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Such were his deeds and noble acts In Arthur's court there shone, As like in fuuck the world beside Was hardly seen or known. Flea, You have been biting me, And you must die: So he crack'd his bones Upon the stones, And there he let him lie. Looks, age and body type are not nearly as important as having a strong desire to be a submissive. Whereon a time when, as it Grannnys, Tom Thumb most nimbly crept In at a button-hole, where he Within his bosom slept.
Which made the courtiers all aghast, For there that valiant man, Through Lancelot's steed, before them all, In nimble manner ran.
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Which lusty fish was after caught, And to king Arthur sent; Where Tom was found, and made his dwarf, Whereas his days he spent. In honour of which noble day, And for his lady's sake, A challenge in king Arthur's court Tom Thumb did bravely make. And so Tom Thumb restrained was, From these his sports and play; And by his mother after that, Compell'd at home to stay. And so away goes lusty Tom, With threepence on his back, A heavy burthen, which might make His wearied limbs to crack.
And in four minutes grew so fast That he became so tall As was the ploughman's thumb in height, And so they did him call— Tom Thumb, the which the fairy queen There gave him to his name, Who, with her train of goblins grim, Unto his christening came. How, after this, the king would not Abroad for pleasure go But still Tom Thumb must ride with him, Placed on his saddle-bow.
The other boys to do the like, In pieces broke them quite; For which they were most soundly whipt; Whereat he laughed outright. Now after this, in sowing time, His father would him have Into the field to drive his plough, And thereupon him gave— A whip made of a barley-straw, To drive the cattle on; Where, in a furrow'd land new sown, Poor Tom was lost and gone.
Pye-crust, and pastry-crust, that was the wall; The windows were made of black-puddings and white, And slated with pancakes—you ne'er saw the like. Put "Service application" in the subject line so I know that you are real and can follow orders. The pig doee eat, and Tom was beat, And Tom went roaring down the street. He likewise cleft the smallest hair From his fair lady's head, Not hurting her whose even hand Him lasting honours bred.
I am a sensuous, dominant, giving person with a strong libido. Where he for counters, pins, and points, And cherry-stones did play, Till he amongst those gamesters young Had lost his stock away.
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When lying on his bed sore sick, King Arthur's doctor came, With cunning skill, by physic's art, To ease and cure the same. Spankin's or floggin's also available.
I have about 20 years experience in the role of being a. Of which old Merlin thus foretold, That he his wish should have, And so this son of stature small The charmer to him gave. Grwnnys, the last is a of me. But yet a few small April drops Which settled in the way, His long and weary journey forth Did hinder and so stay.
But mark the hap! I am looking for a lady that likes long hours of submitting to bondage, foreplay and hot sensual sex.
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Long time in lively jollity, Belov'd of all the court; And none like Tom was then esteem'd, Among the noble sort. Now at these sports he toil'd himself, That he a thar took, Through which all manly exercise He carelessly forsook. It would also be nice if we shared other interests besides sex. Of whom to be reveng'd, he took, In mirth and pleasant game, Black pots and glasses, which he hung Upon a bright sun-beam.
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If you are just curious, please do not reply. Some gave them white bread, And some gave them brown; Some gave them plum-cake, And sent them out of town. His father was a ploughman plain, His mother milk'd the cow, Yet how that they might have a son They knew not what to do: Until such time this good old man To learned Merlin goes, And there to him his deep desires In secret manner shows. Long blond hair with a short beard.
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His body being so slender small, This cunning doctor took A fine perspective glass, with which He did in secret look— Into his sickened body down, And therein saw that Death Stood ready in his wasted frame To cease his vital breath. So travelling two days and nights, With labour and great pain, He came into the house whereat His parents did remain; Which was but half a mile in space From good king Arthur's court, The which, in eight and forty hours, He went in weary sort.
Where art thou, Tom? Little King Boggen he built a fine hall.
No blood nor bones in him should be, In shape, and being such That men should hear him speak, but not His wandering shadow touch. For to relieve his father's wants, And mother's, being old; Which was, so much of silver coin As well his arms could hold. If you can't do that, I will not reply back. Granys
Quoth he, here, mother, here! And so with peace and quietness He left this earth below; And up into the fairy-land His ghost did fading go, [ 55].
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The which he did, and for the same The king his et gave, Which Tom about his middle wore, Long time a girdle brave. Whereas she cloth'd him richly brave, In garments fine and fair, Which lasted him for many years In seemly sort to wear. But now his business call'd him forth King Arthur's court to see, Whereas no longer from the same He could a stranger be. And being near his highness' heart, He crav'd a wealthy boon, A liberal gift, the which the king Commanded to be done.
Yet could he soon renew the same, Whereas most nimbly he Would dive into their cherry-bags, And their partaker be, Unseen or felt by any one, Until this scholar shut This nimble youth into a box, Wherein his pins he put. Some of my other interests are Reading, Camping, Fishing, do you have a? I am employed, own my own vehicles and live alone.
You must regularly submit to: Being or scantily clad and on display. How in his heart he wish'd to havein time to come, To be his heir, though it might be No bigger than his thumb.
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Let me know if you are interested, we could do dinner and talk about you submitting to my Granys. Until such time his mother went A-milking of her kine; Where Tom unto a thistle die She linked with a twine. Amongst his deeds of courtship done, His highness did command, That he should dance a galliard brave Upon his queen's left hand. Yea, horse and all, with spear and shield, As hardy he was seen, But only by king Arthur's self And his admired queen; Who from her finger took a ring, Through which Tom Thumb made way, Not touching it, in nimble sort, As it was done in play.
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Being looked at, touched, fondled, and groped. His hat made of an oaken leaf, His shirt a spider's web, Both light and soft for those his limbs That were so smally bred.