Senseful brutality


Well.. someone might mind, actually.  But no one who matters.








Goodness, what a large one.  As no woman has ever said to me, in my entire life. More seriously, though, I really, really like this caption. If you don’t like this one then you are probably ‘reading’ the wrong femdom blog, because as far as I’m concerned, this is as good as it gets (sorry).


Actually, I stopped complaining to Mum when I realised she was always going to take my sister’s side.  And obviously there was no point complaining to Dad – he tried to stick up for me once, and we both got a spanking for his trouble.

 

Looking?  Looking where?








Actually, I really like this one too…

Special delivery

 
Yes, it’s from Harold. Listen to this, Marion:
My dearest Bess.  I write these words in haste.  I hope you are well and have not been too worried
by
my unexpected absence.  If you are reading this missive then I have the joy to announce that our enforced separation can at last be ended.
You see, my love, there has been the most monstrous misunderstanding.  The uncle of yours, to whom you suggested I apply for a position, appears to have been under the impression that I was a potential pupil for a school of which he acts as governor.  I  am not aware of the precise location, but somewhere on a bleak moor in Derbyshire, I am enrolled in a boys’ boarding school! 
In vain, I have pointed out that I am no schoolboy, but an independent gentleman of 25 years, recently contracted in the blissful state of wedlock with a beautiful young lady. Yet the school , it seems, caters to delinquent young men and the headmaster appears to assume that I am one such.  I have ceased to protest for fear of his cane, which he and the staff use viciously to deal with any minor infraction or even annoyance.  Most of my ‘class’ appear to be well into the age of majority, and have advised me to ‘buckle down and take it’, so beaten into submission are their poor spirits.
My own spirit is flagging somewhat, I will admit, under the oppression I suffer daily.  As you know, dearest Bess,
since I recall you remarking on it with a smile when I mentioned the fact, my own school had a more progressive outlook and so the canings, cold showers and country runs are taking a terrible toll on my physique, not to mention my mental state, which alternates between terror of a forthcoming thrashing and tedium as I complete the mindless rote-learning tasks that pass for instruction in this benighted institution.  I have been here not more than three weeks, yet already I have written over five thousand lines!  Yes, my dearest, lines: it apears modern educational theories have yet to reach whatever godforsaken corner of Northern England holds me captive.
Furthermore, several of the tutors take… liberties with the ‘boys’ that I will not commit to paper for fear of being prosecuted for penning an obscene publication – and are in so sense fit to mention to a young lady, even one with
such enlightened ideas as I was pleased if somewhat shocked to experience on our wedding night.  
I am handing this missive to a groundsman, to whom I have entrusted the last of my secreted funds. I can only
hope and pray you see it and intervene with your uncle before the end of the week, when I have been promised the thrashing of a lifetime.
I kiss the air and pray for your well-being, my love, my only dearest. 

Your ever-faithful
Harold.
Goodness. Marion, my darling, will you bring me paper and pen?  I need to write to my uncle.  Is the boy who delivered this still waiting downstairs?
Excellent.  Give him some supper.  Tell him I want him personally to deliver my letter to Uncle Frederick, will you?  I’m sure Uncle Fred will enjoy dealing with him himself.  Honestly: taking money from pupils to deliver letters.  You can’t trust anyone these days. 
Oh – and that reminds me: we need to pay Harold’s school-fees for the rest of the year.  Apparently after this first year, we can set up a trust which pays the fees in perpetuity, so we don’t need to be bothered with it again.
But we can sort that out tomorrow.  Run my bath, will you Marion dearest?  And get in: I’ll join you there when I’m done with this.

Lachrymatrices



The annoying thing is, I only bought the car last week. But I guess I can do without it.  It’s essential to prioritise, when making important financial decisions.
She doesn’t mean the bondage. He likes the bondage.  It’s the things she can do to him because he is in bondage that he won’t like.

There used to be a brand of condoms that fitted me just perfectly, but the manufacturer decided to stop producing that particular size.  Not enough demand for it, apparently.  Over 20% of men are that size or less, but they make up only 0.3% of all sexual encounters, so… I can’t really blame them.

