punishment

Erotica: For Shame

February 27, 2017 By Phi Leave a Comment

Episode 1 of the Mr. and Mrs. Shameless Series

“Have you no shame?” he asked incredulously. She’d been bent over trying to pull a stubborn weed out of her front lawn. It was a hot day and she was wearing a short sundress. Standing up and turning toward the voice that had interrupted her struggle, she cocked her head to the side.

“Excuse me?”

“The way you’re dressed, you should take better care to watch what you’re showing off to the world, young lady. Obscenities do not belong in public.”

Young lady. Her eyes narrowed. She’d show him how young ladies could be obscene.

“DADDY!”

The front door opened and he came out, using his palm to shield his eyes he looked out onto the front lawn. “What’s up, pumpkin?”

She twisted at the waist so her skirt would flair up a bit as she turned. “Daddy, Mr. Buzzkill wants to know if I have any shame. Do I have any shame, Daddy?”

Her husband looked over at the man standing on the sidewalk. “What did she do?” They were peers – middle aged, salt and peppered.

“She was bent over in that short dress letting the world see everything she’s got. Look, I’m no prude, but it’s a dangerous time for women to be flashing their goodies all over the place without caring about consequences.”

“You are absolutely right. I should teach her some shame.”

“Oh, no Daddy, please no!”

“Bend over and show me all your goodies the way you were showing them to the world. I need to teach you a lesson.”
She dutifully bent over. The hemline of her skirt slid up her thigh to just under the lace trim of her white panties.
Stepping forward, her husband lifted the skirt, pulled her panties down and started unbuckling his belt.

“What are you doing?” The interloper was panicked.

“I’m teaching her about shame. It was your idea.” He unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. As he shoved it inside her he grunted toward her, punctuating each word with a slap to her ass, “You need to learn to care about consequences.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ll learn my lesson, I promise. Uhhh..yess….teach me that lesson right there, oh that lesson feels so good Daddy.”

The interloper ran back across the street to his home, and the suburban couple took their shameful display back inside.
A few minutes after she’d finished swallowing his load, the doorbell rang.

“Hey, guys. I got a complaint from your neighbor that you were having intercourse on your front lawn.”

“Hey Officer Bradley, you’re right on time. She’s ready for round 2.”
“You know, Simon, you could just call me over. I’m always happy to fuck your wife.”

“Yeah, but this way that nosy neighbor of mine gets something out of it.”

Phi is an erotic fiction writer. Phi (pronounced “fee”) came into kink at early age and renewed her connection with the lifestyle in 2014 after a decade-long hiatus. A somewhat popular and undeniably avid blogger on fetlife.com under the name phi-is-me, phi lives in the suburb of a suburb in southern California with two cats and six pillows.

BDSM Scene Ideas: Forced Exercise

February 8, 2016 By Desdemona 2 Comments

Being in Los Angeles, we have the advantage of many many types of dungeons, events, classes, and munches. But what if you live in a place that does not offer this type of diversity? We hope this ongoing BDSM scene idea series gives you some good ammunition to practice in the privacy of your own home.

This week we’re offering exercise scene ideas, inspired by a local forced exercise class at Dungeon East hosted by the talented Mistress Justine Cross and personal trainer Samuel Every. anniebear was lead through a series of exercises, but no tapping out if she got too tired. Mistress was at the ready with a crop for those lazy booties!

What you will need:
-Honestly, nothing! All you need is an open space for your bottom/slave/submissive to move about. But here are some recommended, optional accessories:
-yoga or exercise mat
-terrible (to your submissive’s tastes) music
-hitting implements-crop, cane, flogger, etc.
-timer or stopwatch (most phones these days come with time keeping apps)

You can prep this scene by scheduling an “exercise night” with your submissive. Give the illusion that you two are going to workout together and have them be at the ready in workout clothes on the designated date night. You should also show up in work out clothes too just to keep things going. If they pepper you with questions about the impending workout, simply say it’s a surprise but that you’re pretty sure they’ll enjoy it.

