The Poor Girl’s Opera (contains father issues)

Did you know there’s a whipping scene in Wagner’s Das Rheingold

It’s very loud in the Georg Solti recording, where the recording supervisor, John Culshaw, commented that the whip they used to make the cracking sounds was “absolutely terrifying”. And he’d been to a British public school in the 1940s, so he can’t have been easily scared. 

Anyway, I should say that the whipping scene in “Das Rheingold” is interestingly grotesque, but completely and utterly not sexy. It’s between two dwarfs, and they’re brothers. 

Nice hat. Astrid Varnay as Brünnhilde.

But if you were looking for a bdsm scene in a Wagner opera, I’d recommend the Daddy-daughter confrontation between Wotan and Brünnhilde at the end of Die Walküre. It begins with Wotan furious because his daughter disobeyed him, and determined to punish her.

She begs, reminding her father why she did what she did, and inadvertently reminding him of why he loves her: she’s the best of him. So he still punishes her, but he changes it to make it something positive, intended to benefit her. And they reconcile with one of the hugest and most overwhelming orgasms in all music.

If you were a Dom on the prowl (rrrowl!), you could do worse than hang about in the lobby after a performance of Die Walküre, There’ll be some very good looking women there, as well as the ones who look like James Thurber drawings. Find a woman you fancy who’s been weeping red-eyed buckets, buy her a drink and give her a handkerchief. So far you’re being a gentleman, but tell her to clean herself up in a very slightly command voice, and there’s a 50/50 chance that you’ll take her home.

By three in the morning you should be smacking her ass and telling her she’s a good girl really. And she should be hitting the A above the treble stave.   


Sinful Sunday: Cuffs keep you warm


When a girl isn’t going anywhere, for a while, she needs cuffs to keep her warm. 

These are official police cuffs, that a Domme from an Aussie cop. She later gave them to me, which was a nice present.  

They are cold and utterly inflexible, in feel. They say, “you are held”, in the plainest language possible. The warmth is in the our hearts, and in my hands. 


Wicked Wednesday: In the Realm of the Sensei 21

Seamus assumed, then, that while he was caning Yua, none of his class had studied their page as he’d instructed. The book was HG Wells’s The War of the Worlds.

So he set them an essay on the Momotarõ myth, in which Momotarõ was sometimes born to rule over lesser people and sometimes an evil invader who slaughtered peaceful natives. The essay had to compare the Momotarõ stories to the The War of the World‘s treatment of imperialism.

“You can write it in Japanese if that’s easier. But if you try to write it in English you automatically get an extra grade. Yua!”

“Sensei?” She turned her face from the wall to face him, while keeping her body more or less in place. The welts on the sides of her buttocks, where the panties did not cover her, were bright and somewhat raised.Her thighs were slim, but soft. He could not help but think of how they would feel, wrapped around his upper thighs, or raised to hold his waist. 

He suppressed that thought and said, “Yua, you start a grade down from everyone else. But if you get anything less that a B+, I’ll cane you every day for a week. Understood?” 

Her eyes widened. That meant she would have to work hard. She said, “Hai, Sensei.”

He turned back to the class. He knew from their occasional inattention that Yua, behind him, was wriggling, but he ignored that. Finally the bell rang and the class filed out. Except Yua. She knew they still had business, she and him.

At last they were alone together. Yua stood silent and stil, with her hands on her head, expectant. “Come here, Yua.”


When she reached his desk, smiling, sure of her power and victory, he made her turn around. He tugged her panties down, to inspect the damage. She had been well and prettily striped. He took the cane and put it between her upper thighs, close to her cunt.

“Don’t touch this with your hands, and don’t let it fall. Carry it for me while you go into the storeroom. And wait for me. Go!”

The cane between her thighs waggling as she walked, Yua went. She left the door open.

Wicked Wednesday: In the Realm of the Sensei 20

Seamus had told Yua to get up, now her caning was done. Yua stayed bent over the chair, staring up at him. He walked back to her, cane still in his hand, and smacked her bottom again. “Up, girl.”

She did not get up. She moved, slowly, voluptuously, from side to side after he’d smacked her striped bottom.

He wasn’t immune to her display, though he knew he wasn’t the only audience she was playing for.

He’d told the class to keep their eyes on their books, but he doubted if there were not a boy, or girl, in the classroom who wasn’t watching, though their heads were bent studiously down. Yua said, “I can’t get up, Sensei. I hurt too much. Could you help me?”

He said, in warning, “Yua.” But he reached down to take her by the shoulder. She grabbed his hand in both of hers, and pulled it to her face. Her mouth opened and she took his thumb, sucking, then running her tongue slowly from the tip to the flesh of his hand. He smiled, realising he had been trapped.

