Wednesday, February 13, 2013

The Yard Stick



It had been a lazy morning that day.  Both of us just lounging around, enjoying the quiet and freedom of the kids being gone.  I received a text from D.  We talked about the possibility of play and he replied he’ll try and swing things around to see if he can drop by.   I made the executive decision to get the house cleaned and me ready for play before I needed to take care of some work before the possible date.  My boy asked about food first, as it was lunch time.

“Sure”, I replied, “but do you want your punishment before or after you eat?”

He stops at the base of the stairs, quietly shifting his feet.  It’s a question he doesn’t want to answer.  It’s a question I know he was hoping I might forget.  He stutters, unable to find the words.  He knew the punishment was coming, but I had kept him ignorant of what the final price actually was which was increasing his dread.  

“Better pick an answer boy or I’ll happily pick on for you”

“After lunch” he quietly states as he turns to head into the kitchen.

After the food is consumed, my boy tries his hand at sucking up.  Kneeling down in front me, he gently takes hold of my foot and begins adoring them with the devotion of a hopeful man about to be hung.  Not able to hold back the laughter at his blatant attempt, I grab him by the chin and force him to look me in the eyes

“Are you trying to butter me up in order to save your hide?” I growl at him.

“It’s not beneath me to grovel and beg”, he says, almost defiantly, “besides... I thought you liked it when I begged”

I couldn’t help but laugh hysterically at that statement, and answered matter of fact, “Why yes...yes I do”, as I let go of his chin to allow him to get back to task.  Maybe it was unfair of me to let him continue.  My resolve was already set.  The plan had been formed.  Absolute nothing he did was going to change the outcome.  But then, I didn’t really see the harm in milking the situation to my advantage.

                          _______________________________________________________

20 mins and 2 orgasms later, I pushed him away with my foot and commanded him off to the bedroom. He hesitated for a min, in order to bow his head before asking me if I would use his Grandpa’s yard stick.  At first I told him no.  I wasn’t interested in adjusting my plan last min.  But then, as I stood up from the couch, my eyes spotted the yard stick lying on the desk.  Something about the site of it changed my mind.  Maybe it was the long length of the stick, stirring an image of how it would sing through the air so nicely as I swung.  Or maybe it was the simple fact that it was a ruler, this was punishment and I liked the sadistic irony of such a classic punishment implement.  Or maybe, just maybe it was the symbolic nature of the fact that it was a sentimental item that tugged at my spiritual side.  Whichever, I snatch the stick off the desk and quickly spun around.
“Actually, I think it might work in quite nicely”, as I tapped it across my palm.  “But you understand the damage I can do with this; you realize what you are asking for?”
He slowly bowed his head again, “Yes Momma.  Thank you Momma.”

And with that I turned and headed upstairs, leaving him to pick himself up and follow.

              ________________________________________________________________

In the bedroom, I set him to task in untying and retying all the ropes so that I could restrain him the way I wanted.  I smiled at the slight cruelty of the task.  The mental torture of having to actually tie your own bonds, knowing that if any one of them slipped... the consequences would be far worse.    Once completed, he stood up.  I placed my hands on his face, kissed him ever so sweetly.  I let my hands slide gently down his arms, taking each wrist and tenderly placing the cuffs on.  I, then, slide behind him, kissing sweetly on his back as I stepped forward slowly, forcing him to the edge of the bed.

“Bend over bitch”, I bark harshly… breaking the spell and shoving him down forcefully.  I stepped around to the other end of the bed and quickly attached the ropes to the cuffs, tightening them just enough to stretch him out to my satisfaction.  I finished my prep by blindfolding him, leaving him in the dark with my words and his pain.  As I stepped back around, I snatched the ruler off the dresser.  To gain a feel for the weight and length of the stick, I began lightly tapping it against his ass.  At the same time, I outlined the extent of his punishment.  Ten hits by the ruler for failing to go to bed when ordered.  But the week long tea incident, that warranted unlimited play-time with the belt for me.  As I finished my speech, my tapping ended with a good hard smack.

“Now, count them out bitch”

At that point, my mind stopped caring about the punishment I felt he deserved.  It didn't matter much to me anymore how much he kicked and screamed.  I looked down at the stick in my hand, felt the urges that first smack rose within me and smiled.  Yes, I was going to enjoy this!!

My time with the yard stick didn’t last long at all.  10 hits wasn’t all that much and even with a long wind up for emphasis... it was over before I knew it.  His ass began to dance by the fourth hit and I realized I hadn’t tied his ankles.  By the 6th, his cheeks were beginning to glow a dark pink.  By the last two, he was yelling out the numbers in a way let me know he hated every minute of it.  It made me a bit wet.  I was actually a bit disappointed when he screamed ten.  Then I remembered… It was belt time...

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Corporal Punishment



Corporal Punishment

It’s a set of words that seems to fire strong reactions from many.  It comes up in about every book or guide about Femdom that I’ve had the opportunity to glance.  Often when it comes up on Fetlife, you’ll see a lot of comments like “I never hit in anger”, “My sub is a grown up, not a child”.  On other boards, it swings the opposite way to comments like, “needing a strong hand”, “Keeping him in his place”.  There are suggestions that abound along the lines of chore boards and punishment schedules… and it all makes me wonder how much thought people actually put into all of this.

