jean-paul944

[jean-paul944]

Wonderful!

What do others fantasise about?

Just thinking about the possibilities is strangely fascinating, isn't it? Part of us longs to peer into the most intimate corners of others’ minds, whilst another wants to be reassured that we’re not quite as weird as we’ve always secretly feared.

According to a survey by a prominent sex researcher, the seven most popular categories of sexual fantasies are as follows:

Intimacy with or in front of strangers

BDSM / Power play (domination and submission, spanking, rough sex)

Novelty, adventure, and variety (sex toys, new locations, role-playing)

Taboo and transgressive sex (e.g. voyeurism, exhibitionism, promiscuity)

Passion, romance, and intimacy (feeling wanted, attention, love and lust)

Non-monogamy and partner sharing

Erotic flexibility (going beyond expected roles, e.g. cross-dressing, switching)

I wanted to explore why some fantasies resonate with us far more than others — and also answer the question: why do we actually fantasise at all? I hope you'll find the resulting essay interesting, reassuring, and inspiring.

[jean-paul944]

Oh my goodness, the full essay is absolutely phantastic!!!

An excerpt from a new essay about strictness and perfectionism:

Even if kink isn’t their thing, an individual with a strict mind is likely to be self-disciplined, rule-oriented, and control-focused. They’ll want to impose structure on themselves and value it in their environments. They yearn for clear boundaries, and clear thresholds of what’s good enough. They thrive on consistency, and see strictness as a virtue.

So it’s not difficult to see how such a mindset could influence an individual’s needs for intimacy, where their affinity for strictness is manifested as a fascination with power, discipline, and erotic rituals.

In perfectionists, strictness is directed inwards, it’s like being subject to a relentless inner taskmaster. But this chronic self-imposed pressure needs a safety valve. Even if ambitions are channelled into accomplishments, the tension still builds, as our strict internal demands do not come with an off switch.

Perhaps that’s why taking charge - or letting others take charge - is so erotic for so many. During intimacy we yearn to turn the volume of our brain down, to get relief from having to make complicated decisions, the ones that leave us wondering if we've chosen the right thing, or just made others cringe. It's hot to be able to say to someone: take my hand, and don't worry about a thing.

Eroticising our inner strictness, either by taking control of a consenting partner, or submitting to somebody we trust, gets us out of our own heads. It transmutes a source of potentially hazardous stress into a powerful erotic energy within a consensual game. This act of subversion gives us ownership over what would otherwise intimidate us.

My pet theory is those who love spanking like to eroticise failure or flouting expectations, it’s just we call it ‘being naughty’.

A sexually dominant person can find considerable satisfaction in enforcing rules and being strict with someone other than themselves. The rituals of spanking appeals to their love of order, turning discipline into an act of sensual expression. They enjoy the theatre and choreography that comes from playing with power and control.

Likewise a sexually submissive person might yearn for someone else to take charge, and liberate them from the oppressive pressure of their own strict mind. They enjoy the bliss of being able to turn off their busy brains for a while, and enjoy the physical sensations of their own bodies instead. For such folk, a spanking is far more than slaps on the bum, it’s a catharsis.

[jean-paul944]

Do you think you forget how much spankings actually hurt if you don't experience them yourself?

I'd say no, because inflicting agony has never been my thing. I'm not a sadist, I personally don't think a spanking has to be excruciating to be satisfying. I'd much prefer to give a spanking that was thrilling than one that truly hurt, that wouldn't turn me on at all.

So I've never spanked anyone more than they were comfortable. To stay on the right side of that line requires open communication and continuing consent. I'll often ask: how does that feel? And I love telling partners to beg me for more.

I can't imagine a spanking being conducted where the only sound is that of the smacks. Spanking should be a two-way dialogue, so it remains enjoyable and satisfying for all involved.

The joy of sex is being able to vicariously experience intimate things up close, that we may not personally experience ourselves. I don't have a vagina, but know exactly how to pleasure one in a wide variety of ways. The only way to establish sexual expertise is from candid feedback: by doing, and talking, then doing it better next time.

So I think I've a pretty good understanding of just how sore a spanking can be, because everyone I've ever spanked has told me exactly, and I just love to hear all the exquisite details.

[jean-paul944]

Reflections

I discovered something quite unexpected when I began writing. I realised that it became so much easier to understand myself, and my own desires, when I extracted them from inside my head, and expressed them in words.

I'd been fantasising about kinky scenarios from an early age, but it was only decades later, after I began writing them down, that I realised spanking was my sexuality, and not just some whimsical interest.

