Category: spanking

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?


Slavish obedience




A bit presumptuous, from someone I only met five minutes ago.  What makes her so sure I won’t just wander off and never meet her again?




 
You might think that after this experience she’d become a pro-domme, but actually she’s fine with the escort business, as long as she can occasionally beat clients up.
Now here’s a professional lady more focused on the subculture’s needs!
Some of the sales team made the mistake of telling potential customers that they’d be physically punished if they didn’t meet their sales targets.  5% of customers did buy more, in sympathy, 75% just laughed it off as a joke but the remaining 20% immediately cancelled their orders. All women, oddly enough.








The run’s extended by three months, but after that it seems they’re likely to run out of convicted sex offenders.  Of course, there are always more sex offenders being convicted – but strangely, the sexual crime rate fell by 75% soon after the show opened. Ironic, huh?

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.

 

And I will bare my soul in time

…when I’m kneeling at your feet.


I think we can agree, though, that it’s hardly femdom to expect men to do their share of the ironing. Including – obviously – making up for the backlog of several thousand years when they didn’t.

So we did.  I wonder what we’ll decide today.
Good thing there’s a woman in charge to take those tough decisions.

Sissy didn’t actually understand the book anyway. Men should go out to work, take decsions, look after their own lives? Terrifiying.
It’s a bluff.  I think it’s a bluff.


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.


Kept men

(we don’t talk about the discarded ones).



Another 2% fantasise desperately about it not happening, or at least not so often and not quite so hard.
Featuring the lovely and no-nonsense Miss Cassie Hunter, the Hunteress.
Right.  It’s about time all this nonsense stopped – I’m going to put my foot down. In fact, I’m going to stamp my foot – hard.  Several times.  And I’m going to to have a proper tantrum.  That should show her she can’t treat me like this.
Their faces usually fall again when she goes on to inform them that she will therefore proceed to the next thrashing, for the next item on her list.
I once asked my SO if she could feminise me, but she just laughed and said she’d love to, but I don’t have the IQ to make a convincing woman.
She cares a lot.



By the way, not ‘found femdom’ in any meaningful way, but over the break I’ve been watching episodes of 90s British sitcom Game On and perving ever so slightly to the lovely Samantha Janus and especially her relationship with the character Martin.  I watched it occasionally at the time it was broadcast and it’s as weird and spectacularly depressing as ever, as the basic set-up is that Matt – a neurotic, agoraphobic narcissist – rents out rooms in his flat to Martin (a wimp) and Mandy (a goddess!).  Martin is a virgin desperate for sex, while Mandy is frustrated with her life and hates herself for sleeping with so many men.  But (da-dum), the only men she absolutely will not have sex with are the other two characters.  With Matt, she refuses and pushes him away but with Martin it obviously never even occurs to her to have sex with him. There’s a lovely scene in this episode (intended to be the first ever, although they varied the order of broadcast), in which her latest boxer boyfriend takes up her whole bed, so she snuggles up with Martin, who lies there with an erection the whole desperate night.  Here, starting 16.22.  Ahhh…

So, yeah, not in any way femdom.  Except that Samantha Janus is quite literally a goddess and I for one intend to found a religion in her honour.

She is notionally Samantha Womack these days, but I’ll be hunting down Mr so-called Womack and forcing the blasphemer to change his name to Janus, as is only right and proper, so don’t worry about that.

For who would bear the whips and scorns?

I once checked on a date-rating site after an evening with a very lovely lady and discovered she’d rated me lower than her vibrator.  Which I wouldn’t mind so much, if that was the rating for sex but that was under ‘personality’.
She’s an expert negotiator.
Warning: the value of investment bankers can go down as well as up.
There’s also ‘maidspreading’.  That’s when you stand with your legs held firmly apart with a spreader bar. It’s usually a precursor to something rather painful.
You’d think they’d have guessed from the spreader gag.


Denagratrix

Thank goodness for modern anaesthetics




Speaking of modern anaesthetics, for those of you into extreme femdom violence, torture and castration, here’s a sweet little move clip I found.






I’m encouraged already, actually.



…and if I do?



You can download an app that’ll translate any length of text into morse code.  She discovered that the next day…


The annual performance reviews can be a bit brutal.


The strength of a woman


You know, I’ve forgotten what I was going to ask about now. Often happens.  Oh well.

Remarkably, with that sniper rifle she can give herself an orgasm with an man who is anything up to a kilometre away.

Medical opinion is divided on the advisability of gagging castration patients during their operations.  On the one hand, there are those who say it’s best to shut the bastards up; but on the other, there are surgeons who get off on the screaming.  The debate continues, in the medical journals.

First dates can often be a bit embarassing… just go with it.

Busy busy.


Maids of dishonour



Just as long as I don’t have to do the thing with the blow-up flamingo again.

He’s lucky she’s in such a good mood. When she gets cross, things can get quite unpleasant.
The delightful and sweet-natured Mistress Sidonia of the English Mansion, of course. She has a wonderful blog, full of unusual and interesting stuff.  I’m sure you knew that already.
The editors get a lot of letters like that. They have to hide them from their own wives, of course.

He came to the Sanctuary hoping to act out his fantasies about brutal rape.  Which, in a way, he did.
They look like they have high standards don’t they?  Or maybe the surface was just very, very dustry. He’ll be hoovering the bath after this.

 Here’s an extra one.  Doesn’t feature any actual females, so doesn’t really count (the same principle should apply to elections and board meetings, in my humblest opinion):








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