A turning point – maybe

 

What?  No I’m not.  Well…maybe I am.  It’s complicated.  I mean, yes I am a
model, but I haven’t gone by the name “Alison Lawson” for years.  I’m Ali Landry now.  I was Miss America – now I’m a – well, I’m a ‘supermodel’, I
guess.  Sounds really fancy, but, you know – that’s what the magazines call me.

Alison Lawson was just a stage name when I used to do these
glamour shoots for fetish sites, before I really made it.  I was always a stern nanny type – spanking
naughty boys, putting them in diapers, dressing them up in little girls’ clothes and making them stand in the corner.  That kind of thing – not the harsh dominatrix in leather.  I had this kind of loving discipline image, I think.   It was a bit weird at first, but it paid the
rent while I was building my portfolio with the fashion shoots.  The great thing about that kind of fetish is that you don’t have to go naked – that can really kill a career in fashion modelling.

Strict old Alison Lawson. 
God… that really takes me back. Anyway – always good to meet a fan.
What’s your name?

Really?  No way!  You’re Emma’s fiancé!  Oh wow! 
Well I’m Ali, aren’t I?  Her
oldest friend.  She must have talked
about me?

Yes, I thought so. 
She’s told me everything about you!


Well…maybe not everything, come to think of it.  I think I might know something she doesn’t, hmm?

 
With apologies to the divine Ms Landry, who – to the eternal regret of perverts everywhere – almost certainly did not start her career modelling spanking shoots as a strict nanny called Alison Lawson.  I say ‘almost certainly’ because I will admit I have not actually checked.

Taking it slowly at first


Darling, I’ve been thinking about what you told me on
Saturday.  About your need to be…
dominated.  Sexually.


Look. 
I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.  It was just…a bit of a shock, you know?  It’s not really something I know a lot about, and it just sounded kind of weird and scary… and I guess I just didn’t want to hear that this was happening.  That this wasn’t really my husband saying these things.  You know?

But…I went to look at those web sites you suggested. And a few
more.  And… well, you know, it’s really
not my thing.  Really, really not.  But, darling, you’re my husband and I love you.  And if that’s what’s going
to make you happy, I think we should try it.

Oh darling, calm down.  It’s OK.  Really it is.

Only…it’s all very new to me, so you’ll have to be patient
with me at first, OK?  I don’t think I
can do all of it.  Not straight away.  I mean like dressing
up in leather and rubber and stuff like that. 
I don’t think I can do that. 
We don’t have to, do we?

Great.  Because that’s
a bit too much for me.  Maybe later.  When I’m used to it.

But I was reading about these husbands who dress up in
maids’ outfits and do all the housework. 
That seemed all right.  Shall we try that?  And I’m supposed
to punish you if it’s not done to my satisfaction, right?  With a cane or something?

Or a paddle.  Sure –
whatever.  I’m OK with that.

Oh – and financial domination too.  I could do that, I think.  We’d get your company to pay your salary into
my account, and I’ll control all the money – keep a tight rein on your
spending.  Maybe give you an allowance
each week; or just make you ask me if ever you want to buy anything.  Cane you if you spend any money without my permission.


“Or paddle”?  For that one as well?  OK, sure.  Doesn’t have to be a cane, I suppose.  Not every time.
 
I read a lot about financial domination.  It does sound kind of fun, actually.  So we can do that.

Anyway, erm…I’ve drawn up a ‘slave contract’.  With stuff about the housework and finances
and the punishment thing.  (I’ve written
‘cane’ actually, in the section about punishments, but we can make that ‘cane or paddle’ if you like.)  And cuckoldry – that’s a very femdom thing
too, right?  So you’ll enjoy that.  It’ll be better for me, too,
because you’ll be in chastity, and that way I don’t have to keep unlocking you
and locking you up again every time I want to make love.

But no more than that, at first, OK?  Just so we can take it slowly, for me.  I’ve included in the contract the right of
Mistress to change the terms anyway, so we can maybe put in a few more things as I
get more confident with it.

Shall I print the contract out now?  So we can sign?  I’ll add that thing about the paddle first.
 
 

Just a short one

 

Oh darling, there was a telephone call for you earlier.  One of those lifestyle surveys that
advertisers use.  I said we weren’t interested and you were busy
doing your chores, but they were very insistent.  Apparently, you’re an important demographic
for them.  Goodness knows why.  So I said I’d answer for you, so they won’t
keep calling back, you know.