Some people think they can look inside and understand themselves purely by thinking, but I think they just end up deceiving themselves. Clarity only comes through words, when we see what we've written unambiguously in front of us - because only then do we have the necessary cognitive distance to walk around it, and critique it.

Meta-thinking - or thinking about thinking - requires a change of perspective. We benefit from fixing transient thoughts into something more permanent, so time can pass and we can look back upon them with fresh eyes.

I realised I can't introspect into my own mind directly, I need to convert thoughts and emotions into words first. Recently a friend sent me a quote by CS Lewis that expresses this notion perfectly:

"I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand."

I think that's excellent advice, for anyone struggling to understand any subject, from how the world works, to explaining peculiar aspects of ourselves.

So if you feel confused about the nature of your own desires, you should write about them. You do not need to publish them, just get them out of your head, and onto a page or screen in front of your eyes. You may be surprised.

When we think of writing, we think of storytelling, because that's how we first encounter it. Stories are how we consume most of the words we read. Yet writing is also a mental mirror, and in our words we can finally see and appreciate the complexities of our own reflection.

[jean-paul944]

Taming the Wasteland - A Fallout 4 Adventure

Book 2 in the Companion Series

Boston 2287. Two hundred years after a nuclear war destroyed mainland USA, and the civilisation that had emerged from the rubble was anything but civilised. The Commonwealth, post nuclear apocalypse, was a wild and unruly place to live. Many armed and dangerous bands operated with almost complete impunity within the state of Massachusetts. Law and order was non-existent. Some claimed a higher cause, others were in it just for the gain, but the one thing all these roaming groups had in common was that they were unhinged, ruthless and fanatical. In order for most normal folk to survive, people had to take up arms of one sort or another and death was a regular and everyday threat for most inhabitants of Boston and the outlying areas.

For Nate, Curie, Cait and Piper, the answer to this everyday threat was to form into a tight knit, well trained military unit. Helping out wherever they could, they soon gained a reputation as a team able to get jobs done. What began as a few errands to earn desperately needed currency in order to survive in this chaotic wasteland, soon became broader quests for the greater good.

Chapter List:

Chapter 1 - Deployment

Chapter 2 - Harem

Chapter 3 - Room Mates

Chapter 4 - Where is Home?

Chapter 5 - Olivia

Chapter 6 - Sanctuary

Chapter 7 - Rubbing Shoulders

Chapter 8 - The Benefit of Science

Chapter 9 - Taking your Medicine

Chapter 10 - The Brotherhood Reimagined

Chapter 11 - The Secret Synth

Chapter 12 - Benevolence Squared

Chapter 13 - From Top to Bottom

Chapter 14 - Different Strokes

Chapter 15 - Heather

Chapter 16 - Laying it Bare

Chapter 17 - Asking Nicely

Chapter 18 - It's Complicated

Chapter 19 - Panic!

Chapter 20 - Forewarmed

Chapter 21 - A Little Bit Hazy

Chapter 22 - Black and Blue

Chapter One - Deployment begins below

Chapter 1 – Deployment

Boston, April 2075, Two years before the bombs fell.

“He’s gonna whoop your ass,” Vanessa laughed as she looked up from her console.

‘She has no idea,’ Valkyrie thought to herself as she stood and smiled at her friend.

“He won’t know, and I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours,” the blond army corporal assured her friend.

“In case it had slipped your notice, the place is on a complete lockdown, and we have orders to stay put.” Vanessa raised her eyebrows at Valkyrie who was stuffing a few items into her small army issue backpack.

Since war had been officially declared by the invasion of Chinese forces into US held Alaska in 2066, the whole of the US had been on a war footing for the previous nine years. More and more US military units were being mobilised and sent to the front to help with the war effort. C Company of the 112th Signal Battalion were the next in line and deployment was only days away. Prior to being shipped out to Alaska the regiment was being housed in the John J. McGlynn Elementary School in Medford, on the outskirts of Boston.

“This is the third security scare in as many days, its just the top brass getting nervous before deployment. The flat isn’t that far away, and I’ll be back in no time.” Valkyrie assured her concerned friend. ‘Vanessa was always the goodie two shoes,’ she thought to herself as she zipped up her bag and threw it onto her shoulder. “They are gonna have to let me out tomorrow anyway as I have my medical at the hospital, so no harm no foul.” Valkyrie shrugged on her bag.

“It’s your hide, honey.” Vanessa exhaled as she turned back to her work.

Valkyrie made her way to the parking lot of the school and to her boyfriend’s truck.

“Going somewhere, baby girl?” came a gruff voice from behind her that made Valkyrie jump.

