shoes and I stared at Her open mouthed, my tiny little brain all over the place, my heart pumping like a maniac. She was kidding, right? She knew nothing of me! On the other hand: She hadn’t asked me, She had ordered me. And that was a big difference for a guy li-
Have I misjudged you? She asked with a tone of disbelief.
No, Mistress, of course not, I hastily said, I’m just lost for words! I would be thrilled and honoured, thank You so much!
So, there you have it: I went in a one timer, came out a life timer.
July 2003, slave michael, Northampton, UK
I want you to come to My house this Saturday at 10am sharp, She said. I need someone to clean the place and that someone is you.
Like being run over by a lawnmower, do you get my drift? My shoes and I stared at Her open mouthed, my tiny little brain all over the place, my heart pumping like a maniac. She was kidding, right? She knew nothing of me! On the other hand: She hadn’t asked me, She had ordered me. And that was a big difference for a guy li-
Have I misjudged you? She asked with a tone of disbelief.
No, Mistress, of course not, I hastily said, I’m just lost for words! I would be thrilled and honoured, thank You so much!
So, there you have it: I went in a one timer, came out a life timer.
July 2003, slave michael, Northampton, UK
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CLOTHESPINS
There are several rules of thumb when it comes to clothespins. For example: the thinner the skin, the more unpleasant. Or: the closer together, the more agony. And the most important one: taking them off, hurts more than putting them on. With that in mind, let the fun begin. Now, use enough clothespins to start a laundry business. Put them on his arms, legs, chest, back, nipples, scrotum, ears, nose, tongue and wherever there’s space left. The more, the merrier, that’s the spirit. Let the pins simmer for a while and stir them from time to time. He’ll love that. Or not. Sure, you can remove them one after the other … but ask yourself this: do you break up a jigsaw puzzle piece by piece? Do you know what I mean? Just grab a riding crop and flick them off! It’s much more fun and if you miss ONE, you hit HIM! So cool! Or, and now we’re getting somewhere, attach the clothespins to a thin piece of rope. Removing them is now the easiest thing in the world! Just grab the rope and yank them all off at once! Trust me, he’ll love it. Or not. And, as a final touch, rubbing, squeezing and pinching the tortured skin only adds more joy to the agony.
And that concludes today’s lesson. Next week: how to iron a laundry slave.
And that concludes today’s lesson. Next week: how to iron a laundry slave.
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ALL EARS
The Ladies spoke Czech with each other, so I didn’t understand a word of what they were saying. That didn’t mean I had a day off, or something luxurious like that. Don’t listen but always pay attention, they used to say, slapping me across the face to drive the point home. Anyway, all went well in the beginning. There was a lot of laughter and I, well I was all dick & no brains. Then one of the Ladies looked at me, frowned, grabbed my left ear and turned it like an organ grinder turning the crank and making music. And in this case, I was making the music.
A-h-a-a-a-h, Mistress! My e-a-a-a-r!!!
Are you deaf? She shouted.
I probably would be after this, but I couldn’t say that, could I? Then the other Lady joined the fun and grabbed my right ear. They pulled my ears from left to right and up and down.
Have you not been listening?
Forg-i-i-ve me, Mistress … I didn’t underst-a-a-a-a-a-nd!!
He didn’t understand … the bloody nerve … well, I hope you know what a tug of war is!
They went full throttle and were seriously trying to pull my ears off. I screamed hard and they pulled harder. I do not know who won this brutal tug of ears, I only know who lost. I learned my lesson though; since then I am all ears.
A-h-a-a-a-h, Mistress! My e-a-a-a-r!!!
Are you deaf? She shouted.
I probably would be after this, but I couldn’t say that, could I? Then the other Lady joined the fun and grabbed my right ear. They pulled my ears from left to right and up and down.
Have you not been listening?
Forg-i-i-ve me, Mistress … I didn’t underst-a-a-a-a-a-nd!!
He didn’t understand … the bloody nerve … well, I hope you know what a tug of war is!
They went full throttle and were seriously trying to pull my ears off. I screamed hard and they pulled harder. I do not know who won this brutal tug of ears, I only know who lost. I learned my lesson though; since then I am all ears.