Let me see now… what did they want to know?  They asked about hobbies so I said cleaning, ironing
and cooking.  They asked about your sex
life, so I told them you didn’t have one. 
They asked if there were any purchases that you always make sure you
never run out of, so of course I said tampons, because you know how cross I get
if you don’t have them ready for me.  Oh
– and they asked about disposable income so I said you get five pounds a week
in pocket money if you’ve been good.

They lost interest after that, I think, because they just
finished up the survey and rang off.

 
 
Sorry that was so disappointingly short.
 
Wow – I just had a really overwhelming sense of deja vue!  Because I’m sure I’ve typed that exact same sentence before.   But I think this is the first time I’ve posted such a short story as a stand-alone item, so I’ve no idea when that can have been.  Isn’t that weird!  Do you ever get that?
 
Oh well. I expect it’ll come to me.

Secret admirer


 


Oh darling, before we start playing – here’s something you’ll
like.

You have a secret admirer! 
No, really.  You know those photos
of you tied to the bed that we posted to the blog, ages ago?  Well, there’s this woman – at least she
claims to be a woman – who runs a blog where she posts captioned photos and
stories and stuff.  And she’s used a lot
of your pictures – oh, in at least 15 posts now.


It’s a bit different from our domestic discipline blog –
much heavier and darker stuff.  Like
castration, torture, snuff – that kind of thing.  She’s really clever, though – you wouldn’t
believe some of the creative ways she has you killed, in some of the
stories.  There’s one where you have your
eyes pecked out by a trained crow, and then you die of starvation after being
led into a pit by her voice.  And there’s
another where you’re nailed to a board, and then she hangs it up on the wall and masturbates looking up at you dying.


Yeah, I know.  Well I did say it was quite dark, didn’t I?  I don’t think I found a single story in which
you managed to keep your balls by the end, for example.  It’s amazing how many different ways she
knows to remove them.  The crow features in one of those too – she’s photoshopped it into one of the pictures of you.  It’s rather good, actually – you’d really think there was a bird between your legs.  She doesn’t try to show any actual action, of course, that would just look fake.  But it’s pretty menacing, especially once you know what happens in the rest of the story.


I’ll give you the address and you can have a look for yourself.  It’s called Boymeat, or something like that.

How did I find it?  Oh, I don’t know.  Just playing around on the Internet.  There’s so much weird stuff around, isn’t there?

Anyway, someone out there thinks you’re really sexy!  Pretty exciting, huh?  Maybe I should be jealous of her!

If it really is a her.

You ready now?  I
thought we might try a little teasing tonight.

Crossover


Hi there!  Listen, have you ever thought about how it must be for porn stars who aren’t in the femdom ‘scene’ who do an occasional femdom shoot?

I don’t mean those porn stars who just don’t have a clue about femdom – who pose around in some bit of leather or holding a whip, before getting naked and screwing some guy.

No, I mean girls who can do femdom properly – but just not very often.  By ‘properly’ I mean just punishing the guy and demeaning him and stuff like that.  And never letting him fuck her. 

Me, for example.  Hi!  This is me doing a spanking scene.



Exciting isn’t it?  And you can get on over to Clare Spanks Men and get more of that.  Servitor did and he’s hardly able to walk for wanking so hard.  Here’s another:



Stern, aren’t I?  But I’m not a domme.  I’m a mainstream porn star.  See – this is also me.  Actually, this is the sort of thing I spend more of my time doing than the ‘stern’ thing:



Or this…



And there are some even more revealing pictures out there – of me naked, or me having sex.  Videos too!  Vaginal, anal, oral.  A lot of oral…my lips lovingly wrapped around fat, veined cock.  But the little submissive who runs this blog isn’t allowed to show pictures like that.  They’re only for real men, you see.

And that, in a nutshell, is my point.  You can fantasise about my being some stern governess type if you like, or a hard-ass fitness trainer like this:



or a stern boss:



…and if that was the only thing I ever did, like a lot of spanking models and dommes, maybe that would be OK.  Of course I’m unapproachable, of course I’m an ice maiden, of course I don’t have the slightest interest in you as a man or in the thing in your pants, except as a possible cause of your habitual disobedience and thoughtlessness.  Of course – because I’m dominant and you’re submissive.

(Did you enjoy that? I was belittling and humiliating you.  You creepy little guy) 

Maybe you’d think that at the end of the shoot, I give a cheerful couple of extra spanks, and at weekends I go off to fetish parties with my friends in the scene.  Then it’s not so embarrassing to fantasise about my spanking you, is it?

But!  But but but, how much more humiliating is it to know that when I’m not behaving like that in the shoots and videos you fantasise to, I’m behaving like this on other sites?



