caning – Page 6 – Contemplating the divine

The day she bought the cane

And you know I feel no sorrow. (Warning: video is SFW and unrelated).


Sounds like there’s a good mutual understanding here of what’s important in the relationship.

Sequentially or concurrently?

I dunno… when I do a schoolboy session I can barely concentrate on maths enough to count to six. Which is unfortunate, because I usually have to do that quite a lot.

Raoul likes to take his time over things. Not like me – I’m very quick to get things finished, if I’m given the chance.


She used to be a dominatrix – the pay was better but there’s so much more job satisfaction this way.

Isn’t that a lovely spanking bench, by the way? Ages since we featured one of those here.

… well, the loose approximation of it represented by this blog, anyway.

The holiday, since you ask, was fantastic. It was in one of those picture-perfect resorts, you know, with the palm trees coming down to the powdery sand sloping down to a turquoise lagoon. But not at all crowded – it’s a private beach belonging to the hotel and at the prices I was paying, I can tell you, there’d just better be some serious privacy! And the hotel was as spectacular as the price implied: the rooms, the food, the pool… made a lot of new friends too, apparently.

What do you mean, ‘how do I know’? She sent me a postcard, of course. I mean, I didn’t actually see it until after my release because the kennels don’t allow postal deliveries, but I expect she didn’t know that and it was a very kind thought. She was having so much fun, she hadn’t even put enough postage on it, the silly thing! Had to come out of my pocket money. I’d been saving for.. well, I mustn’t complain.

Another year, another… maybe 550 or so captioned images? It hardly bears thinking about, does it? Better get on…

Stick-fetching is one of those things that sensible husbands quickly learn is not really up for discussion.

You know, I think she might be about to confess her life-long fantasy of making love to a short, slightly overweight guy wearing a frilly french maid outfit. Give her time.

It’s a shame they can’t both win.

Damn. That was going well.

It’s awful wearing a chastity belt on a beach – sands gets in, apparently. Not that I’d know. Sensible concrete floors, that’s what we had in the kennels. Fresh straw on Thursdays.

As specks of dust we’re universal

I love this song. It’s got nothing at all to do with femdom, except in the sense that obviously no male could ever write something so great (unless inspired by a muse, I suppose). So: SFW warning if you click the link, yeah?

Right. On with the poppycock.

Or don’t be brave. To be honest, Trudy doesn’t really mind either way.

Always a bit dull listening to someone describing their dream, isn’t it? Still: better humour her. Don’t want to be whipped.

I wish she didn’t have to as well. So why does she?

After a session with a domme I’d been seeing for a while, I asked what she really thought of me, but she just laughed and told me to fuck off and book a humiliation session. I guess she must have mis-heard.

She’s not really looking to discuss this, by the way. She’s just sharing how she feels – it’s a Mars/Venus thing, yeah guys? Just go with it.

I stand to be corrected

… or I bend over, or I just wriggle slightly in the bonds, making little mmphing pleading sounds.

There are no ‘behavioural problems’, only behavioural opportunities, my SO always says. And I agree with her.

What many men who dabble in men’s lib don’t get is how profoundly offensive it is to women, to suggest that the sexes are equal. I mean, how do you think she’d feel, to be told she’s no better than… well… you?

Hypothermia play! Mmmm….

Actually, I’m more of a leg man. So, with a bit of luck…. oh dear.

Customs change – what was acceptable in times gone by is profoundly offensive nowadays. I went to a stage show the other night which featured an on-stage spanking and I just cringed. I wasn’t even in the front row either – how come I always get picked?

Annhilatrices

You know the ‘trix’ ending is almost the only example I can think of where femdom culture ‘dominates’ the mainstream. In principle, one can speak of an editrix, adminstratrix or investigatrix, but it’s only going to conjure up an image of a lady in leather with a whip. As most things do for me, to be honest, but I’m talking about normal people.

Incidentally, is a female alligator an alligatrix?

Incineratrix

This particular incineratrix is the wonderful Goddess Sophia, who has occasionally been unlucky enough to have raw untreated Servitor spilling out across her dungeon floor, but she always managed to get it under control before too long. A powerful and creative lady.

She’s trying to transform the harsh, uncaring image of the findomme business. Although not too much, obviously, or what would be the point of it?

