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.

Sinful Sunday: Aftermath or intermission?

This was another of those canings that had no disciplinary message. Just pleasure, and colour. We both loved the way Arethusa coloured, and striped, and I always felt it was my duty to keep her marks fresh.

But the man with the cane, at about this point, will pause and wonder if there should be more stripes, or whether his girl looks so hot that it’s time to move on to other things. There are pleasures and possibilities with either choice.

I know which decision I made. But reading this image, you’ll just have to guess.  

Wicked Wednesday: In the Realm of the Sensei 17

Asuka, unusually, had beaten him home.

He opened the door to find her naked, and bowing, bent at the waist. Her mouth was pursed and partly open, in the same offer that Yua had made. He stepped inside. She undid his pants and took his cock in her mouth, sucking until he was hard.

He held her head tight to him, and pumped into her mouth. He had been holding back all day, thanks to Yua’s temptations. But at last he pushed her head away. He didn’t want to come in her mouth.   

She said, “Am I a bad girl, Seamus?”

“No, you’re the best of all possible girls. Little tanshi. Angel.”

She smiled, but she said, “I want to be your bad girl again. Do what you did before. Everything.”

So Seamus led her, her hand in his, into the bedroom, and she knelt on all fours on the bed while he caned her, two dozen strokes, but not as hard as the first night he’d punished her. Still, she cried out and wriggled with every stroke, for his benefit. She enjoyed putting on a show. 

Asuka was entranced, expecting more, but he climbed onto the bed, placed his knees between hers.

He used proper lubrication, recently purchased, to ease his path before he condommed up and entered her tight little hole.

Their fuck was rougher and faster than their first time, and Seamus managed to stay with her until she’d come repeatedly, and slumped flat onto the bed, exhausted. He fell beside her, sweating and cockproud.

When they’d recovered, Asuka said, in English, that a woman’s work is never done.

She padded, naked, to the kitchen. She cooked for him again. Until then it had mostly been Seamus who made meals, but she seemed to have decided it was her role, since her surrender. Or conquest, whichever it truly was.  It was as if she cooked as a kind of erotic theatre. She was role-playing, being a submissive Japanese wife. She could play with that role, because it was one thing she never would be.

When she’d made something with noodles, prawns and mushrooms, she brought out only one plate, for him, and slipped her robe off. Naked, she offered him morsels with her chopsticks, occasionally taking food for herself. Seamus humored her for a while, but he felt too much like a baby bird being fed by its mother, and he told her to sit beside him and eat. She did. Heartily.

Afterwards they lay on the couch together, both naked, Seamus lying on his back and Asuka snuggled in his arms. Eventually she said, “You caned Yua today.”

The Ojastara Tales: The Dream 7

Hylas, naked, bent at the waist, touching his toes, felt the absence of the cane, and then, three seconds later, its return, burning a line of fire across his buttocks. The slap of bamboo on his flesh echoed in the room. Ojastara was not being playful now, nor holding back. 

He remembered he had seen his father discipline one of the household slavegirls, the punishment seeming to exceed her trivial fault. That poor, pretty girl and counted each stroke aloud, and thanked her master for her lesson, after each stroke. Ojastara had not asked for that display of submission. 

But it felt right. He knew his father had whipped that girl for sexual reasons, and that the two of them had spent that night together. Some of the sounds of pleasure from that room had clearly been female.

He said, “One, thank you. Ojastara.”

She paused, surprised. Then she said, “Good boy, Hylas.” But the next stroke, just a dactylos below the first, was if anything harder.

His breath hissed with the pain. He wondered if she could make him cry out. Then he stopped wondering. Of course she could.

When he could speak he gasped, “Two, thank you, Ojastara.” 

She said, “Good boy. But you don’t need to count any more. Just stay in position while I punish you. Why are you being punished?”

He looked at the floor between his head. “Because I failed to satisfy you, Ojastara.” 

The cane whipped in again. He wasn’t expecting it and he yelped. It had not taken her long. She said, “That’s right, Hylas. Now, I liked hearing you whine just then. I’ll have more of that. Keep your mouth open, for the rest of this beating. So I can hear you.” 

His face burned fiercely. He said, “Yes, Ojastara.” He could feel that the pain of his three strokes, and her utter unconcern for his dignity were having their effect. Blood flowed to his cock. 