…or even like this:

 
(yes, the panties do keep coming down.  But only on sites for real men.  So you don’t get to see anything more.)


Or even this – I think I can just about allow Servitor to post this one, although it’s not enormously deferential to what you submissive little creeps consider the superior sex:



and there’s more.  I fuck, I suck, I cum…you know, I do the normal things that normal guys want porn stars to do. 

…but having seen all that – and knowing that I will and do ‘put out’ for men who can actually cope with that sort of thing – how do you think I feel about this guy?


(Do you think when I’ve finished smacking this guy’s ass, I push him off and breathe out heavily and say – oh wow, baby!  That was fucking wild!  No. I don’t.  Because I’m treating him like a fucking naughty boy, not a lover, not a man.)


..or this one:


(Do I look like I’m in a state of sexual arousal in this picture?  Feel free to refer to some of my non-pervert photos further up, if you’re unsure about the answer).


And…finally (because although I’m sure you’re not tired of pictures of me, I’m certainly tired of talking to you) how do you think I feel about you?  About the ‘men’ who get more turned on by my shouting fully clothed at some little wimp before putting him over my lap, than you do by my fucking some stud of a guy?

How do you think I feel about you?

Knowing, that while this – and more – is readily available online to men who get turned on by real sex…




 
(well, I can’t really show little pansies like you the full scene you understand, but here’s a couple of scenes cropped so you can only see my face. You have to imagine what  else is going on.)


…and there are plenty where that big wide open mouth of mine is full, too.  Not for you, though.

But the only use of my mouth and tongue you’re going to get is to scold you.  Like a naughty child:


…and this is the closest you’re ever going to get to between my legs:



I’m a real woman and I like to fuck real men.  So much, I’ve made a career out of it.  Men all over the world fantasise about me going to bed with them, fucking them, sucking their cocks… And you are… what?  Fantasising about the big strong Australian girl with the muscular thighs smacking your bottom and telling you off as you lie across her lap.  Pathetic.

Humiliated?  You deserve it.

The part of the porn star in this tale was played by the astonishing Gigi Allens.  All these photos are of her, and I think we can agree that she is indeed an example of that very rare breed: a mainstream model and porn star who really can dominate.  I have no idea if her opinion about that – and about us- is as presented here.  But you know… it just might be.
 
All domination photos are from Clare Spanks Men.  Try it – if enough of you do, they might forgive me for using so many of their photos.  It’s good, anyway.  
 
The vanilla photos are from all over the place, so don’t even ask.  You shouldn’t be looking for that sort of smut anyway.





At the hairdressers



Hi honey!

What?  Oh, my poor embarrassed baby!  You haven’t been worrying about that all day,
have you, honey?

Listen – if that’s what makes you feel sexy, it’s fine with
me, OK?  But I just need you to wash the trainers
out each time you do it, before I use them again, that’s all.

Oh, really?  Well, honey, you know
I run every day, so I guess they’ll get stinky again pretty quickly, won’t they?
Not stinky enough?  Awww… I’m sorry honey.  But you know, it’s not nice for me when I want to go for a run, if you’ve spurted all over the inside, see, and –


Oh – hey!  I just had
a brilliant idea.  Why don’t we keep an
old pair of my trainers for you to come in? 
You could sniff the pair 
I’m using as much as you like, but then when you jerk off you’d do it into one of the old ones.  Then I
wouldn’t have to worry about finding my new trainers all sticky! 


Yeah?  That works?

Oh – if I force you, huh?  Honey, you’re really pretty kinky aren’t you!  Sure – I can force you.  I’ll tie your hands behind your back and force your face down onto my stinky trainers with my foot – how about that?

Yeah – I thought you’d like that.  Or I could tie you to the bed and leave one over your face all night. Yeah, you betta believe it.  All night, honey.  Not in my bed, obviously.  I’m not sleeping with a smelly old trainer in the bed.  But I can put you in the guest bedroom.

What’ll I do?  Oh, I’ll be OK.  No, really. It’s OK honey.   
I mean, it’s not like our sex life was great anyway and – oh, I’m not
blaming you, honey!  It’s not your fault
you’re so small.  But I think we’ll both
be happier if you don’t have to try to please me in bed any more.  I was thinking anyway of telling you not to bother – I mean, it just makes you all embarrassed and ashamed, and it does nothing for me so –

Hmm?  No honey, that’s
just Mario talking.  I’m at the
hairdressers.

Not these, honey.  These are mine, OK?

