2019-05-14

Cold Feet

Well, do you want to become my slave, or not? Then enter city hall with me and get the registration done. For the thousandth time, no, I can’t guarantee you that I won’t keep your cock locked up in your chastity cage forever, since once you become my slave, no such promise would be legally binding any more. You have to take a leap of trust.
Welcome back home, my dear. I can’t believe we finally did it. The good news it: now that you are my slave, you’ll never have to wear your chastity cage again. The bad news is: I’ll have your penis removed, the surgeon is about to arrive any minute now. I’m so glad and proud you didn’t get cold feet this morning.
Are you still mad at me? Come on, it’s been a week since you had it removed, by now, you should be used to it. Stop pouting, or you’ll have an appointment with a neurosurgeon to remove your ability to pout. I wonder: if you are so unlucky with being my slave, why did you become my slave in the first place?
Yes, I expect you to cook. And to clean and to wash and to iron, besides earning money with your regular job. What else should I do with a slave like you? Sex? That’s obviously no longer possible. Now excuse me, I’ll have to seduce more men to become my slaves. I guess from now on, we will rarely see each other.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Nothing To See Here

After the great Tumblr apocalypse, I decided to try out Blogger as a new home for my captions, but I found the experience rather frustrating...