I'm working on something I'm going to call "Spanking Smut". I was really working on a different project, but then this one started taking over my brain.
"Smut" is going to be a few edgy short stories. Some of what I write is pretty intense and includes heavy sexuality as well as spanking.
I love a good, no-frills domestic discipline scene. But I also don't mind taking my fantasies to any dark place they happen to go.
All spankos are not alike. Some are purists and don't want anything in the mix except for spanking. Others love everything, the dirtier the better.
I like to include certain elements in my intense spanking stories. I like to write about anal play and even anal discipline. I like key words (naughty, young lady) and I like the embarrassing edge of public play.
I don't get into diapers, enemas or potty stuff. Lots of spankos like the enema play, but it's not for me.
What I like the best is sex. My best fantasies involve rough, almost forced sex.
And that's what's on Jennie's mind today.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Let it Snow!
Audrey clung to David's arm and pulled him through the mall. "Come on!"
"I'm an old man," David joked. "I can't move that fast."
Audrey grinned and ran ahead toward the sporting goods store. She stood outside in front waiting for David to catch up.
"Here they are!" Audrey announced, making her way to a row of ski pants. "This is the kind I want."
David studied the ski pants. They were a bib overall style. "I don't know," he said.
"What do you mean?" Audrey crossed her arms and made a pouty face. "I need these to play in the snow. Otherwise my pants will get all wet when I make a snow angel."
"I like taking off your wet pants and panties when you come in from playing in the snow," David told her.
"Daddy!" Audrey whispered, looking around to make sure that no one could hear. She was a grown-up little girl at home, but she didn't like David saying embarassing things out in public.
David smiled and turned toward another display. "How about these?"
Audrey studied the display. "They're just pants. They don't go all the way up."
"Exactly," David told her. "It's much easier to get to your bottom this way."
Audrey rolled her eyes. "I like the other ones."
"You're getting these," David told her. "Look they have them in pink."
Audrey brightened at that thought.
"Let's go try them on," David said.
Audrey grabbed a pair of pink ski pants, size small. "You can't come in the women's dressing room."
"There's no one here," said David. "No one else went out shopping in a snow storm."
Audrey was ready to argue when a young salesman approached them. "Can I help you?" he asked, not looking like he wanted to help them at all.
David motioned toward the dressing room. "Mind if I go in there with her?"
The kid broke out in a grin. "Yeah, go ahead."
David took Audrey's hand and went with her into the fitting rooms.
"That guy thinks we're going to have sex," Audrey said.
David smiled. "Maybe we are."
Audrey blushed. She stood in front of a large mirror and began to pull the ski pants up over her cotton leggings. David watched with approval as she turned this way and that in front of the mirror.
"Very cute," David said. He patted her bottom through the thick pants. "Let's try them out."
Before Audrey could ask what he was talking about, David had pulled her into one of the small dressing rooms. He pushed her up against the wall and tugged down her ski pant, her leggings and her panties in one smooth motion.
Audrey started to squeal, but David told her firmly to shush. He began to spank her bare bottom lightly, barely making a sound.
"Imagine me spanking you out in the snow," David said.
Audrey groaned and wiggled her bottom. She could definitely imagine that.
"I'll spank your bottom red and then make you dip your hot bottom into the cold snow," he told her. He placed his hand between her bottom cheeks, and she wiggled.
He gave her bottom a pinch. "Hold still," he commanded. He rubbed her bottom all over and then began to massage her bottom hole with his finger.
She groaned again and pressed herself closer to the wall.
David's finger invaded her bottom hole. "Push back," David commanded.
"No... take it out," Audrey groaned.
"Push back or I'll pinch your bottom black and blue," David said in a low voice. "And then I'll make you push back anyway."
Audrey shut her eyes and obeyed, pushing back toward David to feel his finger go deeper into her bottom.
"There you go," he said. He began to pump forcefully in and out of her bottom hole. Then he took his other hand off of her shoulder and reached around to rub her clit.
Audrey wiggled and moaned her way to an orgasm. David continued to pump into her bottom and rub her clit as she writhed against the dressing room wall.
When she had recovered, she turned around to face him. He helped her pull up her pants and then walked her out into the store to tell the young salesman that these were the ski pants they wanted.
"I'm an old man," David joked. "I can't move that fast."
Audrey grinned and ran ahead toward the sporting goods store. She stood outside in front waiting for David to catch up.
"Here they are!" Audrey announced, making her way to a row of ski pants. "This is the kind I want."
David studied the ski pants. They were a bib overall style. "I don't know," he said.
"What do you mean?" Audrey crossed her arms and made a pouty face. "I need these to play in the snow. Otherwise my pants will get all wet when I make a snow angel."
"I like taking off your wet pants and panties when you come in from playing in the snow," David told her.
"Daddy!" Audrey whispered, looking around to make sure that no one could hear. She was a grown-up little girl at home, but she didn't like David saying embarassing things out in public.
David smiled and turned toward another display. "How about these?"
Audrey studied the display. "They're just pants. They don't go all the way up."
"Exactly," David told her. "It's much easier to get to your bottom this way."
Audrey rolled her eyes. "I like the other ones."
"You're getting these," David told her. "Look they have them in pink."
Audrey brightened at that thought.
"Let's go try them on," David said.
Audrey grabbed a pair of pink ski pants, size small. "You can't come in the women's dressing room."
"There's no one here," said David. "No one else went out shopping in a snow storm."
Audrey was ready to argue when a young salesman approached them. "Can I help you?" he asked, not looking like he wanted to help them at all.
David motioned toward the dressing room. "Mind if I go in there with her?"
The kid broke out in a grin. "Yeah, go ahead."
David took Audrey's hand and went with her into the fitting rooms.
"That guy thinks we're going to have sex," Audrey said.
David smiled. "Maybe we are."
Audrey blushed. She stood in front of a large mirror and began to pull the ski pants up over her cotton leggings. David watched with approval as she turned this way and that in front of the mirror.
"Very cute," David said. He patted her bottom through the thick pants. "Let's try them out."
Before Audrey could ask what he was talking about, David had pulled her into one of the small dressing rooms. He pushed her up against the wall and tugged down her ski pant, her leggings and her panties in one smooth motion.
Audrey started to squeal, but David told her firmly to shush. He began to spank her bare bottom lightly, barely making a sound.
"Imagine me spanking you out in the snow," David said.
Audrey groaned and wiggled her bottom. She could definitely imagine that.
"I'll spank your bottom red and then make you dip your hot bottom into the cold snow," he told her. He placed his hand between her bottom cheeks, and she wiggled.
He gave her bottom a pinch. "Hold still," he commanded. He rubbed her bottom all over and then began to massage her bottom hole with his finger.
She groaned again and pressed herself closer to the wall.
David's finger invaded her bottom hole. "Push back," David commanded.
"No... take it out," Audrey groaned.
"Push back or I'll pinch your bottom black and blue," David said in a low voice. "And then I'll make you push back anyway."
Audrey shut her eyes and obeyed, pushing back toward David to feel his finger go deeper into her bottom.
"There you go," he said. He began to pump forcefully in and out of her bottom hole. Then he took his other hand off of her shoulder and reached around to rub her clit.
Audrey wiggled and moaned her way to an orgasm. David continued to pump into her bottom and rub her clit as she writhed against the dressing room wall.
When she had recovered, she turned around to face him. He helped her pull up her pants and then walked her out into the store to tell the young salesman that these were the ski pants they wanted.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
A Domestic Discipline Story
This is the first story in my little domestic discipline collection, Car Trouble. These stories are straight DD, a subject I enjoy tremendously. This first story features Ali and Jim, a very traditional DD couple. The other stories offer different kinds of domestic discipline relationships.
I like the idea of a conservative, religious DD couple. There's something about it that pushes my buttons. I also like the idea of a "typical" modern couple being into domestic discipline.
These stories are male HOH, female sub. It's not that I think that's the only way to be. I support all adult spanking, no matter the gender or sexuality! :-) It's just that M/F is what I like, so it's what I tend to write.
I hope you like the story!
Texting Trouble
By Jennie May
Ali pulled out of the gas station and made a right turn. She’d managed to get her errands out of the way quickly and was thankful to be almost home. She reached for the radio to crank up the country music when she heard her phone beep.
She glanced down at her bag and pulled out her sleek, shiny cell phone. It had been a birthday present from her husband. Jim was always up on the latest technology and was sweet about buying her gadgets that would make her life easier.
The message was a text from Jim. It said, “Hey babe. Did you pick up milk?”
She grinned and texted him back, her fingers flying on the tiny keys. “Yes, I did.”
She used the texting feature on her phone so often that she’d had to start wearing her fingernails shorter. One of her errands that day had been to stop by the nail salon and get them painted a pretty pink. She loved the way the soft color looked with her long, auburn hair.
The phone beeped again. She pushed the message button as she absently turned a corner. The message said “Are you at home?”
She froze. She knew what he was really asking. When Jim bought her the phone he had laid down the rules. There was to be no talking while driving unless she was using a hands-free device. That rule was easy because Ali liked her little blue-tooth earpiece and because it was illegal to drive and speak on a cell phone at the same time. She knew that they couldn’t afford the ticket that would result if she was pulled over. Another of Jim’s rules, however, was harder for her to follow. Jim had told her that she was not allowed to text and drive.
She knew that Jim was right. Texting took her eyes off the road and her attention off her driving. It was the instant nature of texting that made her do it, though. She could give an immediate response to a question or statement by just firing off a few letters. It was so quick and easy that she rarely thought about it before responding.
Ali considered her options. She could lie, tell Jim she was still parked at the gas station. She knew she wouldn’t do that, though. She just couldn’t lie to her husband, and if for some reason he found out she was lying she would be in much bigger trouble than she was already. She decided not to respond at all.
She was only a few blocks from home. As she turned onto their street she could see that Jim’s SUV was already parked in the driveway. She pulled her little sedan in beside him and turned off the engine. She grabbed her bags and got out of the car, brushing Jim’s big black vehicle as she did. It was warm, which meant he’d only just gotten home himself. She let herself into the house and went to the kitchen to put her groceries away.
He came into the kitchen from the hallway. He had his jacket off, and his tie was loosened. Ali knew he’d been in the process of changing out of his work clothes. He pulled her in for a kiss, and she purred.
Jim was an average height, a few inches taller than his wife. He had dark hair and dark eyes that could smolder with passion when he was aroused or angry. However he was normally very calm and controlled. His personality just didn’t lend itself to flying off the handle. He held Ali in his arms and studied her. “You didn’t answer my text.”
She shrugged a little and smiled. “I was almost home.”
He moved his hands to her waist. “You were driving?”
She sighed, and then she nodded.