“Oh hey, I was just …” Valkyrie stammered.

“You were just skipping class, little lady and when you have been told to sit tight.” Came the response from the tall, broad shouldered staff sergeant who was stood looking down at her. Valkyrie sheepishly dropped her eyes, “Well?” Dean continued, “where were you heading that was so important that you needed to disobey your commanding officer’s orders?” The sergeant asked smiling at her.

Valkyrie placed a hand on the chest of her boyfriend and gave him the most coquettish look she could muster. “I was just heading back to the flat for a few things I had forgotten, and I was going to be back before anyone noticed.”

Staff Sergeant Dean Winters looked at his beautiful girlfriend and smiled a particular smile he only ever had for her. “Well in that case, let me drive you baby girl so I can be sure you get back here safe and sound. We are on a security alert at the moment.” He gave his girlfriend a disapproving look. Valkyrie chose to stow her usual sarcastic quip and instead beamed a ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ smile back at him. “It also means we can have a little discussion about you skipping out against orders when we get to the flat, hmm?” His look becoming lascivious. Valkyrie’s stomach did a flip as she knew exactly what that discussion entailed. As her boyfriend opened the passenger car door for her, she slowly and somewhat reluctantly climbed in.

The drive over the river was in silence as Valkyrie cursed her foolishness at trying to head out from the units’ base whilst it was under a security curfew. She should have listened to her friend; little did Vanessa know just how accurate her warning had been. Valkyrie looked over to her boyfriend Dean who was whistling a nondescript tune to himself as he drove. At over six foot three, Dean was an imposing figure with a rugged outdoor look about him. He had a handsome chiselled face with his black hair contrasting against his pale green eyes. They had met the previous year and had become quite a serious item over the last twelve months. Nervous about the impending deployment to Anchorage, she was comforted by the fact that Dean was deploying with her. She enjoyed his protective streak and had been attracted to his dominant paternal nature from the first time they had met. 

Snapped from her reverie as the car pulled up outside their apartment block, Dean was soon out and coming round to her side, opening the car door for her.

“Right little lady, I want you up and into our bedroom on the double, you know what’s coming, so best not keep me waiting,” and with that he landed a firm swat to Valkyrie’s backside. She squealed in protest but moved quickly to open the front door of their apartment block. Valkyrie then ran up the stairs to their first-floor condo and letting herself in headed straight for their bedroom. Stripping off she was careful to fold each item of clothing and place them on the sideboard as she knew she would get more if her clothes were spilled all over the floor. When she was completely naked, she went to their large double bed and slightly straddling one of the bottom corners laid her body flat across the bed. As she lay there, her legs slightly apart, the corner of the bed ensuring her bottom was at just the right angle for her boyfriend’s attentions, she heard him enter the room.

“Hmm,” Dean hummed appreciatively, “Good girl, all ready and eager for a bit of daddy’s discipline,” and with that he went to the closet and took out a thick black leather belt. In a well practiced manner, Dean took the supple leather and bent the belt in half as he moved to stand beside Valkyrie’s now prone body. “Now, you be a good baby girl and you take daddy’s licks, you hear?” he commanded.

“Yes Daddy,” Valkyrie answered in a quiet voice as she turned her head to look at him. Her eyes matching the hunger in his.

Dean took a step back and in one fluid motion brought the leather belt whipping down across the alabaster orbs of Valkyrie’s exposed bottom.

THWACK!

“Agh!” Valkyrie cried as a red stripe of burning fire ignited across the roundest part of her well presented bare bottom. She kicked a leg up in reaction to the stroke but put it back down just in time to receive the second punishing lick.

CRACK!

“FUCK!” Valkyrie squealed as a second fiery red stripe flashed up across her quivering bottom. Her hands shooting out in front of her to grab at the material of the bed.

“No cussing baby girl, you know daddy doesn’t like that. You don’t want me to put soap in that beautiful mouth of yours after your whooping, do you?” Dean lined up the third stroke.

“No Daddy,” was all Valkyrie had time to say as the belt once more bit into the soft flesh of her unprotected rear end.

CRACK!

“Ahh! HA!” Valkyrie cried as she bit down on the bedding below her, screwing her eyes shut against the burning fire.

The third stroke had seared a red line across the tops of the back of her legs, matching in intensity with the two previous strokes. Dean then increased the pace of his delivery.

THWACK! CRACK! CRACK! THWACK!

Valkyrie writhed and bucked under the onslaught, rocking her hips from side to side in reaction to each stroke, as if she could move her burning bottom away from the flurry of smacks.

CRACK! THWACK! THWACK! CRACK!

