Wicked Wednesday: Jennifer’s pleats and pleas 9: Maddie interlude

When I opened the door Maddie was feeding another ream of paper into the photocopier. I knew the paper drawer had been full to maximum before Jennifer walked into my office, and there was no chance it could have run out. She’d stopped the copier to listen to Jennifer and me.

photocopier-2But she bent steeply at the waist while she lowered the paper into place. She knew the effect that was likely to have on me, and hoped it’d distract me. 

“Well, Maddie. Did you hear everything you wanted. We weren’t talking too quietly for you?”

Maddie didn’t blush. And she looked me in the eyes with the utmost sincerity. “Uh, you were talking? I wasn’t …”

She indicated the photocopier. “I was fixing this…” Then she lost her mock-innocent look and laughed. “Oh, my god, she really got to you, didn’t she?”

I didn’t look down. I knew my erection had to be obvious even through a suit. Once Jennifer had left I’d stopped trying to will it down. Instead I said, “A student being punished is entitled to some privacy. Maddie, did I tell you told to listen in, while a student is being disciplined? Or were you told to keep the photocopier going?”

Maddie stepped closer. I did what I needed to do, and put my hands on her ass and squeezed. A woman, not a girl. Firm in my hands. I spread my fingers on voluptuous rounded womanhood, and said, “Oh girl.”

I meant Maddie, but I don’t think she thought I meant her.

But she only paused for a second before she rubbed her lower belly against my cock. “I don’t think you need to punish another girl. Well, not first. Not just now. And we should talk. But not just now.” She reached between us and took my hard cock in her palm, thumb and forefinger pressing along its length.

“Uh. Ahhh. Haaaaaa.”

photocopy-1Maddie smiled, too smugly. So I held her right shoulder and smacked her with my left, spinning her till she faced the photocopier again. I pushed her down, and pulled up her tight little skirt, easing it up over her ass. Maddie said, “Should we -?”

But I smacked her ass, hard, to stop her talking. I unzipped and freed my erection.

Maddie flattened over the top of the copier while I pulled the gusset of her knickers to the side and pushed my cock between her plump lips, all the way into her.

Whatever she’d heard, when she listened to Jennifer and me, had aroused her too. She was slick and wet, and she sighed with satisfaction when I filled her. She straightened her spread legs and arched her ass up. I couldn’t be slow or careful. I held her down hard with my hand on her shoulder and bucked into her, grunting. As deep and fast as we could.

Maddie reached back and turned the photocopier back on.


Sinful Sunday: Nothing natural?


I don’t know. I’ve got friends who hated it and said it hurt like hell. I’ve got friends who love it. 

I do know. You’re mine. Not “mine except for your ass”. Yes?

I know, Master. And I want to. To please you, and … well, I think it sounds hot. Like surrendering. Like giving you everything. 

Well, your ass is everything. That is just a fact.

Arse the size of the universe, is that what you’re – Ow! Yi! Sorry, Master!

Finest ass in the known universe. Ask that DeGrasse Tyson guy. Anyway, we’ll go at your pace. If you want me stop, or go slow, just let me know. If it’s too much, I’ll withdraw. Fucking reluctantly, I imagine. But I will back out.  

Hah! Back out! 

Okay. Get your ass up. That’s lovely. And try to … stay relaxed. 

Ok, I’m … Uh!  Ahhh…



The light source was a bedside lamp. And the camera flash. Though that was somehow underpowered, giving this slightly ghostly image instead of documentary clarity. I like the result.

The Anal Sex: Deprivation of Virginity Project went incredibly well, too. But maybe that’s a different post. And of course anal sex is natural. It’s just that the laws of many countries still say otherwise. But if it’s not natural, it must be artificial. Like the light.

Touch these lips for more Sinful Sunday submissions.

Touch these lips for more yummy Sinful Sunday goodness



“I put my pork sword in her love tunnel”: a thought on cunt and diction

A friend of mine used to draw cartoons for Penthouse. One of the highlights of the day was in the morning, when the latest readers’ confessions arrived, for putting in the “Penthouse Forum” section.

pork-swordDespite rumours to the contrary, the Penthouse staff never made these letters up. There was no shortage of actual readers’ contributions.

They did tend to look as if the same person had written many of them, but that was because the letter writers used to copy each other. Key phrases would recur, like “Not to be outdone, I…“, “‘Let me take care of that for you,’ she said” and “One thing soon led to another, and …” as if they were the official house style. 