He kissed her again. “Are you finished unpacking your groceries?”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice. There had only been a few things to put away.
“Then let’s go talk in the bedroom,” he told her, taking her hand in his.
Ali’s heart thumped. She knew what Jim meant by talk, and it wasn’t talking. Well, maybe Jim would talk for a while. She followed her husband down the hall and into their room.
Jim and Ali had been married two years and had been in their house for only a few months. This was the house where they planned to have a family within the next few years. They were a very traditional couple and had been from the beginning of their relationship. They were both raised in traditional families, and they both wanted their own family to mimic the way they grew up.
In their eyes part of being a traditional couple was that the man was the head of the house, and the woman okpsubmitted both to his directions and his discipline. This was something Ali knew she wanted in a relationship long before she met like-minded Jim.
Jim had been the perfect companion for her. He was steady and easy-going while she had a tendency to get irrational. She brought creativity and spark into his life while he brought order and stability into hers. He was a true leader, always giving her space to express her opinions and giving into her preferences whenever possible. He did not hesitate to correct her, though, especially when he felt that her safety was at risk.
Jim pulled her into their bedroom and sat on the bed’s homemade quilt, a wedding gift from Ali’s grandmother. He placed his hands on Ali’s hips and pulled her toward him, standing her between his parted legs.
“Well?” he asked. “You have anything to say about this?”
Ali took a breath and then shook her head. “I was texting while I was driving. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Jim nodded. “Okay. But I want to know why you did it. Didn’t I tell you it was against the rules?”
Ali sucked on her bottom lip. “Yes.”
“And don’t you know that it’s dangerous?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Jim shook his head. “Then why?”
Ali thought about it and couldn’t find a reasonable answer. “I just wasn’t thinking,” she finally admitted.
Jim frowned. He appeared to be thinking. “Honey, you need a spanking to help you remember to think before you act.”
Ali wasn’t surprised but she felt herself tremble just the same. She knew he was right. She had disobeyed, and she had to face the consequences. If Jim let these things go, he wouldn’t be the husband she’d wanted.
Jim looked her in the eye, and his voice was stern. “I make rules for your protection. You made a promise to obey when we got married, and I am going to hold you to that promise. Do you understand?”
She swallowed and nodded, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She knew that disobedience was the same as breaking her wedding vows, and that was very serious.
“Driving is a privilege, young lady,” Jim told her. “It’s one that I will take away from you if you can’t handle it responsibly.”
“Please don’t,” Ali said quietly. She liked the freedom of having her own car and being able to go out when she wanted. She knew that Jim could easily take her car away. She didn’t have a job to go to. They’d agreed when they were engaged that she would make their home her focus. She used the car for shopping and other activities. If she didn’t have a car, Jim could always take her when he wasn’t working.
“I’m not going to do that now,” he said. “I do want you to know that it could happen, though. I’m very serious about you driving safely. Let me ask you something. Do you think you would be texting while driving if our children were in the car?”
Ali had never thought about it before, but she knew that once she and Jim had a family she wouldn’t take those kinds of risks. She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t be safe,” she told him.
He nodded. “It’s not safe for you either.”
“I know,” she said softly.
He moved his large hands from her hips and put them around her smaller hands. “This time you’re getting a spanking. Do it again and you’ll get another spanking and lose your driving privileges for two weeks. Got it?”
“Yes,” she answered. Her bottom was tingling already, and her knees were starting to feel a little squishy. Spankings from Jim were nothing to take lightly. He was the kind of man who did everything the best way he knew how, including disciplining his wife. His intention was to make her regret her actions, and he wouldn’t stop until he was sure that had happened.
“Go get your paddle,” he told her.
She felt a stab of anxiety in her chest, but she obeyed. She opened the top right drawer of her dresser where she kept odds and ends, and she pulled out a small wooden paddle. It was shaped like a stirring spoon, and she knew that it was a lot more dangerous than it looked. She handed it to Jim, and he placed it on the bed. Then he pulled her down across his lap so that her chest and head were supported by the bed but her legs were dangling. Her bottom was centered on his lap. He flipped up her wool skirt and put his hand on her panties.
Ali felt embarrassed, ashamed and anxious. She was already on the verge of tears, knowing she had put herself in this childish position by her own lack of maturity. Jim’s hand on her bottom made her feel helpless.
She cringed when he pulled her panties down to reveal her bare bottom. Jim had sometimes spanked her on her panties, and a few times even on the seat of her skirt, but he spanked her bare bottom for serious infractions.
Jim wasted no time. He began spanking her hard and fast, the swats following each other in fractions of a second. She felt the heat immediately, and this was followed by a sting so painful she felt like she had carpet burn. It spread over and into her bottom like olive oil on bread until it saturated her cheeks. The tears spilled and collected on the quilt beneath her, and it wasn’t long before she was sobbing.
Jim stopped for a moment and let her get herself under control. “You understand that I’m serious about this?”
“Yes,” she cried incredulously. How could she not understand? Her bottom was throbbing.
She felt the paddle tap against her sore bottom, and she sucked in her breath and began to babble through her tears. “Jim, I’m sorry. Please don’t paddle me. I’m so sorry.”
“Tell me you won’t text and drive anymore,” Jim said.
“I won’t!” she promised.
Jim brought the paddle down with a loud thwack. Ali jumped and cried out.
“Tell me again,” Jim commanded.
“I won’t text and drive,” Ali shrieked. “I won’t!”
Jim swatted her hard. “Again.”
“I won’t! Jim, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.”
She felt the next paddle swat low on her bottom cheeks. It hurt. “I won’t text and drive,” she said quickly, squeezing her eyes shut. “I promise.”
He paddled her hard several more times, and she found herself thrust into a storm of tears. When he was finished, he stood her in front of him. She was still crying hard, and her bottom hurt. Her hands flew behind her to try in vain to rub the sting from her sore bottom.
Jim brought her down to sit on his lap, and she flinched as her bottom made contact with his pants. He brushed the hair away from her wet eyes and kissed her on the nose.
“We’re not going to have to do this again, are we?”
She shook her head, although she suspected that sometime over the next fifty or so years she would find herself in this position. She knew that it would most likely be sooner than later. However she knew that the purpose of his question was to confirm that she had learned her lesson about texting while driving, and she had. It was one mistake she was not going to repeat.
She put her arms around him then and rested her head on his shoulder. He held her tightly for several minutes before gently placing her on the bed. “I’ll make dinner,” he told her.
She smiled up at him and nodded. When he had left the room she allowed herself a few minutes to reflect on this, the marriage she’d dreamed about since she was a child. Then she put her pajamas on and went out to join him for dinner.
I like the idea of a conservative, religious DD couple. There's something about it that pushes my buttons. I also like the idea of a "typical" modern couple being into domestic discipline.
These stories are male HOH, female sub. It's not that I think that's the only way to be. I support all adult spanking, no matter the gender or sexuality! :-) It's just that M/F is what I like, so it's what I tend to write.
I hope you like the story!
Texting Trouble
By Jennie May
Ali pulled out of the gas station and made a right turn. She’d managed to get her errands out of the way quickly and was thankful to be almost home. She reached for the radio to crank up the country music when she heard her phone beep.
She glanced down at her bag and pulled out her sleek, shiny cell phone. It had been a birthday present from her husband. Jim was always up on the latest technology and was sweet about buying her gadgets that would make her life easier.
The message was a text from Jim. It said, “Hey babe. Did you pick up milk?”
She grinned and texted him back, her fingers flying on the tiny keys. “Yes, I did.”
She used the texting feature on her phone so often that she’d had to start wearing her fingernails shorter. One of her errands that day had been to stop by the nail salon and get them painted a pretty pink. She loved the way the soft color looked with her long, auburn hair.
The phone beeped again. She pushed the message button as she absently turned a corner. The message said “Are you at home?”
She froze. She knew what he was really asking. When Jim bought her the phone he had laid down the rules. There was to be no talking while driving unless she was using a hands-free device. That rule was easy because Ali liked her little blue-tooth earpiece and because it was illegal to drive and speak on a cell phone at the same time. She knew that they couldn’t afford the ticket that would result if she was pulled over. Another of Jim’s rules, however, was harder for her to follow. Jim had told her that she was not allowed to text and drive.
She knew that Jim was right. Texting took her eyes off the road and her attention off her driving. It was the instant nature of texting that made her do it, though. She could give an immediate response to a question or statement by just firing off a few letters. It was so quick and easy that she rarely thought about it before responding.
Ali considered her options. She could lie, tell Jim she was still parked at the gas station. She knew she wouldn’t do that, though. She just couldn’t lie to her husband, and if for some reason he found out she was lying she would be in much bigger trouble than she was already. She decided not to respond at all.
She was only a few blocks from home. As she turned onto their street she could see that Jim’s SUV was already parked in the driveway. She pulled her little sedan in beside him and turned off the engine. She grabbed her bags and got out of the car, brushing Jim’s big black vehicle as she did. It was warm, which meant he’d only just gotten home himself. She let herself into the house and went to the kitchen to put her groceries away.
He came into the kitchen from the hallway. He had his jacket off, and his tie was loosened. Ali knew he’d been in the process of changing out of his work clothes. He pulled her in for a kiss, and she purred.
Jim was an average height, a few inches taller than his wife. He had dark hair and dark eyes that could smolder with passion when he was aroused or angry. However he was normally very calm and controlled. His personality just didn’t lend itself to flying off the handle. He held Ali in his arms and studied her. “You didn’t answer my text.”
She shrugged a little and smiled. “I was almost home.”
He moved his hands to her waist. “You were driving?”
She sighed, and then she nodded.
He kissed her again. “Are you finished unpacking your groceries?”
“Yes,” she said in a small voice. There had only been a few things to put away.
“Then let’s go talk in the bedroom,” he told her, taking her hand in his.
Ali’s heart thumped. She knew what Jim meant by talk, and it wasn’t talking. Well, maybe Jim would talk for a while. She followed her husband down the hall and into their room.
Jim and Ali had been married two years and had been in their house for only a few months. This was the house where they planned to have a family within the next few years. They were a very traditional couple and had been from the beginning of their relationship. They were both raised in traditional families, and they both wanted their own family to mimic the way they grew up.
In their eyes part of being a traditional couple was that the man was the head of the house, and the woman okpsubmitted both to his directions and his discipline. This was something Ali knew she wanted in a relationship long before she met like-minded Jim.
Jim had been the perfect companion for her. He was steady and easy-going while she had a tendency to get irrational. She brought creativity and spark into his life while he brought order and stability into hers. He was a true leader, always giving her space to express her opinions and giving into her preferences whenever possible. He did not hesitate to correct her, though, especially when he felt that her safety was at risk.
