Harsh

Sometimes a slavegirl misbehaves. She was having trouble getting essays in on time. I’d worked round the clock that night, writing the appendices for her for a major project, that had to be handed in in the morning or it wouldn’t be accepted. She wrote the main section. 

So in the morning, when the completed project was emailed off, a minute before deadline,  I was not pleased. There was a discussion to be had, on why this had happened and how to stop it happening again. 

But first there was punishment. This photo is from about two-thirds of the way through. Later she needed to cry in my arms and be comforted, but first she needed the harshness.  

Tenderness and the harshness, and her need for both, are all expressions of love.

 

 

Sinful Sunday: A terrifying transmogrification

 

 

One of the most dangerous things about being a European, particularly in the Celtic or Graeco-Roman traditions, is that one day you’ll be going about your business and then – wham! – you find yourself turning into a swan! 

We don’t hold with that nonsense in the Mountains. However, every so often swans transform into beautiful naked women. That seems like a better deal, to me. 

I managed to get a picture this swan right in the middle of its transmogrification. 

Sinful Sunday: Self-awareness, and the colour of beauty

The object our girl is bent over is called a prie-dieu. It’s designed to encourage submission to the Christian god. When I saw this one on sale in a junk shop in the great Australian outback, I had to have it, as a pervertible.

Religious and sexual submission have always been very closely related. The form of the prie-dieu, which can be used for both kneeling and bending, is very encouraging and conducive to that oceanic, submissive feeling. It helps a submissive to feel self-awareness: I am submissive; I am submitting…

But that’s not what I came here to talk about. What I see first, and last, is the blush on my girl’s lovely bottom after a light tawsing. It really is the colour of beauty.

 

Sinful Sunday: Healing bruises

When your master has released your cuffs from the bedposts, but left them on you. When you sleep, feeling the bruising on your arse is healing, but still feeling the warmth and the comfort of that deep, warm ache. When getting those bruises felt healing, too. 

Those are good sleeping conditions. Everything is perfect.

 

Sinful Sunday: Tip toes

There are lots of things a submissive woman can do, when her Sir is in that most imperious, imperative mood. 

Obviously, doing as she’s told is paramount. But, as is so often the case in interaction between Sir and girl, it’s the details that carry so much erotic heft. 

He watches his girl. But though he loves her, and her body, and her desire to obey and please him, it’s the details he’s learned to notice. She holds herself on tip-toes. 

He wonders why that detail is so significant. It’s partly that she wants to place her body to advantage visually, since she knows he will be watching her closely while he punishes her.

She gives up control once she’s on tip toes for him. She doesn’t have her feet on the ground. And so she’s on his ground.

Sinful Sunday: Soulful stripes

There comes a time when punishment is over. Time moves fast during a caning, and then, when the last stroke is delivered, it slows down. Nearly to a stop. There is pain, and there is peace.

She’d been warned about consequences of not doing university work before, and she knows that the punishment was an act of love, and she deserved it. No matter how much it hurt. 

But she knows, too, that he still has the cane in his hand, as a badge of office, almost. Justice is one of the strongest ties between master and willing slave. And, justice or not, she knows he’s hard for her. 

In a moment he’s going to hold her. And kiss her, and tell her she’s good, and he’ll help her get the overdue assignment finished. But for now, the assignment isn’t what matters. His need for her, and hers for him; that matters. In a few seconds, no more, they’ll be fucking.