I found this on the net, printed it out on card and it is now ready to hang on MY bedroom door handle when a girlfriend next spends the night.
On Sunday, while I ate my lunch (prepared by bitch-boy), I had him
clean the bathroom. I told him to make a very good job of it. I think he knew
what I meant by that.
So my lunch finished and time to inspect the cleaning. I found one
of my hairs on the bath panel. Having informed bitch-boy that meant a caning
for slovenliness, I lifted the toilet seat and told him it was his lunch time.
He sighed so deeply and looked so sad.
The next ten minutes were spent with me dropping a spoonful of
cherry yoghurt onto the white china rim of the toilet and him licking that off.
Again and again until the yoghurt pot was empty. This is something I do quite
often so I assume he had properly cleaned the rim of the toilet in expectation.
His choice. It is delightful to look down at him, while his head dips down to
lick away, and all the while I verbally abuse him.
Once his lunch was consumed, it was time for the caning.
Last night I had bitch-boy cook the fillings for crispy taco shells from scratch. He
knelt on the floor while I ate mine. Then I turned to his plate of four tasty
Tacos, (which had gone a bit cold by then). I cuffed his wrists behind him
and then dropped a taco on the slate floor between by patent leather boots.
He looked so sad when I crushed the taco under the sole of my boot. And
sadder still when I dropped spit onto the resultant mess. First he had to thank
me, and then he had to lick the sole of the boot clean and then lick the food
from the floor, while I laughed. The fun was repeated with each of his tacos.
Drop, crush, spit, ‘thank you’, boot clean, floor clean. My favourite moments are when I hear the crunching sound as I push downwards with my boot. It feels and sounds so
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