Jim pulled her into their bedroom and sat on the bed’s homemade quilt, a wedding gift from Ali’s grandmother. He placed his hands on Ali’s hips and pulled her toward him, standing her between his parted legs.
“Well?” he asked. “You have anything to say about this?”
Ali took a breath and then shook her head. “I was texting while I was driving. I shouldn’t have done it.”
Jim nodded. “Okay. But I want to know why you did it. Didn’t I tell you it was against the rules?”
Ali sucked on her bottom lip. “Yes.”
“And don’t you know that it’s dangerous?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Jim shook his head. “Then why?”
Ali thought about it and couldn’t find a reasonable answer. “I just wasn’t thinking,” she finally admitted.
Jim frowned. He appeared to be thinking. “Honey, you need a spanking to help you remember to think before you act.”
Ali wasn’t surprised but she felt herself tremble just the same. She knew he was right. She had disobeyed, and she had to face the consequences. If Jim let these things go, he wouldn’t be the husband she’d wanted.
Jim looked her in the eye, and his voice was stern. “I make rules for your protection. You made a promise to obey when we got married, and I am going to hold you to that promise. Do you understand?”
She swallowed and nodded, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She knew that disobedience was the same as breaking her wedding vows, and that was very serious.
“Driving is a privilege, young lady,” Jim told her. “It’s one that I will take away from you if you can’t handle it responsibly.”
“Please don’t,” Ali said quietly. She liked the freedom of having her own car and being able to go out when she wanted. She knew that Jim could easily take her car away. She didn’t have a job to go to. They’d agreed when they were engaged that she would make their home her focus. She used the car for shopping and other activities. If she didn’t have a car, Jim could always take her when he wasn’t working.
“I’m not going to do that now,” he said. “I do want you to know that it could happen, though. I’m very serious about you driving safely. Let me ask you something. Do you think you would be texting while driving if our children were in the car?”
Ali had never thought about it before, but she knew that once she and Jim had a family she wouldn’t take those kinds of risks. She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it wouldn’t be safe,” she told him.
He nodded. “It’s not safe for you either.”
“I know,” she said softly.
He moved his large hands from her hips and put them around her smaller hands. “This time you’re getting a spanking. Do it again and you’ll get another spanking and lose your driving privileges for two weeks. Got it?”
“Yes,” she answered. Her bottom was tingling already, and her knees were starting to feel a little squishy. Spankings from Jim were nothing to take lightly. He was the kind of man who did everything the best way he knew how, including disciplining his wife. His intention was to make her regret her actions, and he wouldn’t stop until he was sure that had happened.
“Go get your paddle,” he told her.
She felt a stab of anxiety in her chest, but she obeyed. She opened the top right drawer of her dresser where she kept odds and ends, and she pulled out a small wooden paddle. It was shaped like a stirring spoon, and she knew that it was a lot more dangerous than it looked. She handed it to Jim, and he placed it on the bed. Then he pulled her down across his lap so that her chest and head were supported by the bed but her legs were dangling. Her bottom was centered on his lap. He flipped up her wool skirt and put his hand on her panties.
Ali felt embarrassed, ashamed and anxious. She was already on the verge of tears, knowing she had put herself in this childish position by her own lack of maturity. Jim’s hand on her bottom made her feel helpless.
She cringed when he pulled her panties down to reveal her bare bottom. Jim had sometimes spanked her on her panties, and a few times even on the seat of her skirt, but he spanked her bare bottom for serious infractions.
Jim wasted no time. He began spanking her hard and fast, the swats following each other in fractions of a second. She felt the heat immediately, and this was followed by a sting so painful she felt like she had carpet burn. It spread over and into her bottom like olive oil on bread until it saturated her cheeks. The tears spilled and collected on the quilt beneath her, and it wasn’t long before she was sobbing.
Jim stopped for a moment and let her get herself under control. “You understand that I’m serious about this?”
“Yes,” she cried incredulously. How could she not understand? Her bottom was throbbing.
She felt the paddle tap against her sore bottom, and she sucked in her breath and began to babble through her tears. “Jim, I’m sorry. Please don’t paddle me. I’m so sorry.”
“Tell me you won’t text and drive anymore,” Jim said.
“I won’t!” she promised.
Jim brought the paddle down with a loud thwack. Ali jumped and cried out.
“Tell me again,” Jim commanded.
“I won’t text and drive,” Ali shrieked. “I won’t!”
Jim swatted her hard. “Again.”
“I won’t! Jim, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.”
She felt the next paddle swat low on her bottom cheeks. It hurt. “I won’t text and drive,” she said quickly, squeezing her eyes shut. “I promise.”
He paddled her hard several more times, and she found herself thrust into a storm of tears. When he was finished, he stood her in front of him. She was still crying hard, and her bottom hurt. Her hands flew behind her to try in vain to rub the sting from her sore bottom.
Jim brought her down to sit on his lap, and she flinched as her bottom made contact with his pants. He brushed the hair away from her wet eyes and kissed her on the nose.
“We’re not going to have to do this again, are we?”
She shook her head, although she suspected that sometime over the next fifty or so years she would find herself in this position. She knew that it would most likely be sooner than later. However she knew that the purpose of his question was to confirm that she had learned her lesson about texting while driving, and she had. It was one mistake she was not going to repeat.
She put her arms around him then and rested her head on his shoulder. He held her tightly for several minutes before gently placing her on the bed. “I’ll make dinner,” he told her.
She smiled up at him and nodded. When he had left the room she allowed herself a few minutes to reflect on this, the marriage she’d dreamed about since she was a child. Then she put her pajamas on and went out to join him for dinner.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
I'm Back!
Yes, I had a very good excuse. :-)
I was out of the country on some personal business, and I wasn't able to update.
But I did write a new collection of short stories!
Car Trouble is a group of domestic discipline stories relating to the craziness of cars. I hope you like them.
I'll post a little teaser soon. ;-)
Thanks to everyone who e-mailed me and commented. I appreciate that you are thinking of me.
I was out of the country on some personal business, and I wasn't able to update.
But I did write a new collection of short stories!
Car Trouble is a group of domestic discipline stories relating to the craziness of cars. I hope you like them.
I'll post a little teaser soon. ;-)
Thanks to everyone who e-mailed me and commented. I appreciate that you are thinking of me.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
I Wonder...
in a 24/7 relationship does anyone decide to "take a break". What if I wake up one morning and just don't want to do it that day? Is it like exercise - do you have to do it even when you don't want to?
I wonder if it would take some of the allure off of it if I knew I could call it off at any random moment. I mean, part of IT is that it's REAL. That's why it's 24/7.
A fictional Daddy would instinctively know when to back off, but then fictional Daddies are perfect. A real Daddy might not know what to do.
Hm...
I wonder if it would take some of the allure off of it if I knew I could call it off at any random moment. I mean, part of IT is that it's REAL. That's why it's 24/7.
A fictional Daddy would instinctively know when to back off, but then fictional Daddies are perfect. A real Daddy might not know what to do.
Hm...
Friday, November 13, 2009
Lazy
I still haven't bought the cap cream. And THAT was a post.
"OUCH! HEY! What was that for?"
"I think you know."
:-P
"OUCH! HEY! What was that for?"
"I think you know."
:-P
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Promises
"I thought you said you were going to post every day."
"What?"
"Turn off the TV."
"Whyyyyy?... Ouch! Okay, fine. What?"
"You said you were going to post every day. You said if you were going to do this blog thing you would do it right."
"I know, but I got busy."
"Busy with what?"
"Mmmm.... well, I did some laundry."
"You did a load of laundry. That's busy?"
"I did some other stuff!"
"Such as?"
"I don't know. I can't remember."
"Stand up and turn around. Pants down."
"Noooo...."
"NOW."
"Ow!"
"Panties down too. Hurry up."
"This is not fair! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"
"You said you'd post every day."
"I will! Geez! I'll post every day! OWWWWW!"
"Good. See that you do. No, don't pull them up. I think you can be bare-bottomed for the rest of today. I might feel like reminding you again."
"Grrrr."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Good. Go on and post something."
"What?"
"Turn off the TV."
"Whyyyyy?... Ouch! Okay, fine. What?"
"You said you were going to post every day. You said if you were going to do this blog thing you would do it right."
"I know, but I got busy."
"Busy with what?"
"Mmmm.... well, I did some laundry."
"You did a load of laundry. That's busy?"
"I did some other stuff!"
"Such as?"
"I don't know. I can't remember."
"Stand up and turn around. Pants down."
"Noooo...."
"NOW."
"Ow!"
"Panties down too. Hurry up."
"This is not fair! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"
"You said you'd post every day."
"I will! Geez! I'll post every day! OWWWWW!"
"Good. See that you do. No, don't pull them up. I think you can be bare-bottomed for the rest of today. I might feel like reminding you again."
"Grrrr."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Good. Go on and post something."
Monday, November 9, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The First Time
I was thinking today about the first time someone made me do something by spanking me. It was about 10 years ago, and I was new to real-life spanking games. I'd been out with a friend and we were back at my apartment. I don't even remember what it was he wanted me to do, but whatever it was I balked. I remember him spanking me, over my jeans, ferociously. And then I remember being completely and totally in his power. I did exactly what he wanted. Through fear? Or something else?
Whatever it was, it was absolutely mind-blowing. I guess some people would feel anger or anxiety in a situation like that, but I felt incredible. I felt so free. Funny.
Whatever it was, it was absolutely mind-blowing. I guess some people would feel anger or anxiety in a situation like that, but I felt incredible. I felt so free. Funny.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Capsaisin Cream
Have you heard about this stuff?
Apparently it relieves pain in those with arthritis but causes pain in spankos. Hm...
People use it for times when a spanking isn't possible. As in "I can't spank you now. Go rub some of this burning cream on your bottom."
I think an experiment is in order.
Apparently it relieves pain in those with arthritis but causes pain in spankos. Hm...
People use it for times when a spanking isn't possible. As in "I can't spank you now. Go rub some of this burning cream on your bottom."
I think an experiment is in order.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Spoons
What is it about wooden spoons?
The spoon has got to be my favorite implement other than a bare hand. I don't know why. I guess it's a mixture of the idea of childhood/home/cooking and a really mean swat. Also there's the spontaneity of getting spanked with something that happens to be hanging around the house anyway.
Also you can gaze at them at Target and no one thinks you're weird. :-)
Happy Friday
The spoon has got to be my favorite implement other than a bare hand. I don't know why. I guess it's a mixture of the idea of childhood/home/cooking and a really mean swat. Also there's the spontaneity of getting spanked with something that happens to be hanging around the house anyway.
Also you can gaze at them at Target and no one thinks you're weird. :-)
Happy Friday
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Negotiations
"Hm... Let's see. You stayed up past bedtime. How many paddle swats is that worth?"