Begin with a quick interrogation of their recent eating and exercise habits. anniebear has a rule that she cannot eat sweets without asking permission so this would be a good time to see if the rule was broken. The fun part about this scene is it does not matter if your submissive is a health nut or hasn’t seen the inside of a gym in ten years, you can modify your torment to fit their abilities. We always recommend sticking to moderate/easy exercises unless you’re a trained professional. This is also the time to check in on any injuries new or old that they’ve sustained.

Once you’ve determined how good or bad they’ve been that week, let the exercise begin! I know one Master that makes his slave disrobe before the workout, thus enhancing the humiliation of the scene. The choice is entirely up to you. You’ll want to start every good work out with a stretch. Focus on lots of stretches that require bending over to better access the rear. You can deliver some good swats or spanks while they focus on stretching. Then of course, arms up to the sky to stretch the torso and torment the nipples.

For a warm up, start with jumping jacks. Put some music on that you know your slave will hate; anniebear particularly “enjoys” heavy metal/grunge (where the guy is kind of screaming over the top of a beat) or Britney Spears. Between each jumping jack, you’ll have access to swat or tease the genitals. Have them keep doing the jumping jacks until they’re a bit out of breath. You can introduce a stopwatch or timer, having them count aloud the number of jumping jacks they can accomplish in a certain time period. If they meet certain goals you can reward them…with more spankings of course!

Next, we’ll lay down on the floor for everyone’s favorite, sit ups! Sit ups or crunches are really hard for a lot of people. This would be a good time to offer some positive reinforcement and encouragement while at the same time reminding them that if they do not complete a set goal for number of crunches then they will be punished. If your submissive looks a little “heated” you can cool them down with a surprise, swift spray in the face with a spray/misting water bottle. The reaction will be hilarious!

Moving on to push ups. During this “workout” it’s important to recognize what your submissive is actually able to do and stick to that. However, you both may find your own joy in “making” them try to do one whole push up or pull up if that’s where they’re at physically. Some folks are into the humiliation aspect of it. It all depends what you’ve negotiated. The push up is a great opportunity to offer swats to the behind or increase difficulty by propping your feet on their back while they labor away. You can also focus n the under size by teasing or pinching the nipples.

Get creative with this scene! The possibilities are only limited by your submissive’s abilities and even then you can modify almost any task to make it less difficult. Do you have any funny or clever forced exercise ideas? We’d love to hear about it! Happy sweating (and swatting)!

Writer, photographer, hedonist, Dom. After years of at-home BDSM, Dexx finally embraced the kink community and met many fantastic fellow kinksters in the scene. Along the way, it occurred to him that it would be just super if there was a magazine-style web site which catered to people interested in BDSM, and he recruited some of his friends to help create it.

The Willing Subject

December 27, 2015 By Desdemona 1 Comment

Photographer: Dexx Models: Mistress Lucy and Renatta Collete

She loved to serve. To be subjected to the most mundane tasks pleased her immensely. Mistress enjoyed the torment. A foot stool, a shelf, any inanimate object-left for minutes or hours if she pleased.

Erotica: Wishful Thinking

December 7, 2015 By anniebear Leave a Comment

“What could be so bad about it? Tell me,” Mike demanded in a stern voice. I saw the glint in his eye so I knew he wasn’t really that mad…yet.

“It’s embarrassing! It’s not normal that I think about it so much.” I just couldn’t bring myself to confess. We were lying in bed, the lights still on and my face was burning under his scrutiny. We’d been on this particular line of conversation for a few minutes and his patience was running short.

“That’s it,” he got up and stalked towards the dresser. I knew what was coming.

“Ok, ok I’ll tell you I promise! Please don’t get it out!” I practically screeched.

“If you keep talking to me in that tone then I will.”

I breathed a deep sigh of relief, also to calm my voice. I hate electrical play and knew he was going to grab the cattle prod. One of the few implements I actually loathe and is only brought out for punishment. It’s not a hard limit…yet.