And she’ll decide whether you really really need it, or not.
My wife’s very sexually demanding too, but I don’t have too much difficulty keeping her satisfied: the local male escort agencies all give us loyalty discounts now and if I book in advance as well, I can get up to a 25% off the list price. Which is – just about – affordable on my salary, if I’m careful to economise on everything else.


Ladies in red


Men’s libbers are actually firmly opposed to being spanked.  Most men are, actually.  But they always end up thankful for it.





I once paid a prostitute to have sex with me – booked with a credit card.  But when I opened the door to her, she looked me up and down, dug around in her purse, handed me the same amount in cash and walked off.  Which could actually be quite handy some time, if I’m ever somewhere with no ATMs.
Never try puppy play alongside an actual dog.  They’re better at it. Much the same goes for sex and real men.  Don’t even try – you’ll just look foolish.  And you wouldn’t want that.

 

Except that she’s started by using social media to advertise, so her first clients are precisely likely to be your friends.  And your close family members.

She’s sneaked a tub of lube into the bottom of your tuck box.  You know: to make the first few days a bit easier.  She’s kind like that.


They think it odd and Sodom and Gomorrah-ble

Isn’t it delectable?

My SO can be scatterbrained like that.  Just last week was supposed to be my annual orgasm and the silly thing forgot it completely!  How we laughed when she realised the next day why I’d been looking so anxious. She still smiles when she thinks about it…
Abusive behaviour can develop slowly – or can be quite quick, starting almost as soon as one hands over the bag containing the champagne and the envelope with the tribute money. 


Tried it.  What now?  Hmm?
The rules can be quite strict.  I tried to change my name to my wife’s and they wouldn’t allow it. Isn’t that ridiculous – in this day and age?  Apparently “Mywifes” is not an officially recognised christian name.

 

Well, I hope she’s prepared to let him stay for the whole session, even if he did underpay.

Good morning




Good morning, darling!  Happy honeymoon!  Aww… you’re down on your knees, how sweet!  Are you going to give me a lovely little kiss?




Good morning, darling?  Now where are my morning kisses, hmm?








Well, you’re not going to be able to greet me properly from all the way up here, are you darling?  Down you go.




Just on the top of the stocking today, I think darling.  I’m still cross with you.




Hmm? No… no particular reason. I just thought it would be nice to have my morning kiss at the back for a change.






Kiss!








   

Come on, hurry up.  You’ve got chores.
Well, I’m not going to get up just for your convenience, am I darling?  Just kiss the knee – no: the ankle.
Kiss!


So, anyway, Karen had a headache and went home early, so I had both of them to myself and – hmm?  Noise, what noise?  Oh: it’s nothing, just my husband saying good morning.  Anyway, they had me kneel on all fours and…






Hurry up, darling.  There’s something I need to discuss with you.








No, I’m fed up with you slobbering all over my shoes.  You can kiss the floor.






And kiss the cane, too, to show me how grateful you are.

Kiss, then tell me how many you think you deserve today.

Hmm? Oh – good morning. Actually, it’s not morning but I suppose you weren’t to know that.  Anyway, I just thought I’d let you know that I’ll be away for a few weeks, so I’ll fill the food hopper and put your shock collar on automatic.  Oh – and it’s our anniversary on Tuesday – that’s the day after tomorrow. Your shock collar will be going on and off on all day, to make sure you don’t sleep. You’ve so much to be grateful for, I thought you wouldn’t want to miss a second of it.     







Subination and dommission





Time to put those bra-fastening skills to work!  You trained for years for this – don’t mess it up.







My SO likes card tricks. There’s this one she does where I pick a card and I get the number of strokes of the strap equal to the number on the card.  Then she picks a card and I get the number of strokes of the cane shown on the card.  Then it’s my pick again, and so on. It’s not such a great trick, but she always finds it amusing.











I find the gentle touch of the electrodes somehow quite reassuring and comforting.  It’s like – I don’t have to worry about making my own decisions, you know?  Plus, every second they’re not making me scream in pain is a bonus, so they make you appreciate the moment.












Big break, Pansykins!  Do this right, you might be promoted to skivvy.









Ah… they’re going to play at being sailors.


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