"Um... two on my pants?"
"Two? I don't think so. I think six on your panties"
"No! Um... three? On my pants."
"Six. On your panties."
"That's not fair! It wasn't such a big deal. You're mean."
"So it's six on your panties?"
"No, it is not. Um... four. Four on my pants."
"How about six on your panties?"
"You aren't doing it right!"
"Doing what right?"
"You keep saying the same thing! We're negotiating."
"Negotiating?"
"Yes. You have to change your answer."
"Oh, okay. I'll change my answer to seven on your bare bottom."
Pause.
More pause.
"Argh! Fine. Six on my panties."
"Um... two on my pants?"
"Two? I don't think so. I think six on your panties"
"No! Um... three? On my pants."
"Six. On your panties."
"That's not fair! It wasn't such a big deal. You're mean."
"So it's six on your panties?"
"No, it is not. Um... four. Four on my pants."
"How about six on your panties?"
"You aren't doing it right!"
"Doing what right?"
"You keep saying the same thing! We're negotiating."
"Negotiating?"
"Yes. You have to change your answer."
"Oh, okay. I'll change my answer to seven on your bare bottom."
Pause.
More pause.
"Argh! Fine. Six on my panties."
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
I Heart Johanna Lindsey
Yes, I do read "real" literature. :-P
However I also love a good, trashy romance novel. One of my very favorite romance writers is Johanna Lindsey. She's been turning this stuff out for years, and I have loved her since I first picked up one of her novels.
The reason I'm singing her praises here is that I'm pretty sure she's a spanko. She includes a spanking scene or a reference in many of her books. I will often see a place in a Lindsey novel where a spanking scene could easily be inserted, and I wonder if she didn't write one for her own private version of the book.
She has one series that involves another planet whose inhabitants more or less practice domestic discipline.
The stuff in between the spanking scenes is also cause for squirmy pleasure. Her heroes tend to be larger than life, perfect specimens of the male kind. Her heroines are smart and feisty.
Johanna Lindsey makes excellent reading for this oversexed girl.
However I also love a good, trashy romance novel. One of my very favorite romance writers is Johanna Lindsey. She's been turning this stuff out for years, and I have loved her since I first picked up one of her novels.
The reason I'm singing her praises here is that I'm pretty sure she's a spanko. She includes a spanking scene or a reference in many of her books. I will often see a place in a Lindsey novel where a spanking scene could easily be inserted, and I wonder if she didn't write one for her own private version of the book.
She has one series that involves another planet whose inhabitants more or less practice domestic discipline.
The stuff in between the spanking scenes is also cause for squirmy pleasure. Her heroes tend to be larger than life, perfect specimens of the male kind. Her heroines are smart and feisty.
Johanna Lindsey makes excellent reading for this oversexed girl.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Coveting My Neighbor's Ass
My neighbor is a size zero. I like to imagine her in a department store.
Saleslady: Yes, I can find that for you. What size?
My neighbor: Size zero. You see, I am so tiny that I have no size at all.
Saleslady nods appreciatively and realizes that anything in the store will look incredible on my neighbor.
My neighbor is also very pretty. I'd hate her except that she's sweet, too.
Men who should know tell me that spanking a size zero is like spanking a rock. They claim to prefer a nice, soft round bottom.
Let's hope this is true.
Saleslady: Yes, I can find that for you. What size?
My neighbor: Size zero. You see, I am so tiny that I have no size at all.
Saleslady nods appreciatively and realizes that anything in the store will look incredible on my neighbor.
My neighbor is also very pretty. I'd hate her except that she's sweet, too.
Men who should know tell me that spanking a size zero is like spanking a rock. They claim to prefer a nice, soft round bottom.
Let's hope this is true.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Audrey and Cinderella
Audrey twirled again. Her lovely blue gown was absolutely stunning. The skirt flared out into the room, very elegant looking until it caused her to knock something over like a picture frame or a cat.
She placed her golden crown on her head and smiled at herself in the mirror. She made an excellent princess.
She took the stairs quickly, almost tripping over her glass slippers. David was waiting for her in the entry hall.
"You are beautiful," David told her. He was dashing in his Prince Charming costume. He might have been a few years older than the fairy tale prince, but Audrey found him every bit as wonderful.
"Thank you," she said, managing a curtsy. She tried to sink low to the floor, but her knees would only bend so far.
David grinned at her. "That dress looks a bit like a wedding cake."
Audrey rolled her eyes at him. "You're obviously not familiar with ball gowns." The bodice of her dress was light blue with tiny, sparkling rhinestones scattered throughout. The skirt was made up of rows and rows of silky blue and white fabric, gathered here and there for a draped look. She'd put on a thick, stiff petticoat under the skirt so that it would stand out as far as possible. It was so large that she found herself having to hold her arms out like one of those little pageant girls on television.
David leaned over and kissed her. "If I kiss you, do you fall asleep or something?"
"Wrong princess," she corrected him. "And she woke up when the prince kissed her, silly. Are you ready to go to the party?"
She was excited to attend this particular Halloween party because so many of her friends were going to be there. She couldn't wait to show off her Cinderella gown. Her best friend, Molly, was planning to come as a butterfly. They'd worked on her sparkly wings for weeks.
"There's something we need to do before we go," David told her.
Audrey looked at him skeptically. His tone implied that this wasn't something she would enjoy.
David got that parental look about him, and Audrey squinted her eyes. "What?"
"Do you recall the last time you and Molly were out together?" he asked her.
She nodded. So they'd gotten into a little bit of trouble that had involved a little spaghetti landing into a strange woman's handbag. So what? The lady really hadn't been very nice and probably deserved to scoop pasta out of her coin purse. Audrey giggled a little at the thought, but David ignored her.
"I'm going to remind you to behave yourself with Molly tonight," David announced.
Audrey's bottom involuntarily tingled. "I'll be good," she promised. She could hear her voice rising in pitch.
"I know you will," David told her. "This is going to help."
Audrey glared at David. It wasn't fair to spank her when she hadn't even done anything! She knew it was pointless to argue, though, because she'd tried that before.
"Put your hands on the coffee table," David instructed. He was regarding her a little quizzically, and Audrey soon found out why.
She bent over to place her hands on the coffee table as instructed, and her skirt flew up into the air.
David began to laugh. "I was hoping that would happen?"
Audrey stood and turned to him, hands on her hips. "What?"
"Get back down there," David said, assisting her back into position. "Your skirt is flared around you and making a perfect frame for your pantied bottom. It's like a peacock."
Audrey started to stand again, but David was ready for her. He held her back down. "Stick out that bottom," he commanded. "And don't move. This is a perfect picture."
He meant that literally she discovered as she heard the click of the camera behind her. David pulled her panties down then and arranged them at her knees. Then the camera went off again.
Audrey sighed deeply.
"Hush," David told her. He moved to her side and began walloping her naked bottom with his large hand. "Let's get this tush nice and red for another photo."
"No!" Audrey insisted, but her worries about photography soon faded as her bottom began to warm.
David was scolding her. "You are not to get into any crazy situations with Molly, got that?"
Audrey didn't say anything. She was wondering what was considered crazy.
David spanked her hard three times in exactly the same spot. She screeched. "Yes! I got it!"
"Good," he said. He increased the level of his spanking until she was dancing and wiggling back and forth. She kicked off a glass slipper, and David had to stop spanking her because he was laughing too hard.
"My bottom hurts!" she complained. It did hurt, and she knew it would be even worse if she tried to sit at the party. She wasn't sure she could sit in the dress, though, so maybe it didn't matter.
David finished his spanking with a volley of swats to the lower part of Audrey's cheeks, and she wailed in protest. Then he put her panties back up and pulled her to a standing position.
He tilted her face up so that she was looking into his eyes. "Your bottom sting?"
Audrey nodded, a pout on her lips.
"Good," he said. "That should remind you to stay out of trouble."
"Yes sir," Audrey sighed. She couldn't rub her burning bottom because of the layers of fabric that were in the way.
"I put a little something in your bag as an extra reminder," David told her.
She eyed him. "What is it?"
"Your purple plug," he answered casually. "If you start to act up, we'll go into the bathroom and put it in."
"Nooooo," she whined. She hated having that big plug in her bottom.
"You want to wear it now instead?" David asked her sternly.
She shook her head violently. The damned plug could stay in her bag.
David's look softened. He kissed her forehead. "You really do look beautiful. Go fix your makeup, and we'll be on our way."
Audrey made her way to the bathroom with a little smile on her face and a little glow on her bottom.
She placed her golden crown on her head and smiled at herself in the mirror. She made an excellent princess.
She took the stairs quickly, almost tripping over her glass slippers. David was waiting for her in the entry hall.
"You are beautiful," David told her. He was dashing in his Prince Charming costume. He might have been a few years older than the fairy tale prince, but Audrey found him every bit as wonderful.
"Thank you," she said, managing a curtsy. She tried to sink low to the floor, but her knees would only bend so far.
David grinned at her. "That dress looks a bit like a wedding cake."
Audrey rolled her eyes at him. "You're obviously not familiar with ball gowns." The bodice of her dress was light blue with tiny, sparkling rhinestones scattered throughout. The skirt was made up of rows and rows of silky blue and white fabric, gathered here and there for a draped look. She'd put on a thick, stiff petticoat under the skirt so that it would stand out as far as possible. It was so large that she found herself having to hold her arms out like one of those little pageant girls on television.
David leaned over and kissed her. "If I kiss you, do you fall asleep or something?"
"Wrong princess," she corrected him. "And she woke up when the prince kissed her, silly. Are you ready to go to the party?"
She was excited to attend this particular Halloween party because so many of her friends were going to be there. She couldn't wait to show off her Cinderella gown. Her best friend, Molly, was planning to come as a butterfly. They'd worked on her sparkly wings for weeks.
"There's something we need to do before we go," David told her.
Audrey looked at him skeptically. His tone implied that this wasn't something she would enjoy.
David got that parental look about him, and Audrey squinted her eyes. "What?"
"Do you recall the last time you and Molly were out together?" he asked her.
She nodded. So they'd gotten into a little bit of trouble that had involved a little spaghetti landing into a strange woman's handbag. So what? The lady really hadn't been very nice and probably deserved to scoop pasta out of her coin purse. Audrey giggled a little at the thought, but David ignored her.
"I'm going to remind you to behave yourself with Molly tonight," David announced.
Audrey's bottom involuntarily tingled. "I'll be good," she promised. She could hear her voice rising in pitch.
"I know you will," David told her. "This is going to help."
Audrey glared at David. It wasn't fair to spank her when she hadn't even done anything! She knew it was pointless to argue, though, because she'd tried that before.
"Put your hands on the coffee table," David instructed. He was regarding her a little quizzically, and Audrey soon found out why.