The punishment continued with Valkyrie trying hard to keep her position as she clawed at the bedding and screamed into the ruffled sheets screwed up into her fingers.

“Agh! Agh!” Were the only muffled sounds coming from Valkyrie as she soaked up the burning strokes.

Fully in his stride now, Dean continued to leather Valkyrie’s backside with the belt for another two minutes before finally bringing the thrashing to an end. Valkyrie’s bottom was now a mass of burgundy strap lines, the ends of many of these lines marked with a purple tip. Dean threw the leather belt onto the bed above Valkyrie’s head, she instinctively looked up to follow where it landed. Despite knowing that her spanking was over, she knew not to move from her position until she was ordered to by her boyfriend. She lay, panting with exertion, blinking the tears away from her eyes. Her backside throbbed from the whipping, and she wanted nothing more than to reach behind and rub some relief into her punished cheeks. ‘Well,’ she thought as she smiled to herself, ‘there is one thing I want more’.

As if sensing the desire in his girlfriend, Dean unclipped his army belt and pants and let them fall to the floor. “You stick that butt out baby girl, I am not done with you yet,” Dean growled hungrily as he moved up to stand behind Valkyrie and with strong arms pulled her hips towards him. Valkyrie squealed again, but this time in pure pleasure as she felt him plunge deep inside her.

“Holy Fuck!” Cait exhaled, blowing out a breath.

“Wow, that’s er…” Piper looked at Valkyrie, an amazed expression on her face.

Since finding Valkyrie imprisoned in Parsons Insane Asylum, the team had headed back south to Finch’s Farm to collect the Red Wave. They had asked the Finch family if they could camp the night and were now sat around the fire listening to Valkyrie and the story of the days leading up to her kidnapping at the hands of Jack Cabot. Even though Nate and the girls were keen to allow Valkyrie to join their team, they were all concerned as to how exactly they were going to explain the discipline dynamic that now formed an integral part of their group. Thankfully, and to the great relief of the team, it seemed that Valkyrie wasn’t at all phased by the idea of corporal punishment being a part of their team make up. Once Nate had inadvertently let that particular cat out of the bag, when Valkyrie overheard Nate threatening Cait with ‘another’ spanking, it was only right that the team explain their dynamic to the newest team member. Not only was Nate as relieved as the girls were that Valkyrie didn’t run away at the mention of a spanking, but he had noticed just how keen she was to be accepted into the team by sharing her own discipline relationship that she had with her boyfriend before her abduction.

“So, you liked calling him Daddy?” Curie asked, showing as much interest in the story as Piper and Cait.

“Kind of,” Valkyrie shrugged, “the whole DDLG thing wasn’t quite my style, but Dean liked it and it didn’t bother me, as we only used it when I was getting punished.”

“DDLG?” Piper asked.

“Daddy Dom Little Girl,” Valkyrie responded in a matter of fact tone. “It was a subsection of the wider BDSM community.” Seeing the puzzled looks she continued, “bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism”.

“Community?” Curie raised her eyebrows, “so you all lived together, non?”

Valkyrie smiled at that, “No, the term was just used to describe anyone who was in to the kink, although there were clubs back in the day that people could meet at. That’s where Dean and I first met.”

“Ah, so not in the army then?” Nate enquired.

“God no, I would have never told anyone in my unit, imagine the complete ribbing I would have received. No, I had no idea Dean was into the same thing I was until I met him at the club, hmm,” Valkyrie smiled at the recollection, “now that’s a story,” she chuckled lightly.

Curie lent forward to top up Nate’s coffee, “Thanks, my love.” Nate responded. Looking at Valkyrie he smiled, “It’s not like we are going anywhere.”

“Yeah, come on V, this is way too good for you not to continue,” Cait added.

“I have talked almost continuously since you guys found me, shouldn’t I let someone else jump in?” Valkyrie looked around at her new team members.

“No, not at all, this is what we do on the road. We chat, share stories and the like. It is a great way to pass the time and also,” Piper paused, “It’s nice getting to know you.”

Valkyrie smiled back at Piper, blushing a little in the firelight. “Well, ok, so…” she took a sip of her own coffee, “I was a regular at the kink nights at the Club Café, which was a venue in downtown Boston. Kink nights were where the many elements of the BDSM community could meet, socialise and play. As a regular I was allowed to hang out in the Tops room. This was a play area where single subs like me could play with one of the registered tops that the club had vetted and approved. It was a great way to meet people, play with them and not have to worry about them doing anything inappropriate.” Valkyrie laughed, “I know, I use that word in the context of a BDSM club but stay with me.” She looked around and saw the team smiling, so continued, “I went to these evenings to impact play and nothing else, I didn’t want things going inside me unless I specifically asked and so the Tops Room was the safe option.”