Anyway, the morning would start with the editor standing up and bellowing the latest letters aloud, with occasional editorial comments, and heckling from the floor.

The letters were in four main categories:

  • fantasies written by virgins
  • fantasies written by people who weren’t quite virgins but had had their eyes tightly closed during any sexual contact they’d ever had
  • fantasies or possible actual experiences written by people who had probably had sex and knew what genitals looked and felt like, but were the worst writers on earth 
  • actual, credible, genuinely hot letters

tunnel_of_loveMy friend told me some of the best phrases from the winning entries, but I’ve forgotten most of them. However,  the unchallenged winner in the third category was the guy who wrote “She gasped with joy when I put my pork sword in her love tunnel.” 


When I write in my own persona, I use only the words “cock” and “cunt”.

cockI like the word “cock” because (just a country boy, me) it’s based on the genuine resemblance between the bobbing of an erection and the strutting walk of a farmyard cock.

Might be worth taking a pause at this point, to listen to Howling Wolf’s version of “Little Red Rooster”. (It used to annoy him that the Stones got the key changes wrong in their version. Taught Keith Richards how to play it properly when he was in London in 1971, if you’ll excuse some Howling Wolf nerdery.)  

Also, cock is a thicker word than its main rival, “dick”.  

Cunt, with impressive inter-gracile, sub-pudendal fossa.

Cunt, with impressive inter-gracile, sub-pudendal fossa

And “cunt” is simply the only word I know for “cunt”. It’s the correct English word, older than the language, even. It has no derogatory connotations, and it’s not a euphemism, as though cunt were a bad thing, that needed to be referred to in Latin or with a cutesy word like “pussy”.

The misogynist habit using using the word to mean “a bad, despicable person” is actually relatively recent, and I’m holding out hope that it will eventually go away, leaving “cunt” to its original meaning.  


That’s why the headmaster in the “Jennifer’s pleats and pleas” story, who would be a bad, despicable person if he were real and operating in a world with any resemblance to reality, is a man who says “pussy”. Somehow, the idea that a cunt needs to be made “pretty” by giving it a name like “pussy” seems disrespectful. 

It’s why I’m not surprised that when he was boasting about sexual assault, the guy who lost the popular vote in the recent US election used the word “pussy”. There’s something belittling about the word, something that tries to divest the cunt of its power. That power frightens some men. As demonstrated by the history of religion, among other things.

Any thoughts on cunt vs pussy?

Wicked Wednesday: Jennifer’s pleats and pleas 8

I’d suggested to Jennifer that she might want to do a little more, to prove not just to me but to herself that she really was a good girl.

She seemed to accept the principle. But I expected some dramatic and florid ideas were passing through her head, while she tried to stare out my carpet.

“Well, I know a way, Jennifer. You fully earned that spanking you just got.”

I paused and gazed at her, so that she knew something was expected. After the briefest of pauses she nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Correct. But you can gain some real credit with me, if you show you’re ready to learn discipline properly. I think you have some things to own up to, don’t you?”

Jennifer looked beseeching. She wanted to deny it, but I’d already shown too many signs of omniscience. She looked from side to side, then said, in the quietest voice imaginable, “Yes. Sir.”

hand-skirt2“And, you know, you can take punishments that you haven’t earned yet. So that things can be a little easier for you when the time comes?”

She frowned, considering that. It seemed to make sense to her, which, frankly, it didn’t to me. Her thinking was being influenced, as it should, by what her pussy wanted. I said, still very seriously, “That could mean additional spankings, or maybe the strap.”

She looked at me, her face back to its natural color. Something in her had relaxed. I said, “Do you know what a tawse is?” She looked blank. “No, you wouldn’t, I suppose. Anyway, those are options. Think on it.”

The bell rang.

“Ah, end of the first period. You’re done now. You’d better get going — I know you won’t want to be late for another class.” I let the smile get through, this time. I mouthed, silently, the word, “Or.”

She smiled back at me. The ideas implied by that “or” had pleased her. She stood up then, and I walked her to the door, as if she were a parent. But just before I opened the door that led from Maddie’s office to the corridor, and freedom for Jennifer, I touched her back lightly.

hand-skirt1She stopped, perhaps wondering if I would drop my hand to comfort her hurt. Instead I whispered into her ear. “Do think about earning that extra credit, Jennifer. It will be good for you.”

She flushed again. “Yes, sir.” And so I lowered my hand and cupped her left buttock. It was a caress, and she leaned into my hand, liking the contact while not wanting to admit it was happening.I let my hand drift over to hold her right buttock. She was perfectly still, not even breathing. 