The ball gag is an essential element in this style of play, to make sure the little horrors don’t go crawling in where they’re not wanted. And to prevent him screaming out his safeword, which ironically enough in this case is ‘arachnophobia’. What’s that you’re asking? ‘What about his nostrils’? Well, don’t be silly – that would block his breathing passages, wouldn’t it? Honestly, how many times must I remind everyone: safety first! That’s rules 1, 2 and 3 in BDSM, yeah? That’s why she’s using the non-poisonous kind, too, see?

Seems a bit soft-hearted to me. I mean, 6/7 of his bottom won’t be beaten at all, most days. I thought she’d take a harder line, to be honest.

Of course, if anyone really hates it, she doesn’t just let them suffer in silence. Quite the contrary, actually.

Tears before, during and after bedtime

It’s actually quite high in calories, but don’t worry about that because you’re unlikely to be able to keep much of it down.

Thank goodness for that. I think you can just leave the case in her capable hands.

I dunno – I find shops vary in the degree to which they are kink-friendly. Once I was sent to find some gear for an adult baby session and for some reason the staff in the ‘early years’ shop got all weird about it when I started asking about how strong their leather reins sets were, and whether the cots could be fitted with padlocks. But then on another occasion, I had to buy a hairbrush and the shop assistant in the department store I went to was delighted to help me try every one of them out. Said it was something she wished she could do to more customers. So you never know.

Silly boys. Reinforced seat trousers do little good when they’re around your ankles, anyway.

Male brains don’t multi-task. Mine barely tasks at all, to be honest. Now then: I was writing a caption..?

The power and the glory

Goodness. I hope I don’t have to say too many Hail Marys.

There’s an interesting philosophical point there, actually. Can one ‘show’ nothing? Or is ‘nothing’ merely the absence of showing? Taking the thought experiment further, can one be ‘nothing’? My SO says one can, and one is, so that point is fairly settled.

Icelandic femdom is complicated. But worth it for those interested in play that involves being subjected to extremes of hot and cold, as well as eating raw fish.

Lots of men get quite nervous before their first time with her. And full-on hysterically terified before all subsequent sessions.

Finishing with a religious theme too. The movie Valentines Day is highly recommended. Taylor, Anne… Mostly vanilla, obviously, but there is even a very brief femdomination scene, with Anne being a phone sex Russian domme with a rubber band.

Captivating ladies

Actually, unlike many men with small penises, I don’t obsess about it and feel inadequate and ashamed about its size. My feelings of inadequacy and shame are much more broadly-based than that.

It’s just to redress the balance. Men are no good at empathy. Not like women: my SO always knows when I’m hurting badly, no matter how much I try to conceal it.

It’s much shorter than my punishment song – which has seventeen verses. Even though I’ve never considered myself a good singer, my SO usually enjoys it so much she ‘asks’ for an encore. Sometimes two.

Lucky bastard – he’s going to be experiencing his top sexual fantasy for the rest of his life.

The gentlemen in the picture likes to claim he is ‘very experienced in BDSM’ but actually, he’s about to discover there’s a lot more to it than he had ever imagined.

She says…

… now baby just you shut your mouth.

Not complaining. It’s just that I usually make it through the first three minutes without one, that’s all.

Try to be reasonable. She is. She sees good in everyone actually – a rare gift.

Obviously, it’s all perfectly consensual. She asked for her husband to be beaten. And she’s got a safeword – you know, just in case it goes too far.

My SO and I are actually playing what I’m fairly sure is the longest game of tease and denial ever right now. We started on our wedding night and it’s just amazing. I tried calling the Guinness Book of Records people but they said it didn’t count because I am such a sad little loser.

Downton domination. More of these to come.

Fear and loving

They go together so well. More common than you might think.

In the – very unlikely – event that it does start giving you punishment-level shocks, there’s a helpline you can call that’s open every single day between 10 and 4, and usually only has a very short waiting time. So… nothing to worry about.

That’s the thing about a good thrashing with a cane: it’s so straightforward. You know where you stand (corner, usually).

And there’s some lubricant in case any chafing symptoms emerge, for whatever reason.

Don’t worry: she’s planning to consummate the marriage. Just not with you.

I’ve always thought the mens lib movement would be much more effective if they just recognised reality and put a woman in charge. But they like to try to do things by themselves, bless them.

Category: caning