“Impact play meaning spanking?” Cait asked.

“Yes, sort of.” Valkyrie nodded, “but not just a smack to the ass, as impact play can be flogging the back, caning the feet, anything that involves you being hit with something. If you haven’t tried a sensual flogging, when done properly, you are missing out.” She closed her eyes in remembrance. “Sorry,” Valkyrie then looked around at her team, “I had to keep sane somehow locked in that cell at Parsons,” she shrugged.

“Don’t keep apologising,” reassured Nate. “The fact that you are not a gibbering wreck after having been subjected to that kind of treatment is a miracle in itself.”

“Thanks,” Valkyrie smiled.

“So,” prompted Cait, obviously impatient for Valkyrie to continue the story.

“Oh yes, sorry,” Valkyrie said reactively, before looking up at Nate who raised his eyebrows at her.

“Great, first day with the new team and I’m already in trouble with the boss,” she laughed. “So, anyway, I head into the tops room and pick the St Andrews cross to be tied to. Sometimes, if you are feeling adventurous you can get tied to something and then wait until a top comes over to play with you, never knowing what they are going to do and not being able to see. It’s pretty exciting. So, there I am trussed up facing the cross, wearing nothing but a silk corset and thin bikini panties and I feel someone behind me, running their fingers softly over my ass. I then hear a gruff voice with a very recognisable southern drawl to it, ‘Let’s see if we can add to those two stripes you wear so beautifully on your arm.’ I was frozen in shock.” Valkyrie paused.

“Ha!” Cait clapped her hands, “It was your unit staff sergeant, Dean?”

Valkyrie scrunched her eyes closed at the thought, “The single most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me in my life,” she blew out a breath. “There was my unit sergeant running his fingers over my barely covered ass, whispering into my ear about giving me a spanking, as I hung helplessly to a piece of BDSM furniture.” The team laughed at Valkyrie’s obvious embarrassment, all of them enjoying her animated and entertaining story telling.

“And?” Cait exclaimed.

“Did he spank you?” Curie asked, wide eyed.

“Oh my god yes!” Valkyrie hummed in appreciation. “He tugged my panties up into a wedgie and striped my backside with a riding crop. I was a complete mess afterwards but totally in love,” Valkyrie smiled wistfully, “I miss him sometimes you know, even after all this time.”

“I know how you feel,” nodded Nate.

“But we have a riding crop,” Curie chimed in, smiling broadly.

Both Cait and Piper rolled their eyes, but Valkyrie laughed, “Thanks, Curie. That’s good to know”.

For the remainder of the evening the team expanded their story of how corporal punishment came to play a part in their team dynamic, with the girls answering many of Valkyrie’s questions with real passion and enthusiasm. Nate never stopped being amazed at how positive the girls were over their new arrangement and how keen they were to keep it. 

“So, now you have heard everything about us and how … “Piper paused, “…how we work, are you still interested in joining up?” She looked apprehensively at Valkyrie.

“You are the first person we have told outside of the team and…” Cait also took on a serious tone.

Valkyrie looked directly at Cait and then Piper. “You guys have nothing to worry about, that I can promise. You freed me from that place and so I owe you my life, literally.” She paused, “So at the very least I can promise you that whatever you tell me will remain our secret, but I can also tell you that I have absolutely no wish to head out there, to wander around this shit hole on my own. You guys seem awesome and to really care about each other. I think I would be properly insane if I turned down your amazing and very kind offer.”

“Insane, eh?” Nate chuckled, “I know somewhere we can put you in that case.”

“Hey Nate!” Piper threw a twig at him.

“Too soon.” Cait gave Nate an unimpressed look.

Valkyrie laughed, “It’s ok, I used to get myself into sooo much trouble with my smart mouth. I kinda like that type of humour.” She looked at Nate.

“But whilst we might get told off for it, Mr Bossy here gets away with murder when it comes to his mouth.” Cait harrumphed in a not very convincing manner.

“So, Nate doesn’t get spanked when he shoots off his smart mouth, then.” Valkyrie grinned at Nate.

 “No, he does not!” Spurted out Piper, sounding very aggrieved at that fact.

“Might have to change that then.” Valkyrie laughed.

“Uh-uh,” Nate smiled and wagged a finger at Valkyrie, “not you as well. I have a bad enough time trying to keep these three from obsessing over striping my backside. And just for the record, I have never spanked any of you for a smart mouth.” Nate paused, “but I can always start.”