Well of course he heard, honey, but don’t be silly about it. 
Mario wouldn’t say a thing. 
Hairdressers know how to keep secrets – don’t you Mario?  Anyway, I told him weeks ago about our wedding
night, so he already knows half the story.
Well sure, honey.  About all the condoms being too big to stay on and how you had to ask at the hotel reception for extra small and all that.  He was really sympathetic, even though he’s never had the problem himself.  Just the opposite, actually.
What? Oh, I didn’t mean anything by that, honey.  Just talking nonsense.  I do when I’m at the hairdresser’s.  Listen, anyway, we need to get my trainers cleaned up.  If you won’t wash them, then I guess you’re going to have to lick it out, aren’t you?  Yes, now, honey.  You got them there? OK, well you’re going to have to put the phone down to get your face right in there and lick it all out, OK?

Oh – hang on!  Before you hang off, my old trainers are in the closet by the kitchen door, OK?  Those are what you use for playing with yourself, honey, not the new ones!  I mean it!

That’s right.  OK, honey, have a good time.  I’ll be back quite late – maybe not until nine or so.  I’m having some complicated hair treatments today.  I expect you’ll find something to amuse yourself with until I’m back.  Won’t you?

Bye!

See honey?  This is where you’ll be making love from now on.  You’ll always have a choice between two sexy lovers who’ll never tell you you’re too small, and they don’t mind how quickly you come!  Do you wanna give them names?  I think you should give them names.

Consequences

A ‘turning points’ story.



Darling, can we talk about last night?  About the party?

Yes, I know you had a bit too much to drink.  That’s what I want to talk about.

No, you were fine.  Just a little tipsy.  Not like Mark.  You weren’t being drunk or embarrassing, or anything like that.  I just wanted to talk to you about the game.

The game of ‘consequences’, of course.  Have you forgotten playing?  We did one round, just before the Saxtons went home.

I’ve got all the strips of paper here, you see?  I got them out of the wastepaper bin.  Now – you had a blue pen, didn’t you?

Oh don’t try to pretend darling, yes you did, I know you did.

Right, so let’s have a look, shall we?  Hmm…let me see.  I’ll just unfold them.  That one’s OK, you went first but um…yes!  What about this one?  I’ll read it out.

“President Obama” met “Humphrey the Cat” in “a cattle market in Australia”.  He said to her “There are better cakes in Portsmouth” (that’ll be Mark, of course.  Anyway, doesn’t matter.) She said to him “That’s six of the best with my cane – pull your shorts down!”  And the consequence was “the Bee Gees reformed and released a Garage album.”

You don’t remember which of those was yours?  OK, let’s try another.

“Mr Tickle” met “a strict headmistress, flexing her cane menacingly”, in “Transylvania”.  He said to her – well, it doesn’t really matter, does it?  I do recognise my husband’s handwriting.

Or this.

“Adam Ant” met “Seven of Nine” in “Cardiff”.  He said to her “the flowers that bloom in the spring, trala, have nothing to do with the case”.  She said to him “Because reasons”.  And the consequence was “She put him across her knee, and spanked his naughty bottom until it glowed.”

Honestly, I could have died of embarrassment when we read them all out.  Mark whispered to Gerry that you should be sent to bed early with a smacked bottom!  And everyone heard him.  Everyone except you, apparently.

If it was just a joke, it was a very silly one.  But perhaps there’s something we need to discuss, is there, darling?  Because if you want me to put you across my knee and spank your naughty bottom until it glows, believe me – you’ve picked a very good day to find out what it feels like!

Temper temper



Oh hi darling!  Locked myself out again!  So annoying – I mean, I knew you’d be coming home late today.

Actually, I’m having a bad day all round.  I lost my temper earlier on, and I’m still on edge.  You see, I went to buy some new boots, and –

– well no, not these boots actually, darling.  That’s the point of the story.  I do wish you wouldn’t interrupt.  You know how cross it makes me. Just listen, will you –


Anyway, I saw this lovely pair of boots – like these ones! – at lunchtime, so I bought them and I thought I’d wear them straight away, but when I got back to the office, what do you think I found?

No, of course you have no idea, darling.  It’s a rhetorical question.

Anyway, I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it before, but I suddenly noticed they were all scuffed, at the side around the top of the keel.  I mean really scuffed – not just marks, but the leather had come up ragged in a few places.  And they’d obviously been like that when I bought them, because all I’d done was walk along the road to the office – it’s only ten minutes, you know, from that little row of shops near St Pauls.