She bent over to place her hands on the coffee table as instructed, and her skirt flew up into the air.
David began to laugh. "I was hoping that would happen?"
Audrey stood and turned to him, hands on her hips. "What?"
"Get back down there," David said, assisting her back into position. "Your skirt is flared around you and making a perfect frame for your pantied bottom. It's like a peacock."
Audrey started to stand again, but David was ready for her. He held her back down. "Stick out that bottom," he commanded. "And don't move. This is a perfect picture."
He meant that literally she discovered as she heard the click of the camera behind her. David pulled her panties down then and arranged them at her knees. Then the camera went off again.
Audrey sighed deeply.
"Hush," David told her. He moved to her side and began walloping her naked bottom with his large hand. "Let's get this tush nice and red for another photo."
"No!" Audrey insisted, but her worries about photography soon faded as her bottom began to warm.
David was scolding her. "You are not to get into any crazy situations with Molly, got that?"
Audrey didn't say anything. She was wondering what was considered crazy.
David spanked her hard three times in exactly the same spot. She screeched. "Yes! I got it!"
"Good," he said. He increased the level of his spanking until she was dancing and wiggling back and forth. She kicked off a glass slipper, and David had to stop spanking her because he was laughing too hard.
"My bottom hurts!" she complained. It did hurt, and she knew it would be even worse if she tried to sit at the party. She wasn't sure she could sit in the dress, though, so maybe it didn't matter.
David finished his spanking with a volley of swats to the lower part of Audrey's cheeks, and she wailed in protest. Then he put her panties back up and pulled her to a standing position.
He tilted her face up so that she was looking into his eyes. "Your bottom sting?"
Audrey nodded, a pout on her lips.
"Good," he said. "That should remind you to stay out of trouble."
"Yes sir," Audrey sighed. She couldn't rub her burning bottom because of the layers of fabric that were in the way.
"I put a little something in your bag as an extra reminder," David told her.
She eyed him. "What is it?"
"Your purple plug," he answered casually. "If you start to act up, we'll go into the bathroom and put it in."
"Nooooo," she whined. She hated having that big plug in her bottom.
"You want to wear it now instead?" David asked her sternly.
She shook her head violently. The damned plug could stay in her bag.
David's look softened. He kissed her forehead. "You really do look beautiful. Go fix your makeup, and we'll be on our way."
Audrey made her way to the bathroom with a little smile on her face and a little glow on her bottom.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Religious Kink
I've been thinking a lot about why religion is a sexual kink for me... or maybe it's not. It just plays easily into my existing kinks. (Religious people having sex wouldn't do much for me, but people spanking with a religious background would).
Interestingly this is all completely separate from my own religious/spiritual leanings. I don't combine them in my mind at all.
I will admit here that I like to read what's become known as Christian Domestic Discipline or CDD. It's really bizarre to me that many people who are just fine with Domestic Discipline are freaked out by CDD. The difference between the two is that CDD is portrayed as accepted/preferred/mandated (depending on who you talk to) by God. Also those who write about these topics on-line often (always?) say that they are living this lifestyle.
I can see that the tendency to be bothered by CDD is a matter of consensuality and also reality. IF this is real (I have to wonder...) then maybe these women are being sort of brainwashed by their churches to participate even though they don't want to. And of course a lack of consent is just violence, and that's not acceptable.
So... I can see the objection. However, I don't think that there is any more to object to in CDD than there is in regular DD. A woman can be raised in a DD household and made to believe that this is what she should do, or she can be talked into it by a man even if she is against it. This would, of course, also be unacceptable.
The people I talk to about CDD are very similar to people I've met (online only) who practice DD. It is a matter of consensuality. You don't see women online saying that they wouldn't let their husbands spank them except that they think God wants them to. It is just as consensual as DD - an agreement to accept and give discipline made before the actual event. It's just that CDD couples say that they believe this is God's way to a happy marriage (DDers will often say it's their own way to a happy marriage).
If you ask me, there's a huge amount of sexuality in CDD. But if you ask others, they will tell you there's not. And what do I know? This is not something I practice. However just the fact that it involves fiction is a good indication.
I am not a right-wing conservative type... um, at all. So why do I want to read about those who are? I'm not sure, but I think it has to do with this fantasy of security I find in these really conservative groups where people separate themselves from the rest of the world. Do I think this is real security? Absolutely not. However I am very much attracted to the fantasy of it.
CDD fiction is full of these perfect, God-fearing, highly ethical men. (Do conservative Christian men, in general, fit this description? In my experience, that's a big loud NO). But how I love those guys in my fiction. These men are infallible. They are intelligent, friendly and authoritative. They would never, ever cheat on their wives. These are some terrific made-up men.
I guess if I'm being completely honest, the lack of consent does appeal to my fantasies too. (Not reality, fantasy.) The idea of a place/group where women get spanked and have no choice is appealing sexually... again, in fantasy. Does this make me an evil, anti-feminist, rotten tomato? Maybe, but I don't care. What turns me on is what turns me on, and I'm not going to apologize for that.
So to summarize my little self-indulgent rambling (that's what a blog is for, yes?) I like CDD fiction. I like it a lot. It pushes my buttons. Do I fear that CDD fiction is somehow putting real women in danger? No. If there are conservative Christians who are putting women in these kind of positions against their will, I am absolutely not in favor of that (although I suppose there is a question of an adult having the right to put herself in certain situations based on her religious beliefs and what she wants.... but that's another thought journey). But I don't think CDD fiction has anything to do with wife-battering. It's about sex, and that's the way I like it!
Interestingly this is all completely separate from my own religious/spiritual leanings. I don't combine them in my mind at all.
I will admit here that I like to read what's become known as Christian Domestic Discipline or CDD. It's really bizarre to me that many people who are just fine with Domestic Discipline are freaked out by CDD. The difference between the two is that CDD is portrayed as accepted/preferred/mandated (depending on who you talk to) by God. Also those who write about these topics on-line often (always?) say that they are living this lifestyle.
I can see that the tendency to be bothered by CDD is a matter of consensuality and also reality. IF this is real (I have to wonder...) then maybe these women are being sort of brainwashed by their churches to participate even though they don't want to. And of course a lack of consent is just violence, and that's not acceptable.
So... I can see the objection. However, I don't think that there is any more to object to in CDD than there is in regular DD. A woman can be raised in a DD household and made to believe that this is what she should do, or she can be talked into it by a man even if she is against it. This would, of course, also be unacceptable.
The people I talk to about CDD are very similar to people I've met (online only) who practice DD. It is a matter of consensuality. You don't see women online saying that they wouldn't let their husbands spank them except that they think God wants them to. It is just as consensual as DD - an agreement to accept and give discipline made before the actual event. It's just that CDD couples say that they believe this is God's way to a happy marriage (DDers will often say it's their own way to a happy marriage).
If you ask me, there's a huge amount of sexuality in CDD. But if you ask others, they will tell you there's not. And what do I know? This is not something I practice. However just the fact that it involves fiction is a good indication.
I am not a right-wing conservative type... um, at all. So why do I want to read about those who are? I'm not sure, but I think it has to do with this fantasy of security I find in these really conservative groups where people separate themselves from the rest of the world. Do I think this is real security? Absolutely not. However I am very much attracted to the fantasy of it.
CDD fiction is full of these perfect, God-fearing, highly ethical men. (Do conservative Christian men, in general, fit this description? In my experience, that's a big loud NO). But how I love those guys in my fiction. These men are infallible. They are intelligent, friendly and authoritative. They would never, ever cheat on their wives. These are some terrific made-up men.
I guess if I'm being completely honest, the lack of consent does appeal to my fantasies too. (Not reality, fantasy.) The idea of a place/group where women get spanked and have no choice is appealing sexually... again, in fantasy. Does this make me an evil, anti-feminist, rotten tomato? Maybe, but I don't care. What turns me on is what turns me on, and I'm not going to apologize for that.
So to summarize my little self-indulgent rambling (that's what a blog is for, yes?) I like CDD fiction. I like it a lot. It pushes my buttons. Do I fear that CDD fiction is somehow putting real women in danger? No. If there are conservative Christians who are putting women in these kind of positions against their will, I am absolutely not in favor of that (although I suppose there is a question of an adult having the right to put herself in certain situations based on her religious beliefs and what she wants.... but that's another thought journey). But I don't think CDD fiction has anything to do with wife-battering. It's about sex, and that's the way I like it!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Why I'm Illuminated
I mentioned before that The Church of the Illuminated stories are my favorites of the stories that I have written.
I've been writing spanking stories almost since I can remember. I have a few stuffed away that were written when I was as young as 7 or 8 years old. I've experimented with a lot of different styles, and of course my knowledge and tastes have changed over the years. The main theme remains the same.
Anyway The Illuminated came from an old fantasy that started in my mind long ago. I grew up not too far from what could only be described as a religious compound. I didn't know any of these people, and I was fascinated. The women wore long skirts, and the children didn't go to public school.
I began making stories up about them in my mind and then writing them down. Slowly these people morphed into my Illuminated.
Of course I realize that the real group that started it all is surely nothing like the group in my mind, but I rather like my version of a fun-loving, sex-crazed, wife-spanking religious cult. I hope you like it, too!
Thrice Illuminated is available now at Lulu in print or as a download. The first chapter is in this post.
I've been writing spanking stories almost since I can remember. I have a few stuffed away that were written when I was as young as 7 or 8 years old. I've experimented with a lot of different styles, and of course my knowledge and tastes have changed over the years. The main theme remains the same.
Anyway The Illuminated came from an old fantasy that started in my mind long ago. I grew up not too far from what could only be described as a religious compound. I didn't know any of these people, and I was fascinated. The women wore long skirts, and the children didn't go to public school.
I began making stories up about them in my mind and then writing them down. Slowly these people morphed into my Illuminated.
Of course I realize that the real group that started it all is surely nothing like the group in my mind, but I rather like my version of a fun-loving, sex-crazed, wife-spanking religious cult. I hope you like it, too!
Thrice Illuminated is available now at Lulu in print or as a download. The first chapter is in this post.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Distracted
Well, I'd planned to get Illuminated 3 up today... but then I wasted a bunch of time watching videos on Spanking Tube instead.
Yum.
Yum.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Thrice Illuminated
Of the stories I've written, the Church of the Illuminated stories are my favorites. I'll tell you more about why later. Right now I wanted to give you a glimpse into Part 3, which I'm planning to make available tomorrow. Here's the first chapter:
Church of the Illuminated Part Three
by Jennie May
Chapter One
“Let’s get going,” Eric called from the living room of our one bedroom apartment.