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EDUCATING SLAVES
Sending a slave to school to be educated, is like trying to teach an orangutan to sing an aria, or a cactus to run the marathon. Male creatures are below zero, empty vessels frozen in ignorance. The love of their life is their own penis, do I need to say more? Besides, there’s always a risk- however small- that one or two of them will develop a primitive brain of some sorts. They would learn to despise their lot in life, leading to revolutionary sentiments, or, God forbid, resistance, uproar and revolt against the superiority of Women. So no, slaves are not meant to think for themselves, they’re meant to work, obey, serve and suffer. If anything, we should drill them even harder to achieve the highest levels of obedience, efficiency and willingness. A slave doesn’t care if the Nile is wet, that the gestation period of an elephant is 22 months or that the average height for a man in the Netherlands is 186 cm (6’1 ft). He doesn’t care. He’s a simpleton, a mop with a dick, a talking scrotum. A primitive, with primitive needs and wants. He wants to chew and gnaw on boots, wants to be slapped around and wants to swallow spit and piss by the gallon. Let’s keep him simple, for everyone’s sake.
August 2167, Brisbane, Australia – Women’s Convention
August 2167, Brisbane, Australia – Women’s Convention
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FINDING MY FEET
I was shocked when he told me about his submissive feelings. I thought I knew him through and through and then, in the blink of an eye, my whole life was in turmoil. I felt betrayed, does that make sense? But after many talks (and a lot of wine) I agreed to play the role of Mistress on five consecutive Saturdays. The first three were a complete disaster, because I honestly didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. And his whole demeanour changed, I hated that! He was no longer the man I fell in love with, but someone I’d never seen before! We had agreed not to talk about it during the week: no suggestions, no requests, no advice. Thank God for that, because I was well aware I sucked at this.
And then the anger came. All this nonsense about obedience and doing everything for me! Yeah sure! So on the fourth Saturday I ordered him to clean the bathroom. Once finished, I inspected the work and told him I was not satisfied. I ordered him to do it again. To my astonishment he did; the walls, floor, tiles and shower, as if nothing had happened. So I inspected his work again and sneered: “Do you call this cleaning? Do it again and do it properly this time.” And so he did, without a word of complaint. Christ, he even thanked me for it! And then, surely but slowly, it dawned on me: I didn’t need to worry about his suggestions, his ideas and whether or not he liked it. Who the hell was he in the scheme of things? That’s how it all started.
Mistress Selene
And then the anger came. All this nonsense about obedience and doing everything for me! Yeah sure! So on the fourth Saturday I ordered him to clean the bathroom. Once finished, I inspected the work and told him I was not satisfied. I ordered him to do it again. To my astonishment he did; the walls, floor, tiles and shower, as if nothing had happened. So I inspected his work again and sneered: “Do you call this cleaning? Do it again and do it properly this time.” And so he did, without a word of complaint. Christ, he even thanked me for it! And then, surely but slowly, it dawned on me: I didn’t need to worry about his suggestions, his ideas and whether or not he liked it. Who the hell was he in the scheme of things? That’s how it all started.
Mistress Selene
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A PATCH OF GRASS
I can clearly remember the sunlight filtering through the leaves and the smell of freshly cut grass. But I can also remember a feeling of fear and panic, because Karin scissored me with Her legs. This was not the first time, certainly not, but it was by far the worst time. Because She was livid and squeezed the bejesus out of me. The pain was excruciating and something popped in my neck, I’m sure of that. I screamed like a pig.
Don’t move and shut your mouth, She growled.
I obeyed immediately and She loosened up a bit. She was waiting for Lisa, who was chasing after Robin. I honestly can’t remember what we’d done wrong, but it must have been something pretty awful. We waited for about ten minutes for Lisa to return.
Sorry Karin, he got away, Lisa said. She grinned and looked down on me: I see you had more luck.
She kicked me against my back.
Karin is stronger than me, I screamed in panic.
That made them double up with laughter. But Karin’s anger wasn’t over yet. She tightened Her grip a bit, terrifying me almost into a fit.
Did I tell you to speak?
N-o-o-o-o-o, I yelped.
It’s just a small patch of grass underneath a tree. But to me it’s much more than that. Because in spite of the humiliation- or should I say: because of the humiliation- every inch of it is engraved in my memory.
Don’t move and shut your mouth, She growled.
I obeyed immediately and She loosened up a bit. She was waiting for Lisa, who was chasing after Robin. I honestly can’t remember what we’d done wrong, but it must have been something pretty awful. We waited for about ten minutes for Lisa to return.
Sorry Karin, he got away, Lisa said. She grinned and looked down on me: I see you had more luck.
She kicked me against my back.
Karin is stronger than me, I screamed in panic.
That made them double up with laughter. But Karin’s anger wasn’t over yet. She tightened Her grip a bit, terrifying me almost into a fit.
Did I tell you to speak?
N-o-o-o-o-o, I yelped.
It’s just a small patch of grass underneath a tree. But to me it’s much more than that. Because in spite of the humiliation- or should I say: because of the humiliation- every inch of it is engraved in my memory.
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