That action, with her mouth on his thumb, had made him a promise. A promise of great promise. There was no doubt that she would suck his cock with great enthusiasm and skill. Of course he wanted that, and at the same time he wanted her not to have whatever she wanted. Including him.

He withdrew his thumb, now wet, and pulled her up, stopping her from pressing her body against his once she was upright. 

“Stand in the corner, Yua. Hands on head, until this class is over. It seems you need another lesson.”

“Hai, sensei.” Another lesson was fine with her. She walked, skirt swishing, to the corner, and took up her position, nose in the corner. 

He hadn’t asked her to, but she lifted her skirt, to display her pantied bottom, stripes emerging from both sides of her panties. She was enacting The Schoolgirl in Disgrace.

 She was a poor English student, but she could supplement her inadequacy at that language with other kinds of communication. Snd, he knew, she usually got what she wanted.

Still, Seamus switched his attention away from her and her challenges with something like relief. He called on one of the brighter boys to explain the passage he’d just read.The boy said, “Hai, sensei. The passage I read … It was on page 148… Ah,” Seamus realised the boy hadn’t read it, and that he was embarrassed by his own reaction to Yua’s display.

Seamus stared at him, giving him long enough to wonder if he was next to go over that chair. At last he said, “Pay attention, from now on. That was a warning.” The boy swallowed, and nodded.

He heard an amused sound from Yua, behind him. He ignored it.

Sinful Sunday: Glee

Bedtime is not always time for sleep. Or even relaxation. 

Arethusa would watch me while I caned her, unless I’d told her she wasn’t allowed. When I was naked, she liked the way my cock would get a little harder and sort of bounce with every stroke. “It’s glee,” she said. “You think you’re being so wicked, and you love that!” 

Arethusa was often “naughty”, but she was very seldom wrong.



Wicked Wednesday: In the Realm of the Sensei 19

The rest of that day’s class was uneventful. Yua sometimes opened her legs to flash her panties and inner thighs at him, but he ignored that. If it got worse he’d deal with it.

School life travelled smoothly for a while. In the next couple of weeks he found sometimes had to repeat the lesson, with some of the rowdier boys. At least they presented him with no temptations when they presented their backsides for the cane.

But a few weeks after the first time he’d caned her, Yua brought no homework and squirmed voluptuously, standing beside his desk. Seamus said, “Well? Homework?”

“I’m sorry, sensei. I did it, so well. But on my way to school today there was a dog. It chased me and I dropped my homework. I went back later, but …”

Seamus looked up at her, in disbelief. “The dog ate your homework?”

“Hai, sensei.”

In a way he was impressed. It was a traditional Western excuse, but not a Japanese one. She must have done at least some reading in English. But he said, “A dog did not eat your homework, Yua. I warned you about stupid excuses. Fetch a chair, and bend over it. Bottom facing the class, so they can see you being punished.”

So Yua walked to her desk, still squirming with every step, knowing he couldn’t help but watch her, picked up the chair and returned. She bent tightly over the chair. As an afterthought, she lifted her skirt above her waist, so the cane would impact across neat, modest white panties. 

Seamus gave her one hard smack across that poised target with his hand. She wiggled, knowing she was a temptation. Then he walked to the hook on the wall from which the cane hung, in warning to all his students. He lifted it, walked back and stood a little to her side. He lined the cane across Yua’s bottom, then lifted it. He turned to face the class.

They gazed, unblinking, the girls mostly at him and the boys mostly at Yua’s plumply perfect bottom. He said, “Take out your book and turn to page 148. If I see anyone watching, they’ll come up and get the same.”

There was a sudden flurry, books being removed from satchels and placed open on the desk. All eyes were on page 148.

He said, “If you disrupt lessons, if you don’t do your work, if you are insolent like this silly girl, this is what you get.” And then he swung the cane down, hard across tight panties.The sound was loud enough to make several of them wince, and even Yua gave a little grunt.

She was no longer making a performance of being caned. She knew that he knew she’d been acting. Still, she squealed when she received the fourth and sixth strokes, so he knew he was reaching her.

She’d expected to take just six strokes in front of the other students, before he gave her more in the storeroom after class.

She made a sound of genuine grief when he gave her the seventh stroke and she realised he wasn’t stopping at six. After she’d taken ten strokes, with bright red cane-lines showing at the edge of the panties, he said, “That’ll do, Yua. For now. Get up.”

Yua looked at him, still bent over. Imploring. She put her skirt back into place, disappointing some of the boys and, Seamus had to admit, him too. But she did not move.


Swimming Pool, un film par François Ozon

Swimming Pool is is partly a psychological thriller, and partly a meditation on the process of artistic creation. Like all good French films, it spends a lot of its run time with the camera staring at the naked body of an incredibly beautiful woman, in this case Ludivine Sagnier. It ends with you questioning and arguing in the bar afterwards about whether anything you just saw on screen “really” happened. So I recommend it.