I stuck my head out of the bedroom door. He was sitting on the sofa, absently flicking through the channels with his remote. He looked annoyed. I’d just finished showering, drying my hair and putting on makeup. I was standing in my panties and bra trying to figure out what I was going to wear. “I’m not ready,” I told him. “We have time. The wedding isn’t until two.”
“You said you wanted to get lunch, remember?” Eric reminded me. He knew I’d wanted to try a new restaurant on the way to the wedding.
“We have plenty of time,” I insisted.
It had been almost three months since I’d broken the lease on my apartment to move in with Eric. Those months had been mostly bliss. I was head-over-heels for this guy. At least I was most of the time.
I looked at my closet and tried to decide what to wear. What on earth is appropriate for an Illuminated wedding? I’d asked Eric, but he only said to wear something pretty. The wedding was taking place in the afternoon, so I knew I didn’t have to go formal. I wondered if a skirt and blouse would be dressy enough. Then I wondered if my skirt would be too short.
“What is taking so long?” Eric demanded. He came through the door looking angry. “You’re not dressed? What have you been doing in here?”
“I’ve been trying to find something to wear,” I told him. “I want to look right for your ultra-conservative friends and family.”
Eric grew up as one of The Illuminated, a fact that I was constantly aware of. This religious group was full of people who were caring and kind, but they had some pretty intense beliefs.
The people getting married today were both first cousins of Eric, one on his mom’s side and one on his dad’s. It seemed to me that pretty much everyone in The Illuminated was related somehow. Ambrose was an unusual bride, being twenty and considered an old maid as far as her church was concerned. Her fiance, David, was only a little bit older. This was unusual also. There was often a good ten or even fifteen year difference in the ages of married couples of The Illuminated. Eric’s mother was a youthful forty-five, but his father was sixty.
Eric was no longer part of the group, but he did share some of their values and ideas. In particular, he believed that the man was the head of the house. This meant that in our relationship, he had total authority.
I knew that was the case, and I was okay with it. I’d always been naturally submissive, and I enjoyed power games during sex. Besides, I was curious about what it would be like to be in a relationship where I was subject to my partner’s rules and discipline. The truth was that it brought me a security that I hadn’t felt before, and the thought of it was kind of sexy. Of course I’d only been at it for two months, and nothing significant had happened. That was about to change.
Eric strode to the closet and grabbed a long skirt and a t-shirt. He thrust them at me. “Here. Wear this.”
I took the things and returned them to the closet. “Not only are those inappropriate for a wedding, they don’t even go together!”
“Well put something on,” he demanded.
“I am!” I yelled. “Get the hell out of here! I’ll be ready when I’m ready!”
Eric stared at me, and I stared back. I’d expected him to mutter something angry and then leave the room. Instead he just looked at me with this weird intensity.
“What?” I said finally, just to break the silence.
“I am warning you,” he said calmly, his eyes drilling into mine, “to change your tone and to do as I tell you.”
I should have stopped there. I should have apologized and just put something on. I couldn’t, though. I had to know what would happen. I had to know if he would really do what he’d said he would do. There was only one way to find out.
“I thought I told you to leave,” I spat.
That did it. Eric reached for me and easily pulled me down onto the bed. He was a lot bigger than me, and he was a lot stronger. It was no problem at all for him to sit down on the bed and then wrestle me across his lap.
My fight or flight response kicked in, and I struggled for all I was worth. Suddenly I did not want to know what it was like to be in a domestic discipline situation. It did not seem sexy. I was scared. My chest was fluttering, and my stomach was churning. When I couldn’t get away, I started to beg.
“Eric, please,” I whined.
He sighed and put a hand on my panties. “Let’s talk about this.”
“Will you let me up?”
“No way,” he said. “This is the perfect position to talk.”
I let my head drop onto the bedspread. Eric held me by the waist. My legs dangled out into the air.
I waited for him to say something.
“You know how I feel about our relationship,” Eric told me. “You are so very important to me, babe. But I believe in a traditional relationship. I expect you to do as I tell you, and I expect you to accept my decisions about the consequences. If you aren’t willing to do that, then you need to tell me right now.”
I thought for a moment. Was I willing to do that? Here I was, over his lap and no doubt about to get spanked for my behavior. Did I want this? “I am,” I told him. “I’m just scared.”
“You should be scared,” he said. “This is about discipline, not sex.”
My eyes began to water. How could I be crying when nothing had happened? Eric had spanked me many times before, always as a form of sexy foreplay. He had never spanked me for my behavior.
“Aren’t we going to be late?” I asked him, trying another tactic.
“We’re skipping lunch,” he announced. “This is more important.”
I felt something inside me sink down to my toes.
“I don’t want to hear you talking to me that way again,” Eric said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said in a very small voice.
Eric began whacking my panties at full force. It stung immediately. Within seconds, it was full-fledged pain. The smacks were painful by themselves, but the way they accumulated was unbearable. My bottom felt like it was one big ball of heat. I tried to speak, but nothing came out when I opened my mouth except for a whine. I could feel tears gather in my eyes and then fall down my face. I started to cry out loud.
This is when Eric took my panties down. He’d seen me naked a hundred times, and I yet I was embarrassed for him to see my bare bottom in these circumstances. Eric continued the spanking, and I cried harder. On bare skin, the sting was more intense and my bottom was getting more tender by the moment. When I realized that I had no control over when this was going to end, I began to panic. My legs kicked on their own, and I pounded the bed with my fists. Eric spanked on. Finally the fight was gone from me, and I melted into the bedspread. I was limp over his lap, conquered.
He stood me up then and placed me in front of him. He looked me in the eye, and I looked at the floor. “Are you ready to behave yourself?”
I nodded. I was too embarrassed to speak to him. I was also extremely turned on. Somewhere during that spanking, the sexy had returned. I wondered if Eric noticed, but I didn’t ask him.
“How do you feel?” he asked me.
I chewed on my lip. “Embarrassed,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay, that’s good. Anything else?”
“My butt hurts,” I told him.
He smiled. “Also good.”
“I’m sorry I talked to you like that. I don’t know why I did that,” I said honestly.
“Oh babe,” Eric said. I could see his eyes soften right in front of me. He stood up and put his arms around me. Then he kissed me deeply.
I kissed him back, hard, grabbing his hair with my hands. I was burning with lust and I didn’t have to wonder long if he was too. Eric pressed against me, and I felt him hard inside his black pants.
“It’s not supposed to happen like this,” Eric mumbled, apparently to himself.
“Hm?” I breathed into his ear.
“I don’t want you to associate punishment with sex,” he whispered, grasping me under my bottom and lifting me toward him.
“I’ve associated punishment with sex my whole life,” I answered. I leaned into him, and he bit my ear. It sent shivers up and down my body.
He continued nibbling on my ear and then my neck. Then he licked his way down to my bra and bit my breasts likely. It was a tiny pain, a prick, and it made me crazy with desire.
Eric put me on the bed face down and began kissing the back of my neck. He kissed his way right down my spine, stopping to lick me now and then. I groaned and wiggled, but he held me still. When he got to the base of my spine, he kissed my bottom. My panties were still around my thighs. These he pulled off and tossed onto the floor. When he opened my legs, I shuddered. He was an expert with his tongue. He moved it around toward my clit. Then he turned me over and finished the job.
My clit began to swell with the touch of his tongue. I pushed my pelvis toward him, and he took hold of my legs. Then he lightly bit the inside of my thighs.
“Oh Eric,” I breathed, on the edge.
His tongue moved back to my clit and began flittering back and forth. It was enough. I came hard, feeling my juices flowing out of control. My body rocked with intensity, and I even cried out. Then I fell back onto the bed.
I was relaxed for a moment, but then Eric started kissing me again. He stopped for a moment to remove his pants, shirt, undershirt and underwear. Naked, he climbed on top of me. His cock was swollen and ready. I grabbed hold of it, wanting to feel its thickness. Then I got up and pushed him into my mouth.
I let my tongue tease him the way he had teased me, tracing circles and moving in and out. I put one hand around the base of him, and with the other I cupped his balls.
He went still and groaned. Then he said, “I want to come inside you.”
I let go of him and let him fall onto me. He entered me quickly, and I knew he was about to burst. We moved together on the bed until he released.
Once he’d had a chance to catch his breath, he said, “We’re not supposed to have sex after a spanking.”
“We always have sex after a spanking,” I argued.
He rolled next to me and settled into the pillow. “No, I mean after discipline. That’s unless we have disciplinary sex. You’re not supposed to enjoy it. Well, not too much.”
“I think I’ll always enjoy it,” I told him. “But if it’s any consolation, my butt still hurts a lot.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Do you feel punished?”
“Punished and loved,” I told him honestly.
He put his arms around me and held me tight. We stayed there together for a long time before Eric announced it was time to get going or we’d miss the whole wedding.
I chose a black skirt and a black and white top. I was worried that someone might be upset that I was wearing black to a wedding, but Eric said to let it go. I obeyed him and let it go. It felt good.
Church of the Illuminated Part Three
by Jennie May
Chapter One
“Let’s get going,” Eric called from the living room of our one bedroom apartment.
I stuck my head out of the bedroom door. He was sitting on the sofa, absently flicking through the channels with his remote. He looked annoyed. I’d just finished showering, drying my hair and putting on makeup. I was standing in my panties and bra trying to figure out what I was going to wear. “I’m not ready,” I told him. “We have time. The wedding isn’t until two.”
“You said you wanted to get lunch, remember?” Eric reminded me. He knew I’d wanted to try a new restaurant on the way to the wedding.
“We have plenty of time,” I insisted.
It had been almost three months since I’d broken the lease on my apartment to move in with Eric. Those months had been mostly bliss. I was head-over-heels for this guy. At least I was most of the time.
I looked at my closet and tried to decide what to wear. What on earth is appropriate for an Illuminated wedding? I’d asked Eric, but he only said to wear something pretty. The wedding was taking place in the afternoon, so I knew I didn’t have to go formal. I wondered if a skirt and blouse would be dressy enough. Then I wondered if my skirt would be too short.
“What is taking so long?” Eric demanded. He came through the door looking angry. “You’re not dressed? What have you been doing in here?”
“I’ve been trying to find something to wear,” I told him. “I want to look right for your ultra-conservative friends and family.”
Eric grew up as one of The Illuminated, a fact that I was constantly aware of. This religious group was full of people who were caring and kind, but they had some pretty intense beliefs.
The people getting married today were both first cousins of Eric, one on his mom’s side and one on his dad’s. It seemed to me that pretty much everyone in The Illuminated was related somehow. Ambrose was an unusual bride, being twenty and considered an old maid as far as her church was concerned. Her fiance, David, was only a little bit older. This was unusual also. There was often a good ten or even fifteen year difference in the ages of married couples of The Illuminated. Eric’s mother was a youthful forty-five, but his father was sixty.