After a few soft, sweet seconds I made it a smack. Affectionate, but more like a headmaster’s punishing hand. I smiled at her, and she tilted her head up at me. The idea that we should kiss hung in the air.

Then I opened the door, and patted her bottom one last time. “Hurry to class, now, girl.”

She walked out into the corridor, not looking back.

The photo-copier started again. Maddie had been listening. I frowned. She and I would have words about that. I shut her office door and, after a second’s consideration, locked it. Then I walked over to the photocopy room.


Some bdsm-related reasons why hitting children is a bad idea 13: Summing up and concluding

So 1 in 20 teachers and children are likely to respond sexually to child-beating in schools: what’s wrong with that?

We managed to get rid of this shit...

We managed to get rid of this shit…

That may seem an obvious question, but it’s worth taking it seriously. 

As we know from the Irish and Australian Commissions of Inquiry into child abuse in schools and other institutions, in very authoritarian schools the child-beating scenario too often leads to child rape. 

Why would a ritual which includes removing some of the child’s clothing and always involves forcing the child to present his or her buttocks submissively lead to rape?

It’s because those teachers and other officials experienced it as sexual: beating the child turned them on, and the “corporal punishment” rules put them in a position of enormous power over the child.

One in 20 teachers, assuming that teachers are the same as the rest of us, is sexually attracted to bdsm, and turned on by bdsm situations. This is true whether or not the teacher is aware of their sexual response, and is doing his or her best to suppress it.

Mostly, the one in 20 teachers who interpret and respond to school “spankings” sexually don’t actually rape the child.

Well, it’s always a compulsory sexual act forced on a child by an adult who is likely to find the scenario arousing, even if they try not to. It’s just not rape if you define rape as involving penetration.

It’s still … extremely undesirable.

It’s odd that many parents who would be fearful and irate if a gay sports teacher gave their son a back massage seem to take genuine mistreatment of their children with complete calm.


When Charles Moser studied a California-based bdsm community he found that about 5% of people currently engaged in the bdsm community had had their interest in bdsm awakened by a physical punishment received in childhood.

That may lead some people to conclude that child-beating is not okay because it increases the number of “perverts” undermining society and having weird street parties. But that’s not my point at all. First, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being into bdsm. Second, those children will, if they’re not beaten in schools or at home, almost certainly become aware of their sexual interest in some other way.

The real problem is that it’s psychologically harmful for children to be forced to discover an important part of their sexuality, when they’re too young to assimilate it, in a non-consensual setting of guilt, pain and fear.

happyWe all believe that children should not have sexual experiences forced on them by an adult. Sex is something they should discover for themselves, in their own time, as they become able to handle it. It’s time to put that belief into practice, and put an end to child-beating.

In the meantime, in the immortal words of Roger Waters, “Hey! Teacher! Leave those kids alone!”



This is the end of a series. The earlier posts, including the statistics behind the conclusion that about 1 in 20 people respond to bids-settings, can be found here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12



Some bdsm-related reasons why hitting children is a bad idea 12: Summing up 1

The general case against beating children

There are good non-bdsm reasons for not hitting children. We know that it doesn’t work, that it makes kids more violent, and that there that there are other, more effective ways of disciplining children. That should be enough to end the practice, right there.

But we also know that it operates in a racist way: that children from ethnic minorities are the most likely to be beaten in schools. We also know something that may be marginally more horrific, which is that children with a disability are the most likely to be beaten.

In short, it’s cruel, it’s deliberately degrading, it doesn’t work, and (despite my respect for the teaching profession as a whole) the schools that allow “corporal punishment” have amply demonstrated that they are incapable in implementing it “fairly”, that is, without racism or bias against people with a disability.

It needs to be outlawed. Now.

The bdsm-related case against beating children

The bdsm case against child beating is that ritualised beating, especially on the buttocks, is sexual. Forcing sex acts on a child is sexual abuse. “Corporal punishment” is child-molesting.

Vile book by vile people is all about the child-beating (also punishment starvings). It is implicated in the deaths of three children.

Vile book, by vile people, advocates child-beating (also punishment starvings). It is implicated in the deaths of three children.

People who argue against this usually make two claims. The first claim is that school and parental beatings are different from sexual beatings. Because they hurt too much to be sexual.

