The Corridor and Other Stories

Pride Goes Before a Fall


Yeah, the way I saw it, it made me look more interesting. I’d been kind of bland before. I posed in front of the dressing table mirror. Yep, I liked it. It was funky. Goddamit I looked cool. Hey, I could pull looking like this. The ladies would be fighting over me…until they discovered I had no nuts that is. Then they’d lose interest, females are like that, only interested in what you have dangling between your legs and all I have is a vacant space where my pride and joys used to be. I wouldn’t mind, but I’d hardly used them.

I was just getting the hang of them when the Lord and Master decreed they had to come off. There was no consultation, no let’s sit down and chat about the pros and cons, just woof, off with his bollocks.

Liam, bondservant of the Lord and Master, argued my corner, or more accurately my cobblers, saying it was cruel and unnatural and what if I died under the knife or complications set in afterwards, none of which had actually occurred to me, and which made me feel even more terrified. He can be a bit of a Job’s comforter at times can Liam. It was all to no avail. The Lord and Master’s word was final, it always is.

On the day of the actual crime Liam managed to spring me. I was caged and awaiting my fate when he craftily slipped the lock and let me out, intending to hide me in a secret location until it was too late for the executioner to execute his dastardly business on my love-rocks. Naturally the Lord and Master was none too pleased at being thwarted. In fact he was totally pissed off because he’d taken time off work especially. Liam courageously refused to divulge my hiding place, so the Lord and Master wreaked terrible vengeance. He put poor Liam under painful torture, hauling him over his knee and applying a burning torch, or hand, as the dominant one refers to it, to his bare bottom until it flamed redder than a gasworks sunset.

Liam sang like a bird. Five minutes later I’m back in the cage and on my way to keep my appointment with the ball bagger and Liam is clapped in irons for the rest of the day, or sent to bed for his own good, as the Lord and Master prefers to call the strange practice. Ah well, at least Liam tried, even if he didn’t hold up terribly well under spanking torture.

I punished the Lord and Master for his officious transgression by withdrawing my affection for several days after the terrible occurrence, refusing to believe his assertions that what had been done, had been done for my own good. As Liam said, he wouldn’t like it if someone robbed his jewel box of its diamonds and then said it was all for charity.

Liam also tried to withdraw his affection so we could stand united against the heartless tyrant, but he soon cracked and sold out for a kiss and cuddle in front of the telly. He is such a pushover sex- junkie slut. When they took the cuddle upstairs to the bedroom I followed and hid under the bed. When they got to the crucial moment, I craftily emerged and sharpened my claws on the Lord and Master’s rhythmically bobbing bare orbs. I don’t know who screamed louder or leapt higher, him or Liam. It gave a whole new meaning to the term: hitting the magic button. Liam was cross-eyed for a week.