Eric was no longer part of the group, but he did share some of their values and ideas. In particular, he believed that the man was the head of the house. This meant that in our relationship, he had total authority.
I knew that was the case, and I was okay with it. I’d always been naturally submissive, and I enjoyed power games during sex. Besides, I was curious about what it would be like to be in a relationship where I was subject to my partner’s rules and discipline. The truth was that it brought me a security that I hadn’t felt before, and the thought of it was kind of sexy. Of course I’d only been at it for two months, and nothing significant had happened. That was about to change.
Eric strode to the closet and grabbed a long skirt and a t-shirt. He thrust them at me. “Here. Wear this.”
I took the things and returned them to the closet. “Not only are those inappropriate for a wedding, they don’t even go together!”
“Well put something on,” he demanded.
“I am!” I yelled. “Get the hell out of here! I’ll be ready when I’m ready!”
Eric stared at me, and I stared back. I’d expected him to mutter something angry and then leave the room. Instead he just looked at me with this weird intensity.
“What?” I said finally, just to break the silence.
“I am warning you,” he said calmly, his eyes drilling into mine, “to change your tone and to do as I tell you.”
I should have stopped there. I should have apologized and just put something on. I couldn’t, though. I had to know what would happen. I had to know if he would really do what he’d said he would do. There was only one way to find out.
“I thought I told you to leave,” I spat.
That did it. Eric reached for me and easily pulled me down onto the bed. He was a lot bigger than me, and he was a lot stronger. It was no problem at all for him to sit down on the bed and then wrestle me across his lap.
My fight or flight response kicked in, and I struggled for all I was worth. Suddenly I did not want to know what it was like to be in a domestic discipline situation. It did not seem sexy. I was scared. My chest was fluttering, and my stomach was churning. When I couldn’t get away, I started to beg.
“Eric, please,” I whined.
He sighed and put a hand on my panties. “Let’s talk about this.”
“Will you let me up?”
“No way,” he said. “This is the perfect position to talk.”
I let my head drop onto the bedspread. Eric held me by the waist. My legs dangled out into the air.
I waited for him to say something.
“You know how I feel about our relationship,” Eric told me. “You are so very important to me, babe. But I believe in a traditional relationship. I expect you to do as I tell you, and I expect you to accept my decisions about the consequences. If you aren’t willing to do that, then you need to tell me right now.”
I thought for a moment. Was I willing to do that? Here I was, over his lap and no doubt about to get spanked for my behavior. Did I want this? “I am,” I told him. “I’m just scared.”
“You should be scared,” he said. “This is about discipline, not sex.”
My eyes began to water. How could I be crying when nothing had happened? Eric had spanked me many times before, always as a form of sexy foreplay. He had never spanked me for my behavior.
“Aren’t we going to be late?” I asked him, trying another tactic.
“We’re skipping lunch,” he announced. “This is more important.”
I felt something inside me sink down to my toes.
“I don’t want to hear you talking to me that way again,” Eric said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said in a very small voice.
Eric began whacking my panties at full force. It stung immediately. Within seconds, it was full-fledged pain. The smacks were painful by themselves, but the way they accumulated was unbearable. My bottom felt like it was one big ball of heat. I tried to speak, but nothing came out when I opened my mouth except for a whine. I could feel tears gather in my eyes and then fall down my face. I started to cry out loud.
This is when Eric took my panties down. He’d seen me naked a hundred times, and I yet I was embarrassed for him to see my bare bottom in these circumstances. Eric continued the spanking, and I cried harder. On bare skin, the sting was more intense and my bottom was getting more tender by the moment. When I realized that I had no control over when this was going to end, I began to panic. My legs kicked on their own, and I pounded the bed with my fists. Eric spanked on. Finally the fight was gone from me, and I melted into the bedspread. I was limp over his lap, conquered.
He stood me up then and placed me in front of him. He looked me in the eye, and I looked at the floor. “Are you ready to behave yourself?”
I nodded. I was too embarrassed to speak to him. I was also extremely turned on. Somewhere during that spanking, the sexy had returned. I wondered if Eric noticed, but I didn’t ask him.
“How do you feel?” he asked me.
I chewed on my lip. “Embarrassed,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay, that’s good. Anything else?”
“My butt hurts,” I told him.
He smiled. “Also good.”
“I’m sorry I talked to you like that. I don’t know why I did that,” I said honestly.
“Oh babe,” Eric said. I could see his eyes soften right in front of me. He stood up and put his arms around me. Then he kissed me deeply.
I kissed him back, hard, grabbing his hair with my hands. I was burning with lust and I didn’t have to wonder long if he was too. Eric pressed against me, and I felt him hard inside his black pants.
“It’s not supposed to happen like this,” Eric mumbled, apparently to himself.
“Hm?” I breathed into his ear.
“I don’t want you to associate punishment with sex,” he whispered, grasping me under my bottom and lifting me toward him.
“I’ve associated punishment with sex my whole life,” I answered. I leaned into him, and he bit my ear. It sent shivers up and down my body.
He continued nibbling on my ear and then my neck. Then he licked his way down to my bra and bit my breasts likely. It was a tiny pain, a prick, and it made me crazy with desire.
Eric put me on the bed face down and began kissing the back of my neck. He kissed his way right down my spine, stopping to lick me now and then. I groaned and wiggled, but he held me still. When he got to the base of my spine, he kissed my bottom. My panties were still around my thighs. These he pulled off and tossed onto the floor. When he opened my legs, I shuddered. He was an expert with his tongue. He moved it around toward my clit. Then he turned me over and finished the job.
My clit began to swell with the touch of his tongue. I pushed my pelvis toward him, and he took hold of my legs. Then he lightly bit the inside of my thighs.
“Oh Eric,” I breathed, on the edge.
His tongue moved back to my clit and began flittering back and forth. It was enough. I came hard, feeling my juices flowing out of control. My body rocked with intensity, and I even cried out. Then I fell back onto the bed.
I was relaxed for a moment, but then Eric started kissing me again. He stopped for a moment to remove his pants, shirt, undershirt and underwear. Naked, he climbed on top of me. His cock was swollen and ready. I grabbed hold of it, wanting to feel its thickness. Then I got up and pushed him into my mouth.
I let my tongue tease him the way he had teased me, tracing circles and moving in and out. I put one hand around the base of him, and with the other I cupped his balls.
He went still and groaned. Then he said, “I want to come inside you.”
I let go of him and let him fall onto me. He entered me quickly, and I knew he was about to burst. We moved together on the bed until he released.
Once he’d had a chance to catch his breath, he said, “We’re not supposed to have sex after a spanking.”
“We always have sex after a spanking,” I argued.
He rolled next to me and settled into the pillow. “No, I mean after discipline. That’s unless we have disciplinary sex. You’re not supposed to enjoy it. Well, not too much.”
“I think I’ll always enjoy it,” I told him. “But if it’s any consolation, my butt still hurts a lot.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Do you feel punished?”
“Punished and loved,” I told him honestly.
He put his arms around me and held me tight. We stayed there together for a long time before Eric announced it was time to get going or we’d miss the whole wedding.
I chose a black skirt and a black and white top. I was worried that someone might be upset that I was wearing black to a wedding, but Eric said to let it go. I obeyed him and let it go. It felt good.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Spanking, With A Side of Sex
Can it really be just about discipline? Are there really people who live DD where sexuality doesn't play the tiniest role?
I dunno.
I take it a step farther myself. I like sex all mixed up with discipline. In my stories I've written about using anal sex, forced touching and even rough sex almost as a form of punishment. I'm not sure I'd be interested in this kind of relationship IRL, but this kind of consensual rape so to speak does pop up in my dark fantasies.
The first time I read a story like this was years ago. It was called "Jessie and Her Daddy" and sometimes "Sweet Gestures". It was written by someone who called him or herself Uninhibited. That was one time when I read a story and my buttons were pushed HARD by something I'd never really thought about before. I would say it inspired the kind of age play I like to write now.
I dunno.
I take it a step farther myself. I like sex all mixed up with discipline. In my stories I've written about using anal sex, forced touching and even rough sex almost as a form of punishment. I'm not sure I'd be interested in this kind of relationship IRL, but this kind of consensual rape so to speak does pop up in my dark fantasies.
The first time I read a story like this was years ago. It was called "Jessie and Her Daddy" and sometimes "Sweet Gestures". It was written by someone who called him or herself Uninhibited. That was one time when I read a story and my buttons were pushed HARD by something I'd never really thought about before. I would say it inspired the kind of age play I like to write now.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Spanking in Autumn
Halloween and fall in general really get my fantasies going.
There's something about the autumn that makes spanking play even more fun. It might have to do with the feeling you get when that chilly air hits your bare bottom. Yum. Also there's something sexy about pumpkins. Laugh if you want!
Haybales, hayrides (especially scary Halloween ones where you have to grab your daddy close!), apple picking, and candy of course are some of my favorite things.
I dress up every year, usually a furry animal of some kind but sometimes a cute outfit with a short, full skirt.
Excuse me. I'm going to go make a pile of crunchy leaves and JUMP IN IT!
There's something about the autumn that makes spanking play even more fun. It might have to do with the feeling you get when that chilly air hits your bare bottom. Yum. Also there's something sexy about pumpkins. Laugh if you want!
Haybales, hayrides (especially scary Halloween ones where you have to grab your daddy close!), apple picking, and candy of course are some of my favorite things.
I dress up every year, usually a furry animal of some kind but sometimes a cute outfit with a short, full skirt.
Excuse me. I'm going to go make a pile of crunchy leaves and JUMP IN IT!
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Spanking in Advertisements
Hey sex sells. These two vintage ads and two modern ones are hot, hot, hot.
Friday, October 23, 2009
A Peek At Audrey
It's hard to french braid pigtails. For one thing you have to hold your arms up for a long time, and they start to ache. You can't look in the mirror much because you get all twisty turny with your fingers. Sometimes you get all done and it looks really good except for there's this one bump of hair that's driving you crazy. Your daddy says no one will notice and hurry up let's get in the car. But you can't stand that bump! So you pull at it and then you have a big strand of hair falling down over your french braid, and that just doesn't look right at all.
You daddy says come on RIGHT NOW.
Blah. You have to undo your pigtail and start all over again. Your daddy says why don't you just wear regular pigtails today because we're running late. Then you have to stamp your foot and remind him that you WANT to wear french braid pigtails. What you want is what you want.
Then your daddy comes into the bedroom, and he is not looking so happy. He tells you that you have 30 seconds to get your little behind out to the car. You cannot complete a french braid pigtail in 30 seconds. You can't even complete a real pigtail in 30 seconds.
You could take down your hair, brush it out and go like that. But you WANT french braid pigtails!