“So, you are not a switch?” Valkyrie asked.

“A what?” Nate threw her a quizzical look.

“We are not here to put the poor girl off, Nate, leave her alone. No V, no one gets spanked for having a smart mouth.” Chuckled Piper, “Although Cait’s mouth got her into some trouble with a cane once, but that is another story.” She grinned at Cait who stuck her tongue out at the reporter.

“Well then, what’s not to like.” Valkyrie grinned as she looked at her teammates. “I won’t get spanked for having a smart mouth, you guys are funny and you seem to be able to look after yourselves. I think I am going to enjoy myself being in this team.” She then paused and looked at Nate, a serious tone in her voice. “Naked?” she asked.

Nate returned the serious look and nodded, “Every time.”

Valkyrie’s stomach did a flip.

Read on to Chapter 2

©Agoodhiding 2024

[jean-paul944]

🎶🎶

[jean-paul944]

Repression

I'm a big believer in the importance of kinky friends. If we can not manifest our sexuality physically, we must still be able to talk about it. It’s never wise to close a door on a fire and hope it dwindles.

Even if you don't have any kinky friends to talk to right now, there's nothing to stop you from acting like you were part of a huge ongoing international conversation. You can post your own thoughts, repost the thoughts of others, over time you can curate the best selection of what turns you on.

Posting in public, and being seen, proves to your own mind you're not alone. It increases your confidence, and that breeds courage. It increases the chances that one day you will be brave enough to reach out and make real life kinky friends.

You may resist doing this because you feel ashamed, or are afraid to be seen. But shame can only be overcome by confronting it, by letting that feeling of embarrassment wash over you, to experience its sting, and realise you were strong enough, and still standing.

What you absolutely should not do is repress your desires and interests, regarding them as some kind of inconvenience, which you hope will go away.

It costs energy to suppress emotions, and we only have the capacity to repress so much. The cost of suppressing all our fears, anxieties, regrets, shame comes from the same finite mental energy budget. When it's all used up, we feel exhausted and dismal, because out of the same energy budget is every positive emotion we feel: love, passion, enthusiasm, boldness.

So, speak up. Reclaim your voice. Start small, express your true thoughts and feelings in the safe spaces such as these. Before long, you'll realise just how psychologically vital it is to authentically express yourself.

Don't close the door on your inner fire, kindle it, stoke it higher and higher, then relish the heat from its brilliant glowing flames.

[jean-paul944]

[jean-paul944]

A story full of wonderful ideas!

Watching Your Spanking

An anonymous reader writes:

Sometimes I like to amuse myself by letting the random post selector choose what will arouse me next. Recently, it directed me to a post where you said the naughtiest thing you've ever done is to start your blog - encouraging tens of thousands of people to masturbate to your words. You added that if you had a governess you'd surely be given a well smacked bottom. That set my imagination alight, and sent my fingers down between my thighs.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I imagined you being spanked by your governess. In truth, I imagined a few different scenarios. They all made me very wet. And they made me come so hard, so many times. 

My favourite was when I imagined being in an assembly hall full of girls. We are all dressed smartly in our school uniforms, sitting on hard chairs, our hands folded demurely on our laps. We are facing the stage, the epitome of virtuous attentiveness, only the presence of our white panties around our ankles hints something might be happening beneath our skirts.

We pulled our panties down before we sat, so we could impale ourselves upon the monitoring dildos that pointed proudly from the centre of our seats. I was already disgracefully wet, so I sank down the rigid shaft so easily. The names of all in the audience are listed on the large screen at the side of the stage, the text turning from black to green as we’re filled. 

These clever protrusions monitor our arousal. As long as we’re good girls, and don’t get carried away, our names will stay green. But if we squirm - or heaven forbid - start to clench and ride, our names will change colour, first to a scolding amber, and then to the public disgrace of red. We know those who fail to heed this final warning earn a bare bottom appointment with Miss’s cane, and a collection of stripes we’ll be ruefully rubbing for days.

I was sitting on my own dildo as I imagined all this, trying hard to be a good girl, and doing my best not to squirm. But I couldn’t help but imagine you being led onto the stage by a stern lady just like the governess you described in your recent story. I could picture every detail of her full length black Edwardian dress, and her elegant figure-hugging bodice.

Our governess nods in satisfaction as she surveys the rows of impeccably motionless young ladies, before taking her own seat in the centre of the stage. You stand in front of her, smirking as you glance at the screen and see some names have already turned orange. Miss scolds your impertinence, saying you should be ashamed that your words have caused all of us here, and countless more abroad, to be so very naughty. She delivers her verdict, you deserve to receive the punishment for our filthy misbehaviour. 