For the record, I maintain a corporal punishment dynamic and I enjoy it immensely.  While my boy does enjoy the heavy hand and it works well to keep him in his place… I’d be lying if I say I wasn’t smiling while doling out his punishments, and that’s exactly why it works so well.  Those silly lines, “this hurts me more than it hurts you.” yeah... complete bullshit in my world.

Early on, it wasn’t always that way though.  When we first started, my ignorance led me to follow the options laid out in the books I read.  I made my list of rules, assigned the punishments for breaking each one and off we went… except we didn’t.  It took less than 3 months before I knew it wasn’t working.  It wasn’t just one reason that made it not work… more like a collection of them.  For one, I’m just not big on rules and protocols... so there wasn’t a lot of motivation on my part to really keep track of what he did wrong.  Add to that my empathetic and sympathetic nature often had me making excuses for why this action didn’t warrant punishment and that action made me feel like I needed to lessen them.  My actions in turn signaled to my boy, the bratty switch that he is, that I didn’t care enough to demand his submission.  So I dropped it all together.  

After dropping the above, there really weren’t any rules for him to break, all I asked for was final authority, a level of respect as the Domme, and enough kinky play times to keep me satisfied.  We floated along for a while, doing pretty well most of the time.  He is just naturally pretty attentive to me and eager to please, so it was easy to just sit back and enjoy it.  I’m not one to make many demands, so when I did; there wasn’t much real fuss to comply coming from him (playful complaints... but not fuss).  When he would get a bit cheeky, I enjoyed throwing him over my knee to give him a better sense of perspective.  It was a very simple corporal punishment dynamic.  It was easy to see why this was the way most Dommes tend to prefer things.  It’s simple and easy at face value.  I say, he does.  Period.  

But we human beings are NOT simple creatures at all.  When I say it worked most of the time, it highlights that it didn’t work "some" of the time.  The major problem was that those times it didn’t work were usually when we needed it to work the most.  Those moments when both our lives were running us ragged and there was no time for me to tell him what I needed, no time for him to focus and ask me what I needed, no protocols for us to fall back on.  It left us rudderless, and it frustrated me at such an unbelievable level... I would literally snap. 

When the snap happened in December, I knew I was at the end of my rope.  We had to find something better.  We argued a lot during that time; at times it was pretty ugly.  We found some peace in the decision that we both agreed we had something too special to let an issue like this get in the way.  We calmed down, and we talked.  We talked for days, until the days turned into weeks.  Somewhere in all the mess, it dawned on me that what we needed was a steady rudder to keep the dynamic alive when neither one of us had the strength to be the oar.  I needed ways to keep him attentive when I couldn't actively ask for it.  Those rules and protocols I often scoffed at were exactly the type of rudder we probably needed.  I think deep down I knew this for some time, but was fighting it based on past experiences.  So I made the decision, which I could tell my boy was very happy to see.  It took nearly another two weeks and lots of thought to build the “rules”, and I still ended up with barely half a page.  But my desire is that this simple list will be just the rudder we need, yet avoid the pitfalls we’ve dealt with before.

Of course only time will tell if this will do the trick.  It's been a little over two weeks since the "rules" were put into place.  It’ll take time for us both to acclimate, and then of course we have to wait till hit one of those moments to see how well it steers us.  Though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the thought of “helping” my boy learn the new rules kinda excites me and my paddle quite a bit!

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Thoughts



As I settle in on the couch, wiping the sleep from my eyes, you quickly moved to kneel down in front of me.  You look upon me with a face full of complete devotion and adoration.  I felt my whole body get warm from just that simple look from you.  You slowly reach out and gently caress my foot between your hands.  You lower your head and begin to kiss my foot softly, lovingly.  As I watch you caress my feet, my mind begins to fill with thoughts of devouring you.  To rip you wide open so I can kiss you much deeper.  My mind contemplates how such sweetness from you brings out such a dangerous hunger in me.  

I shift positions so I can have better control and begin taking over the moment.  I slowly start pushing my toes down your throat, as you open your mouth wide to accept all that I can force your body to take.  Placing my other foot on your chest, I shove you back slightly just to get a better look at you.  I start with those hazy eyes of yours, I slowly draw my eyes down your body, letting my toes follow a beat behind.  Tracing your jaw line, the pressure causes your head to turn.  The site of your neck makes my mouth water.  I push up on your chin to expose your neck, toying with the thoughts in my head.  To kiss, nibble, trace my tongue across the veins.  Sink my teeth in, maybe even draw a little blood.  I contemplate the images it brings forth in my head, the possible reactions from you. 

I trail the other foot down your neck and across your chest as I imagine you lying on the floor, my foot square on your throat, your eyes staring at me, so trusting.  I wonder what you think about as the ability to breath disappears.  Do you ever worry I’ll press to hard?  Or do you simply feel at home, taking in the sensations, knowing I will let up when you need that next breath?  As that face turns red, and you begin wiggling to find air, do you question that faith in me?  Or do you simply go blank, instinct taking over, desperate for the breath only Momma can give to you?

As my foot finally finds your cock, my wandering mind snaps back to reality.  

“Mmmmm, already so hard and wet”, I think to myself... as the wicked thoughts of what to do to you starts flowing through my mind like a motion picture on fast forward.  Now the only questions is… just where to begin.