So I went back after work, and I found the shop assistant who’d sold them to me – rather a creepy little guy, actually!  And he was smiling and nodding in that obsequious way they have, you know, and calling me ‘madam’ but then he said he couldn’t change them!  And I said why not, and he said because he couldn’t be sure that the damage hadn’t happened after I’d bought them!

I mean – really!  He was practically accusing me of lying!

Anyway, I just saw red.  You know how I get.  And I was just shouting at him, at the top of my voice… and I grabbed his head and I forced him down, shouting ‘Look!  look there at these boots you sold me!’ and I might have called him all sorts of awful names.  Poor guy – he was really upset.  Started stuttering and breathing hard – honestly, I think he might have been about to cry!

So I took off the boots and I was holding them right in his face, shouting at him.  When he took them his hands were just trembling.

And the store manager came over.  Quite a young lady – younger than him anyway.  Very smart and proper, you know?  And I was telling her all about it and – I feel awful now – but I was saying what a useless sales assistant she had, and she ought to give him the sack and all that sort of thing.  And he was just getting redder and redder in the face, and breathing harder and harder.

And then he ran off!  I mean, I must have just pushed too many of his buttons!  He just started gasping, and he bent half over and just scurried off through some door at the back of the shop.  With the boots!  I don’t think the manageress knew what to say!  She went to go and make some sort of phone call, from the till.

And then a couple of minutes later, he came back.  He seemed to have calmed down a bit, although he was still very red in the face.  And he was panting away, as if he’d just run a mile or something.  Goodness knows what he’d been doing back there!  Maybe he’d been crying.  But anyway, he had a new pair of boots with him!  Just like the others, but not damaged.  And when I said ‘But I thought you said you couldn’t change them’ he muttered something about how he could always pay for them himself, out of his own wages.

Well, I didn’t really think.  I just sat down and I held my hand out for him to give me the boots, but he just kneeled down in front of me and put them on me himself!  And he said ‘Thank you, Madam’ and he held the door open for me, when I left the shop.  I think I must have sacred the living daylights out of him!

Poor guy.  I mean, it’s not really his fault, is it?  I felt awful afterwards, I really did.  I shouldn’t think he’s paid very much, do you?  And it can’t be much fun, selling boots and shoes to stroppy ladies all day, even if they don’t all get angry, and shove their boots in his face and call him names!

Oh dear.  Do you think I should go back and apologise?

Do you think she should?

For old times’ sake 2


Oh hi!  Wow – it’s
really you!  When I saw the email from the agency,
I thought it must be someone else with the same name.  After all this time!
It’s so great to see you again!  Because, you know, I often think I never really thanked you enough
for giving me a chance in your startup. 
I mean, you were like this tech guru?  The big boss!  And I was just an intern!  And now look at me – you know how much I got
for the IPO?  $146m!  It’s kinda crazy. 
What a shame you had to leave the company
over that sexual harassment suit, just before we did the deal with Apple.  I really didn’t want to tell the investigators anything you know – none of the girls did.  I mean, except Julie, obviously.  But, you know, there was this really mean lawyer and I had to sign a thing saying I was committing the crime of perjury if I said anything untrue in my statement, so… you know.  Had to kind of tell them all about it.  But I cried about it that night.  And we didn’t speak to Julie again.
Hmm?  No, she moved away.  Bought like her own island in the Caribbean, or something.  So you needn’t worry about running into her too!

Still, it’s good to see you’re still in work.  And I’m so pleased I can help by being a
client!  Because really, you know, I owe
all of this to you.  I mean, it was your product.  Even if you signed away your rights to it, I expect you still feel some kind of ownership, huh?

So – why don’t you start in the bathroom?  You’ve got all your mops and sponges and
things?  Great.  Well, you get started.  I’m going to play tennis today – I have to go now, actually – but I
think you’re on a ten-hour shift? 
Great.  So we’ll have time to
catch up.

Oh – in the bathroom, we have these granite tiles?  With little gaps between them?  You should use a little wire brush for
those.  There’s one in the utility
closet, if you don’t have one with you.

Oh – yeah, and we only use natural cleaning products?  No chemicals, all through the house.  You have to work a bit harder to get a shine, but we think the planet’s a bit more important!  And if it takes you a bit longer, you get paid more don’t you?

Don’t you?  Oh.  Well, we have to pay the agency by the hour.

Oh.  That’s mean.  OK.  Well, maybe I can give you a little extra, OK?  The agency said not to, but if it’s just a few dollars, I don’t see the harm in it.  If you do a good job!


See you later!

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