Ojastara applied another three strokes, his vocal grunts and yelps getting a little louder with each fresh application of pain. Then she put the cane in his mouth. He closed his mouth then, to hold it. She said, “Stand up now, Hylas. Hands in your hair.”

He obeyed, knowing he was displaying a half-erect and steadily expanding cock. She stepped close and took it in her hand, squeezed it. Then she kissed him, stroking his cock lightly. She smiled at him. “That’s a useful reflex you have. Should I tell Phyrne that being beaten makes you hard?”

He couldn’t organise his thoughts to answer. He didn’t want the humiliation of that. Or perhaps he did. Her hand on his cock was what he knew. At last he said, “Whatever you think best, Ojastara.”

She smiled. “Hmmmph. Well, we’ll see.” Then she removed the cane from his mouth. “Well, I don’t think we’re quite finished yet, Hylas. Bend over again, boy. Touch your toes. We’ll continue.” 


Kink of the Week: Thoughts on Flogging

We Doms/Dommes sometimes make house calls. Sometimes. Conditions apply. The submissive has to have been exceptionally bad. Or good.

But when we come visiting we can’t take all our paraphernalia with us. Generally the whipping bench and the leather sling attachable to the ceiling have to stay at home. Forlorn.

We have to choose just a few treasured items to take with us.

Some Dom/mes have a basic house call bag. There’s mine, above. A flogger, a tawse and a paddle.

As well as those implements it contains the usual stuff: padded cuffs, a collar and leash, nipple clamps, condoms, lubes and so on.

But if I was only going to bring one implement to a scene, it would be a flogger.


In this post “implements” means “things used in impact play, usually on the buttocks and upper thighs.”

There are two kinds of implements, broadly speaking. Some are rigid or nearly so, like a hairbrush, wooden paddle, ruler, cane and so on. Others are pliable, like a belt or strap, a whip or a flogger.

The difference between a whip and a flogger can get a little hazy, but essentially, a whip has a single tail, or anything up to around five. From the recipients’ point of view, whips are generally thought to deliver a stingy sort of sensation.

Floggers generally start around nine tails (the cat’o’nine tails used in the Navy was essentially a flogger). And from the recipients’ point of view, they deliver a thudding sensation. As most submissives prefer thud to sting, that makes floggers more popular than whips.

Kinds of flogger

There are two basic kinds of flogger. Some have hard lashes, whether of leather or whipcord, rubber or silicon. Others have soft lashes, of soft leather, often suede, or rubber or silicon.

There’s one more distinction to make. Most floggers have lashes about half to a third of a metre long, and are fairly substantial implements. They can be used while the partners are in bed together, but also for a more formal flogging, in which the submissive is bound, standing up or lying across the bed, while their disciplinarian stands a short way aside from them to deliver the strokes.

There’s another class of flogger that is much smaller, almost always has soft lashes, of about 10 to 20 centimetres long. These can’t really be used for whole body flogging: they are designed for nipples, cunts, cocks, the sensitive skin between the buttocks, and other areas that couples, or threesomes or whatever, considers to be especially erogenous and sensitive.

1   Flogger with hard lashes

This implement comes closest to being a whip. That’s partly because the lashes are hard like a whip’s tail or tails.

So this implement is best in a relationship where the submissive partner likes more pain than most, and where there is a D/s or M/s relationship.

The advantage is that it’s easy to use and aim, and though it delivers the right kind of pain, very effectively, it’s unlikely to draw blood or do any harm unless the person wielding it behaves like an absolute maniac.

The disadvantage of the flogger with hard lashes is simply that it may hurt the submissive more than she or he likes. The Dom/me has to take care and make sure the submissive is feeling sexy and happy. And that may be easier with a soft lashed flogger.

The feedback I’ve had from submissive I’ve flogged using this kind of instrument is that it hurts, of course. A hard flogging will leave redness and sometimes small welts that will last a few days.

Other submissive reported that the impacts were too intense to be enjoyable as they happened, but that the glowing heat and the sense of having been genuinely punished was worth it. In short, they didn’t enjoy the flogging, but they loved having been flogged.

This implement definitely has its place, but it should be used carefully.

2.  Flogger with soft lashes

The soft lashed flogger is probably the flogger I would take with me on a one-implement mission. It tends to be popular with submissives. It delivers thud more than sting, and that seems to be the ideal mix in impact play. For most people.

Like the hard-lashed flogger, it’s easy to use and aim. It delivers warm, good-painful sensation, and the blush from a good flogging can last a couple of days. It has to be used extremely hard to get more marking than that.