Not that you look at all ashamed, if anything, you’re trying not to look too pleased with yourself. She harrumphs, infuriated by your lack of remorse. She unbuttons your trousers, and tugs them down to your ankles. You begin to protest as she pulls down your briefs, but she silences you with a frown and asserts that naughty boys always get smacked on their bare bottoms. Her eyes seem to shine brighter as she says this, and you can't deny that you have been a very naughty boy.

Imagining all this made me clench so hard around my dildo.

We all catch a glimpse of your erect cock before she grasps your wrist and tugs you over her lap, prompting several names on the screen to change colour, darkening to oranges and even reds. She gazes out at us and reminds us that any girl cumming in her seat will remain behind after your spanking. She doesn't need to spell out what will happen but the threat tips several more names into the red. 

We all gasp as she suddenly strikes your bottom with her open palm. The sound of the smack echoes through the hall, as a small splotch of pink appears on your pale skin. She scolds as she spanks you, pausing to call out our names from those assembled, prompting them to bashfully confess their sordid activities in front of everybody.

“I read his stories in bed as I stroked my pussy.”

“I came in punishment panties pulled so tight while reading his stories.” 

“I like to imagine being spanked over his lap while I grind into my pillow.”

“I imagine him bending me over and spanking me hard before fucking my sore bottom.”

Then it's my turn, I utter my admission aloud in my bedroom.

“I read his stories on the train and came in my seat, right in front of everyone.” 

Because that’s exactly what I did.

Each confession prompts our governess to deliver a new flurry of smacks that make you buck and squirm. Each time she scolds you for having such a dirty mind, and for inspiring so much debauched behaviour. You respond by indignantly pointing out that you didn't make any of us do anything, and that we masturbated to your stories because we're naughty little girls with filthy minds. She doesn't seem to think this is much of an excuse, silencing each protestation by spreading your cheeks apart, and landing another flurry of hard rapid smacks. You are starting to squirm over her lap and your bum is glowing pink all over.

My pussy is dripping, I can feel my vagina clench as I stare in fascination at you getting spanked just like a naughty boy. As she moves down to smack your thighs you kick your legs and soon your trousers and pants are pooled around your feet. She tells you what a silly little boy you are, to be kicking and squirming like this, then asks you if you're sorry for writing such disgraceful smut.

We all hold our breath. No Miss, you reply, politely and slightly breathlessly but still quite defiantly. She tuts but doesn't seem too annoyed, in fact she seems to be quite cheerful as she continues spanking your glowing red buttocks and thighs, smiling as you wriggle. 

The squirming in the audience is almost as vigorous as yours. Half of us are wishing we were in your place, and the other half is delighted to be watching you take the kind of spanking you describe to us every night in our beds. We are revelling in the schadenfreude of you being punished because we couldn't stop ourselves from sliding our fingers down between our thighs, and masturbating to your filthy words.

I notice your squirming has a rhythm now, how with every smack you thrust forward a little. I realise that you're grinding against your governess's thigh, and my pussy throbs as I hear your gasps. My name goes deep red but it isn't the only one. All around me girls are rocking slightly on the monitoring dildos, eyes fixed on your firm bottom, and that region between your thighs, hoping for another fleeting glimpse of what dangles there. 

Our governess begins to tease you, asking you if you want to come in front of us all. She asks if knowing we're all watching you being spanked like a little boy is exciting you - and do you think naughty boys deserve to come like this? It seems words have deserted you for once. Finally, she directs you to rise from her lap at last. Now we all see your cock fully revealed, thick and hard and glistening, jutting forward defiantly. We see everything, and more names go red.

Miss orders you to bend over and touch your toes, whilst she collects a cane from behind her chair. The first stroke cracking against your flesh makes you jerk and grunt, sending me into a convulsing orgasm.

When I recover my senses I look up to the screen, and see my name now has a little cane symbol beside it, and I’m not alone. Miss continues whacking you, and I continue to ride wantonly with every stroke. Another little cane appears beside my name: I’m going to get such a sore bum thanks to you, but I’ve passed the point where I can control myself.

By the time your whacking ends, several names have little collections of canes beside them. She orders you to stand again, and you grin as you see the trouble you’ve got us in, before hastily modifying your expression to something more contrite. I doubt she buys it, but lets your act pass without comment. She wraps her hand around your stiff cock, leading you by it to the back of the stage, where you stand with your arms folded behind your back, with your new pink stripes on display.