Unlike Ludivine Sagnier’s character, who almost certainly deserves it, my diving beauty, Arethusa, has just been soundly spanked. So all is well. The world is safe.


The Ojastara Tales: The Dream 8

Hylas bent at the waist, tight, feeling his cock pressing up against his belly. He was very aware of Ojastara, behind him, holding the cane, watching him, he hoped admiring his slim musculature and his obedience.

At last he heard her say, “Spread your legs. and turn your toes inwards. I want to watch you while I punish you.”

Hylas moved obediently, presenting himself submitted, opened. He said, “Yes, Ojastara.”

She reached her hand between his thighs. He felt her cup his balls gently, then run a finger up the underside of his erect penis. “Good boy.” Her voice was amused. Then the contact was gone, and he sensed her step back.

Her voice was less affectionate when she said, “But now we resume your punishment, Hylas. Stay exactly in position, or I’ll double the number of strokes. Thank me after each one, and promise not to be a selfish fuck next time. After each stroke. Understood?”

“Yes, Ojastara.” 

“I like that you use my name when I’m punishing you. It shows you know this is intimate. Between lovers.” 

“Ojastara -” 

But then the cane landed, across his buttocks, just above the crease of his thighs. Its was much harder than any of the first six she’d given him. He fought for breath and control. “Thank you! I will not be a selfish fuck!” 

The second stroke landed the instant he said, “fuck”. It burned lower, directly on the soft crease between his buttocks and thighs.His body rocked with the impact, but he stayed down. At last he said, “Thank you, Ojastara! I will not be a selfish fuck!” 

And indeed, he believed his lesson. His behaviour the first time he’d fucked her, pursuing his pleasure and not staying with her: that was shameful. He had less than a second to have that thought before the next stroke landed, across the tops of his thighs, hard and remorseless.

He gasped out his thanks and apology again.

Ojastara beat him efficiently, giving him no time to recover between strokes. By the time the strokes had risen, in dactylos increments until the cane landed on the crown of his buttocks, he had long lost count. He knew only pain, submission to Ojastara and his desire for her. His desire to please her better. 

At last his grunts of pain turned to wails, and tears spilled from his eyes to the floor below him. There was a pause, and he gasped for breath, wondering where the next stroke would land. Instead Ojastara walked round to his front, and held the cane to his mouth. “Kiss the rod, boy.” 

Hylas did so. He felt no shame. He was hers, and he was proud to show her how deeply he had given himself. She said, “Straighten up, Hylas. Hands in your hair.” 

When he obeyed, fire blazing in his buttocks and thighs, cock projecting hard at his teacher, he saw her smile at him. In benediction. She reached for his cock again, caressed it gently with her left hand. He moaned. 

“Would you like to fuck me again?” 

“Gods, please, Ojastara.” 

Still with his cock in her hand, she walked backwards to his bed. She reached the edge and let herself fall. She looked at him and smiled.

“This part won’t hurt nearly so much, lovely Hylas. Come on.”

Wicked Wednesday: In the Realm of the Sensei 18

As they lay together on the couch, Asuka had said, “You caned Yua today.”

Seamus wasn’t surprised she’d heard. Asuka and Yua were friends, and anyway news like that always travelled swiftly in a school. He said, “Yes. Her excuses were too dumb. I got tired of them. Anyway, it’s my job to make her learn something.”

“She said you had a stiffy!”

Oh. Then she’d had a personal report. He said, “Well, She’s pretty. I’m human. And male. And heterosexual. It’s only natural. I kept my stiffy to myself though.”

“You rubbed her bottom!”

So he looked at Asuka. The question was accusing, but she didn’t look upset. “Yeah. She hugged me afterwards. It was kind of an automatic reaction. And that rub told me I’d done it right. Her skin was hot, like yours, where I’d caned her.”

“Did you want her? I mean want to fuck her?”

“As an animal? With a female animal enticing him? Yes, of course I did.”

“Oh, sensei.” She was trying to sound reproachful. He suspected he was being teased.

He held her chin, so she had to look at his face. “As a human man, with beautiful, sexy Asuka, I didn’t. While we’re together my cock is yours.”

She smiled, and lent down his body to take her possession in her mouth. So that was settled. He reached down to smack her bottom with his hand while she served him.

She spread her legs and lifted her  little ass to offer a better target. She took him deeper as the smacks fell, with greater enthusiasm.

They got to bed about midnight.

The next week Yua presented him with the double load of homework he’d demanded. He said he’d look at it later, but a cursory glance suggested that it was good. The English wasn’t idiomatic, but at least it was grammatical. Maybe, to get her up to speed, he could give her extra lessons.

Then he shook his head: nothing good could come of that.