16 July 2008
The Love Dungeon
“Here we are, Botter,” I boomed in a loud, steady voice, “This is…THE LOVE DUNGEON!”
“Crikey!” chirped Botter as he followed me out of the secret passageway, and into the new room.
‘Crikey’ was hardly a befitting exclamation with which to convey the required admiration and respect for this den of debauchery. ‘Holy Cocking Shit’, or ‘Fucking Twatting Hell’ would have been far more appropriate, I felt.
The Love Dungeon was installed beneath the Likely Mansion by Lord William Knott-Likely in the seventeenth century. Lord William is something of an embarrassment to the proud Likely name, as he was one of the few Likelys to have been born without the dashing good looks which befit our proud lineage; and to cap it all he was cursed with an incredibly tiny penis, leading to his unfortunate nickname ‘Little Willy’.
With the odds stacked so highly against him, Lord William found courtship somewhat difficult, with ladies repulsed by his vulgar features and complete lack of charm or girth. More often than not, ladies would flee from Lord William as soon as he approached them, sometimes taking the rather extreme measures of emigrating, lest they beheld his deformities any more.
Lord William became rather annoyed at this turn of events, and this annoyance led to anger, which in turn lead to a furious rage, leading him to full-on barking insanity, which set in motion the construction of the Love Dungeon, with William theorizing that women would not be able to run away from him if he kept them chained up in a dank cellar beneath his house.
The dungeon was completed within a month, and upon its completion Lord William sent out his man-servant to kidnap ladies in the middle of the night, and bring them back to the estate. Clearly holding something of a grudge against the female gender, Lord William filled the dungeon with terrible instruments of torture, and took great delight in meting out cruel and depraved punishments upon his petrified prisoners, which he found incredibly arousing.
Lord William’s awful deeds carried on for the best part of a year, until someone in the neighbouring village realised that there were a lot less women walking about, and set about trying to track them down. A group of locals followed Lord William’s man-servant on one of his kidnapping missions, and followed him back to the Likely Estate, where they were shocked to discover the Love Dungeon chock-full of less-than happy young ladies.
Lord William was driven from his home and spent his last days wandering the country, sticking his penis into anything he came across. As his mental state worsened, he wound up trying to have sex with a furnace, and died shortly thereafter.
Like I say, he was something of an embarrassment to the proud Likely name.
Since then, the Love Dungeon has remained closed off, until a few years ago when I reopened it, but refurnished it as a place for pleasure, and not pain (well, maybe a bit of pain, I confess). I destroyed Lord William’s awful instruments of torture, and replaced them with various elaborate sex-toys instead, such as The Spinning Fanny Slapper, The Spunk Cannon, The Hump-Hammock, The Whirling Titty Tickler, The Box of Delights, The Steam-Powered Flange Thudder and The Iron Maiden’s Mother-In-Law. And, naturally, I do not need to send Botter out to abduct local women either. If anything, ladies queue up to sample the delights of the Love Dungeon these days, and there is quite a waiting list for admissions.
“So, what do we do now, milord?” Botter asked, examining a three-pronged cock trident on a rack beside him.
“That is a surprisingly good question for one so naturally inclined towards idiocy,” I replied, straightening up a suit of armour sporting a rather hefty strap-on. “We cannot well stay hidden down here forever. Not without you getting some funny ideas.”
“I suppose not,” Botter said, running his hands across an anal battering ram.
“We need to do something, Botter!” I cried, sitting down on the edge of Dr. Ignoble Buttocks’ Patented Cock-Stretching Cock Rack. “We are so close to reclaiming the Likely Estate from those terrible Italian fellows. If only we were better equipped to overcome them…if only we were armed! What I wouldn’t give to have a sturdy weapon in my hand right this instant!”
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud crashing sound, as Botter knocked over a stand housing various sex-aids, sending the various implements of intercourse spilling onto the floor.
“Good heavens!” I exclaimed, as I picked up a Double-Ended Backdoor Invader from off of the ground.
“I…I’m sorry, milord,” Botter apologised profusely. “Please don’t hurt me!”
“Hurt you?” I beamed. “Why, I could kiss you if you weren’t so god-awfully grotesque! Botter, gather up as many of these wonderful tools as you can carry…I think I have a rather excellent plan!…”
- Lord Likely.
humor-blogs.com never leaves home without carrying a Clockwork Cock Tickler.
My increasingly inept scribe, Mr. A.D Fanton, has relaunched his comic strip-based inter-net web-site The Carrotty Kid this week, and urges you all to visit it and marvel at the wonders within. However, he has already run into a spot of bother with the new venture, which could also affect my fine journals themselves! If you can spare a moment, and maybe a ha’penny, visit The Digital Sickbag or www.thecarrottykid.co.uk and join in with Carrot Aid this instant! Many thanks!