So you give your daddy a big pouty face and tell him a little too sharply that you will be ready when you are ready.
Your daddy does not respond to your commands as you do to his. Instead he marches toward you. You realize what's happening and instinctively back away. Your daddy lifts your full, short skirt in one hand and smacks your panties hard with the other. He is fast. This only takes him about 5 seconds. You wonder if he knows how to french braid a pigtail.
You jump and squeal and turn to your daddy. WHAT?
Your daddy explains that he has had it up to here (where?) with these pigtails and that you are getting into the car right this second.
You rub the sore spot on your bottom and explain that you will not be going anywhere until you are finished.
Your daddy sighs. Then he drags you onto the bed and flips you over his lap. He is quite good at this. He pins you down and takes the hairbrush out of your hand. It is only plastic, but that's bad enough.
He pulls down your panties and spanks you hard with the hairbrush. The spanks come fast and furious, and you begin to wiggle for all you are worth. The heat in your bottom has built very quickly. There is no warm-up here. This is a quick job designed to make you very uncomfortable for the upcoming car ride. It's to remind you that you are not the person in charge.
You are reminded. Your bottom stings, and the tears are pooling but not falling when your daddy lifts you to your feet. You glance at the mirror. Your skirt is still up, and your panties are still down. You can see that your daddy has painted your bottom a mostly bright pink with a few variations. You can also see that your hair has come undone on both sides.
Your daddy asks you if you are ready to behave yourself. You nod and sniff. He gives you a little kiss on the forehead and then takes your hand to lead you out to the car. He has tossed the hairbrush onto the bed. You grab it as you follow him out the door. You will do your french braid pigtails in the car. It might be harder that way, but it will keep your mind off your burning bottom.
It's hard to french braid pigtails.
You daddy says come on RIGHT NOW.
Blah. You have to undo your pigtail and start all over again. Your daddy says why don't you just wear regular pigtails today because we're running late. Then you have to stamp your foot and remind him that you WANT to wear french braid pigtails. What you want is what you want.
Then your daddy comes into the bedroom, and he is not looking so happy. He tells you that you have 30 seconds to get your little behind out to the car. You cannot complete a french braid pigtail in 30 seconds. You can't even complete a real pigtail in 30 seconds.
You could take down your hair, brush it out and go like that. But you WANT french braid pigtails!
So you give your daddy a big pouty face and tell him a little too sharply that you will be ready when you are ready.
Your daddy does not respond to your commands as you do to his. Instead he marches toward you. You realize what's happening and instinctively back away. Your daddy lifts your full, short skirt in one hand and smacks your panties hard with the other. He is fast. This only takes him about 5 seconds. You wonder if he knows how to french braid a pigtail.
You jump and squeal and turn to your daddy. WHAT?
Your daddy explains that he has had it up to here (where?) with these pigtails and that you are getting into the car right this second.
You rub the sore spot on your bottom and explain that you will not be going anywhere until you are finished.
Your daddy sighs. Then he drags you onto the bed and flips you over his lap. He is quite good at this. He pins you down and takes the hairbrush out of your hand. It is only plastic, but that's bad enough.
He pulls down your panties and spanks you hard with the hairbrush. The spanks come fast and furious, and you begin to wiggle for all you are worth. The heat in your bottom has built very quickly. There is no warm-up here. This is a quick job designed to make you very uncomfortable for the upcoming car ride. It's to remind you that you are not the person in charge.
You are reminded. Your bottom stings, and the tears are pooling but not falling when your daddy lifts you to your feet. You glance at the mirror. Your skirt is still up, and your panties are still down. You can see that your daddy has painted your bottom a mostly bright pink with a few variations. You can also see that your hair has come undone on both sides.
Your daddy asks you if you are ready to behave yourself. You nod and sniff. He gives you a little kiss on the forehead and then takes your hand to lead you out to the car. He has tossed the hairbrush onto the bed. You grab it as you follow him out the door. You will do your french braid pigtails in the car. It might be harder that way, but it will keep your mind off your burning bottom.
It's hard to french braid pigtails.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
When Age Play and DD Mix
Picture a couple in a male dominant domestic discipline relationship. The woman has done something that the couple has previously agreed will require punishment. So the man sends the woman to put on her "punishment clothes".
You've heard of this, right? You see it in a lot of stories, and people talk about it on message boards. I suppose punishment clothes could mean something else (like a frilly apron and nothing else!) but most of the time it invloves the woman dressing up... not so much as a child but as a kind of fantasy child in short frilly dresses and pigtails. These kinds of clothes are often used in age play games, but apparently they are also used for discipline.
So what's up with this? Is this something the woman has chosen, or is it part of the discipline? I definitely get the idea that much of the time the outfit is part of the punishment. I guess it could be used to get the woman into a certain, childlike state of mind.
When I'm being spanked, especially otk, I start to shrink inside. I feel little, like a child. It's not a bad thing. In fact it gives me a feeling of security. I wonder if the clothing does something similar?
Or is the clothing intended to embarass the woman, adding to her punishment?
I like the possibilities of clothing in any kind of power exchange relationship. I like being told to wear certain panties under my clothes or no panties at all so that he can have easier access to my bottom. There have been several terrific stories where a man asks a woman, in public, to go to the restroom and remove her panties. That makes me all shivery.
If you are young enough and small enough, you could wear little girls' clothes and actually look like a real little girl. Does anyone really pull this off in public? I love the idea that people do! I'm small myself and could probably look very young, but I don't know if I would have the courage to do this... and I've never had a top ask me to. :-)
The age play clothes for time at home are different, though. Often they look like those sparkly little clothes pageant kids wear. Made specifically for ageplay, they will often feature a drop-seat (pajamas) or even a tie on the dress so that it can be pulled up and away from a bare bottom.
I know that lots of people like to use nudity in a DD relationship, but that's not for me. I like to have my bottom uncovered. It makes me feel submissive, like I am subject to authority. Being nude would make me feel... visually groped.
Do some couples in DD relationships use age play props (like clothes) for discipline but not engage in actual age play? Or do these typically go hand-in-hand? I wonder...
You've heard of this, right? You see it in a lot of stories, and people talk about it on message boards. I suppose punishment clothes could mean something else (like a frilly apron and nothing else!) but most of the time it invloves the woman dressing up... not so much as a child but as a kind of fantasy child in short frilly dresses and pigtails. These kinds of clothes are often used in age play games, but apparently they are also used for discipline.
So what's up with this? Is this something the woman has chosen, or is it part of the discipline? I definitely get the idea that much of the time the outfit is part of the punishment. I guess it could be used to get the woman into a certain, childlike state of mind.
When I'm being spanked, especially otk, I start to shrink inside. I feel little, like a child. It's not a bad thing. In fact it gives me a feeling of security. I wonder if the clothing does something similar?
Or is the clothing intended to embarass the woman, adding to her punishment?
I like the possibilities of clothing in any kind of power exchange relationship. I like being told to wear certain panties under my clothes or no panties at all so that he can have easier access to my bottom. There have been several terrific stories where a man asks a woman, in public, to go to the restroom and remove her panties. That makes me all shivery.
If you are young enough and small enough, you could wear little girls' clothes and actually look like a real little girl. Does anyone really pull this off in public? I love the idea that people do! I'm small myself and could probably look very young, but I don't know if I would have the courage to do this... and I've never had a top ask me to. :-)
The age play clothes for time at home are different, though. Often they look like those sparkly little clothes pageant kids wear. Made specifically for ageplay, they will often feature a drop-seat (pajamas) or even a tie on the dress so that it can be pulled up and away from a bare bottom.
I know that lots of people like to use nudity in a DD relationship, but that's not for me. I like to have my bottom uncovered. It makes me feel submissive, like I am subject to authority. Being nude would make me feel... visually groped.
Do some couples in DD relationships use age play props (like clothes) for discipline but not engage in actual age play? Or do these typically go hand-in-hand? I wonder...
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Ageplay, What It Is & Isn't
There are a lot of people out there who enjoy ageplay. It comes in many forms, and it is expressed in many ways. Ageplay doesn't have to be a woman pretending to be a child with a man who remains a grown-up. The genders can mix themselves up any which way, and a huge variety of ages can be involve. Adult infants want to wear diapers and use pacifiers. Some of us older girls mostly want to be spanked. The point is that ageplay is definitely out there, and people are definitely interested.
There's a problem, though. The world at large can get a little worked up about this stuff. Why? Well, it's mainly because of some misconceptions.
Ageplay is not about children. This is huge. People who participate in ageplay are not wanna-be pedophiles who just can't find a child to hurt. I'm talking about dominant man, submissive female here because that's what I know. Dominant men I meet who want to play with a "grown-up little girl" have absolutely no interest in children. If they were interested in children, they would not be talking to me!
Ageplay is consensual and gives something to both (or all) participants. I am not being forced or degraded in any way when I participate in ageplay. This is what I want!
Ageplay is not inherently sexual. Okay, for me it is. I like to mix sex with my ageplay. Lots and lots of people who play don't like to have sex involved at all. Know what? Either way is okay because we are talking about consenting adults who have chosen to play a game, can make their own rules and it's really none of your business.
Ahem.
I write to fantasize, and I write to understand myself. I write to work out the demons inside me, and I write to entertain. Ageplay is part of that for me. If it's part of that for you, too, then feel free to express yourself.
There's a problem, though. The world at large can get a little worked up about this stuff. Why? Well, it's mainly because of some misconceptions.
Ageplay is not about children. This is huge. People who participate in ageplay are not wanna-be pedophiles who just can't find a child to hurt. I'm talking about dominant man, submissive female here because that's what I know. Dominant men I meet who want to play with a "grown-up little girl" have absolutely no interest in children. If they were interested in children, they would not be talking to me!
Ageplay is consensual and gives something to both (or all) participants. I am not being forced or degraded in any way when I participate in ageplay. This is what I want!
Ageplay is not inherently sexual. Okay, for me it is. I like to mix sex with my ageplay. Lots and lots of people who play don't like to have sex involved at all. Know what? Either way is okay because we are talking about consenting adults who have chosen to play a game, can make their own rules and it's really none of your business.
Ahem.
I write to fantasize, and I write to understand myself. I write to work out the demons inside me, and I write to entertain. Ageplay is part of that for me. If it's part of that for you, too, then feel free to express yourself.
Hello Out There
Hi, big world. My name is Jennie and I write stories about ageplay, domestic discipline and spanking.
If you don't like that stuff, no problem. Just move on to something you do like.
I need a place to put my thoughts on my sexuality, and I also want to get my stories out there for people to find. More to come. :-)
If you don't like that stuff, no problem. Just move on to something you do like.
I need a place to put my thoughts on my sexuality, and I also want to get my stories out there for people to find. More to come. :-)
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