All they’re saying is that they don’t know anything at all about sexual spankings. Sexual spankings can be delivered using a paddle or cane, and be far harder than anything that could legally be inflicted in a school.

Doms soon learn that some submissives can have an amazing ability to take and eroticise pain. In my own experience as a dom, the upper limit can be my own squeamishness, and not the submissive’s desires and response. There is no identifiable point at which a spanking is “too hard to be sexual”.

People who say, “Beat children hard and then they won’t be turned on,” are revealing some ugly things about themselves. One of those things is that they don’t have a clue what they’re talking about.  

The other claim is that beating is only sexual for a tiny minority of the population, as if it’s okay if it’s a sexual act in a few cases, because it’s worth it for all the yummy pain, fear and humiliation it inflicts on children.

But their belief, or at least claim, that only a tiny minority of the population is likely to interpret a beating sexually is wrong. That’s a matter of established fact.

About 10% of child-beatings at school are likely to be sexually charged for at least one of the participants, the punisher or the beaten child. So, of the approximate 326,400 child-beatings in US schools, each year, about 32,600 involve an adult or a child who is directly aware, from their own reaction, that this is a sexually charged act.

Tomorrow we’re going to explore a question whose answer seems comically obvious. But it is worth thinking about it: So a significant proportion of both teachers and children are responding sexually to child-beatings in schools: what’s wrong with that?


e[lust] 88: the catastrophe of the nature

Elust 88

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Writing Sex Scenes With Less Cissexism, Pt 1


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The Haunting of Iris Day
MERMAID??? Wicked Wednesday #229
Fear, Scents and Sounds
Lady Amore
love is love
Her Struggle
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Trust in Me
15 BEST Things About Giving Blowjobs!
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What lie do you need to hear so we can Fuck?

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The Brush
Tasked with asking for what I need
How Old Is Too Old For Wild Lovemaking?
Brass In Pocket
An Unstated Predicament
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Creature of the night
MISTRESS IN A DRESS – or out of it
Come Here. I want to Taste You
Terror of the cane! How to make caning sexy

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Wicked Wednesday: Jennifer’s pleats and pleas 7

Jennifer couldn’t believe that she’d thanked me for spanking her, but her words still hung in the air. Her face blushed as furiously as her bottom. She squirmed, and her little skirt rode up to the tops of her thighs, exposing that white-cotton gusset between.

The squirming was ... hypnotic

Jennifer’s squirming was … hypnotic

She’d have to stand up to pull the skirt down, and she knew she didn’t have permission. She couldn’t imagine asking for permission. So she could only blush, sometimes looking down and sometimes staring, uncertainly, into my eyes.

I smiled at her. “That’s better. The thing is, Jennifer, you’re a good girl. Really.”

I looked at her. Jennifer was still blushing furiously and trying hard to keep still. But she nodded. She was a good girl.

“Now, you get very good marks, Jennifer.” She squirmed again, her little pussy again flashing whitely between plump thighs. It was the word “marks” that had set her off. I said, “You have a very good record. Your marks, yes, your marks, are very good. You’ve won awards, and you take part in extra-curricular activities. It’s quite clear that achievement is important to you. Isn’t it?”

Jennifer closed her knees tightly. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good. Now, you’ve got a clean slate as far as I’m concerned. You did wrong, you took your punishment bravely. And now there’s nothing on your record. What do you say?”

“Ummm… Thank you, sir.” 

Mr fucking Scary, that's who

Mr fucking Scary, that’s who

“Good girl. Though if you’re late again, I’ll cane you. That’s fair warning. But you, Jennifer, you may be thinking that one spanking isn’t enough to make things right. Not in your own mind.”

I looked at her. Her hands were white. Her thighs trembled, knees slightly apart. It was as though I was looking at her half-naked again. I laid down a card. “In fact, you might prefer to go above and beyond to impress me that you really are well behaved. Wouldn’t you?”

She frowned. I was right, but she hadn’t expected this. “Yes, uh, yes, sir.”

“But you might be at a loss as to how to do so.”

Jennifer watched me, fascinated. Then she nodded, and looked at my carpet again. She’d seen a lot of it, in the last half-hour.



Sinful Sunday: Possession


When she said she was mine: property. Possession.  When we could feel it, when we took the time to focus on her new status, and mine. When we knew it in our hearts, minds, genitals, and our skin.

When life gives you something wonderful it can take time to know it. And only touch, soft and then hard, can really tell you.

Touch these lips for more Sinful Sunday submissions.

Touch these lips for more Sinful Sunday submissions.