Then, one by one, those of us who came in our seats are called forward. We waddle up the steps to the stage, with our panties still around our ankles like we’re convicts in leg irons. We take our turn bending over and feel our skirts being lifted.

As we’re caned we steal glances across at you, now standing casually, hands clasped above your firm bare cheeks, as if you’d been strolling through an art gallery, and had stopped to admire a masterpiece. In this case, as you peer over your shoulder with a smile, you’re clearly appreciating our cute bare bottoms, the excellence of our governess’s disciplinary technique, and the intensity of our whackings.

Watching you get spanked made us all so wet, and we all will get such sore bottoms for it. It seems only fitting you get to watch us all getting caned, and that will keep you so hard.

I want you to know Sir, I came so hard picturing all this. First when I imagined you over our governess's knee. I came in waves, my whole body rigid as I convulsed on my seat. When I moved to my bed, I played on my front, almost yelling into my pillows. My head pulsed for minutes afterwards. And then I did it all again, imagining your caning, and how hard it made you. Then I imagined my own caning from Miss, how sore it would be, but also how it made me drip, until I came clenching so hard it made me ache.

I want you to know Sir, I’ve written all this without wearing any panties. It’s been so hard to keep my fingers on the keyboard, and not plunge them deep into my needy wet slit. 

I hope your other readers will think of more ways to spank you in their own minds. I hope they’ll take what I’ve written and rub as they imagine you being spanked, until it’s added to their library of favourite fantasies. And I hope you'll continue to be a naughty boy, telling us filthy stories that get us into trouble, so we all deserve well-smacked bottoms too.

.

.

.

Wow, thank you so much for this wonderful treat!

I can't deny that it does arouse me greatly to think of the thousands who play with themselves whilst reading my words. And now perhaps they'll play whilst imagining your filthy words too, sitting on a dildo as they imagine me getting a thoroughly smacked bottom.

What you've written is also thought-provoking, it raises intriguing points about what we find arousing. Perhaps watching the tables being turned, and strict spankers getting spanked is a more popular fantasy than I thought. It's certainly an under-explored theme in spanking fiction, but the more I think about it, the more I see its marvellous erotic possibilities.

I suspect everyone noticed long ago that most spanking fiction, whether written or visual, tends to involve spankees who "appear" submissive. Younger, meeker, more compliant, you know the trope. But there's no reason why the recipient couldn't be a strict or seemingly dominant individual instead. I think what you've written demonstrates that watching a strict fantasy figure getting spanked can be extremely arousing indeed.

So rest assured, I intend to continue getting you all into trouble, and being an incredibly naughty boy. And maybe the next time you slip your fingers between your legs, you'll imagine me getting just what I deserve.

[jean-paul944]

I'm only interested in your humidity

solo me interesa tu humedad

[jean-paul944]

[jean-paul944]

I finally received my first proper spanking earlier this week. And then it happened again, and again, and again. My partner and I both discovered that we enjoy this dynamic (maybe a little too much, but who's complaining?). I wanted to share this landmark occasion with you, and take a moment to celebrate! Thank you for helping me build up the courage to ask my partner to try it out.

We're still figuring out why it goes from pain to pleasure, from yelps and kicking to moans and pleas, from a racing mind to a calm, still and submissive state of mind. We're still trying to figure out what it is about spanking that gives me a feeling of deep bliss and contentment, and my partner a sense of protectiveness and possessiveness in a nurturing way. Could you possibly shed some light on the subject please?

I'm delighted to hear you both enjoyed a very kinky Christmas!

As for the feelings of bliss, safety, and tranquillity you're experiencing, I've written about that before, it's what I call the Contract of Calmness. Where the top takes responsibility for their partner’s worries, liberating them from worries and creating an erotic bubble of serenity.

One of the well-known attractions of spanking is its ability to quieten the recipient's busy mind. We tend to talk less about the emotional impact on givers. It can be surprising for those spanking for the first time to feel a strong nurturing impulse towards the one they're physically (albeit playfully) hurting.

Kink is about playing sexually with emotions, and possession is central to kink. That's why the terms "own" and "surrender" feature so prominently in kinky scenes. By submitting, you're amplifying how possessive your partner feels about you. No wonder it feels so good.

Wishing you a new year of deeper bonding and erotic discoveries!

[jean-paul944]

[jean-paul944]

Well so much for them staying up. But it was nice when he gave her that little pat. Maybe he likes what he sees.

[jean-paul944]

[jean-paul944]

[jean-paul944]

I could never find any erotic stories that blended late capitalist economics, performance art, and spanking machines - so I wrote one. We should always create what we want to see in the world.