That’s a useful fact, for submissives who go swimming, gymming and other activities where they have to change in public or leave their upper thighs or lower buttocks exposed.

Everybody has different tastes, even submissives! However, I’ve yet to play with a submissive who likes impact play who doesn’t openly or “secretly” love the soft-lashed flogger. It’s relatively gentle, with a kind of warm comfort mixed with the pain. It can safely be used for a long, long flogging while the submissive drifts off to that floaty space where submissives may go.

Though if the Dom/me wants it can be used harder and more punishingly. I like to give a “reminder” stroke every so often, in the middle of a flogging, so the submissive doesn’t feel that their flogging is predictable or within their control.

Disadvantages? At the moment I can’t think of one. I suppose you’d choose something else if you were going for an intense “real punishment” scenario.

So if I were going to visit a submissive, especially one who is new to “discipline”, and I could bring only one implement, the soft-lashed flogger is the one I’d bring.

3.   The cute little flogger

This small flogger isn’t one you can usefully use for whole body punishment, unless you have a lot of time on your hands. It’s for flogging erogenous zones, essentially.

Its big advantage is sexual intimacy: you use it at close quarters, to flog your partner’s cock or cunt, their perineum and the sensitive skin between the lower buttocks. And you use it on nipples.

Many small floggers come with a dildo handle, so that when the submit is aroused, the Dom/me can insert the dildo into sensitive spaces, and stimulate their submissive another way. I recommend one of those, so long as you can find one that you think looks stylish.

Generally I like natural fibres best, and my choice for the two larger floggers reviewed above is leather.

However, I’ve found that for this smaller implement silicon lashes are better. They can be heavier than leather, so that a small implement with short lashes can deliver a satisfactory thud. Silicon also allows for finer lashes than you can usefully get with leather strips. And finally, it’s easier to clean. Do these little floggers have a place in a Dom/me’s toolkit? Yes.

General notes

When shopping you should look carefully at the way it’s made. Personally I’ve never had or handled a flogger that wasn’t well made. Standards are high. Still, check before you buy. The handle should be solid, and reasonably weighty.

Some makers produce floggers with quite wide lashes. It’s a matter of taste, but I prefer lashes to be fairly narrow. Maybe a little over a centimetre for a soft lash, a little under a centimetre for a hard lash. But your taste may vary. A shop should allow you to have a practice swing or two, so you get the one that feels right to you.

Colour is up to you. I prefer the traditional black, though I once bought a pink one, because the intended recipient was a very girlie girl, and though she liked discipline she liked to feel it came with sparkles and a bow. Anyway, colour is up to you.

Happy flogging! Or being flogged!

Wicked Wednesday: In the Realm of the Sensei 16

Seamus realized Yua could feel his erection, was pressed against it. Damn, he thought, meaning that several things, some of them contradictory, were regrettable. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back, until the contact was gone and he could think again.

“Yes, you’re a very pretty girl, Yua. You know it, a little too well, I think. And I know it too. But I’m …” He tried to remember the Japanese word. “Taken. You know that. But I’m going to pay attention to you and your schoolwork from now on. You’re going to work hard for me, Yua, or I’ll punish you so hard that you really do cry. Yes?”

“Hai, sensei.” The same as Asuka called him, since he’d started to discipline her. He wondered if Asuka and Yua had talked. They were friends.

By a superhuman effort he managed not to smack her bottom with his hand, before he sent her skipping to her next class.

After school he brought Amida back his cane. Amida had offered him red wine while Seamus told the story of Yua’s punishment, with some details missing. But Amida said, “Did she take you in her mouth?”


“Oh! You fucked her?”

“Actually no. I’m trying to stay, well, impersonal.”

“Then you’re going to have more trouble with that girl. That’s a certainty. You must be the only one of the young male teachers she hasn’t fucked yet.” Amida grinned. “Yes, that means I’ve had the pleasure. It is a pleasure; Yua’s a very luscious fuck. And she knows her way around a cock. It’s as if she has her own kind of sexual magic. But believe me, Seamus, if she wants you, she’s not going to give up.”

“Well, she’s sexy, no question. In body and mind. But I think I’m going to hold out.”

“Ah. There’s Asuka. She’s even more beautiful. But she’d let you, you know. You’re a man, and women know that men have their needs.”

Seamus frowned at that, but said something man-of-the-worldish, and they parted.