He came back over to the bed and leaned down next me, “So?”

“I think about getting kidnapped. It’s crazy I know but it’s a huge turn on. Obviously I’d never want it to actually happen to me in real life, but the thought of someone pursuing me or capturing me is so hot.” I finished quickly, watching his reaction. We had done some crazy things together, but this was on fringes of weird, even for us-or at least I thought so.

“Cool.” Was all he said. He promptly pecked me a kiss on the mouth, turned the lights out, pulled me in for a goodnight cuddle and settled in for sleep. I knew better than to question his reaction, but I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping a wink that night.

It was only many months later that this topic of conversation would resurface. I had finished up at the office, another extra long, exhausting day. I had been pulling longer hours than usual, preparing for a new launch. I grabbed my keys and threw my overstuffed bag over my shoulder. Exiting the building, I turned the corner and proceeded to walk to my car. I pulled my phone out to text Mike when I was unexpectedly grabbed from behind. My first thought was that my coworker was playing a prank on me. My annoyance quickly blossomed into fear when something was placed entirely over my head. I was so surprised, I didn’t even have time to make a peep, no more than a quick intake of breath. My bag was abruptly torn off of my shoulder as I was lifted off of the ground dropping both my keys and phone. I struggled as hard as possible, the terror and hysteria rising up within me. My eyes were watering; I wouldn’t exactly call it crying, just reacting. A voice very close told me to stop struggling or I would be hurt very badly.

I stilled, trying to remember everything I had ever learned in those women’s self-defense classes. Wasn’t I supposed to comply until an opportunity arose for escape? Or maybe I should struggle more and make a lot of noise. But just as soon as my brain made a decision, I was practically thrown into something, my ass slamming hard onto the metal surface-I must be in some sort of a van or truck. I quickly started to crawl…somewhere but was immediately detained by a man who chuckled at my sad attempt to escape. My hands were tied together or rather wrapped in duct tape.

My stomach was in knots. I didn’t recognize the murmured voices through my hood. Could this be something Mike set up? I feel like he would have come along for this part, wouldn’t he?

“Hello?” I squeaked. Silence, just the sound of the vehicle moving over the road. I assumed we were on a freeway, we hadn’t made any turns recently.

“Where are you taking me? Does Mike know I’m here?”

I had no idea how long we’d been driving but the vehicle made a few turns and then it sounded as if we had pulled onto some sort of gravel surface. We came to a stop. I had slowly wriggled my way to the back of the van or truck-whatever it was. I felt someone approach and I shrank back out was abruptly hauled off my rear and thrown out the door. I braced myself for impact but was caught and then lowered to the ground. As soon as my feet made contact I ripped away from my captor and started running-where I don’t know. I obviously couldn’t see anything so it was no surprise when I tripped and went tumbling down onto my knees, scraping them through my pants. The sobs I had been able to contain all along quickly came to the surface. The hands reached around me, lifting me up and over his shoulder. All I could hear was laughter as I was carried away.

I could hardly breath through my tears as my stomach was compressed over my captor’s shoulder. Snot was starting to run down my face. A door opened, making an echoing noise as we entered a space. I was astonished that these idiots could haul me around so much. I wasn’t exactly a small person. I had long limbs and was on the curvy size of the spectrum. Who are these guys? Body builders?

Finally, I was laid to rest on a cold, metal table. The hood was ripped from my head as I was blinded by an overhead medical light. My heart dropped into my stomach. I could tell there were other people in the room but could not make out faces or features because of the light. I made to stand but was quickly stopped, “Where do you think you’re going little girl?”

“No where?” Little girl? What the fuck? My sobbing had diminished to short sniffles and tears, having been replaced by paralyzing fear.

“We’ve got big plans for you. Inspect the merchandise,” he nodded to his cohort.

“M-merchandise?!”

A man approached and I could see he had a black cloth covering the lower part of his face. He grabbed my wrists and quickly slit the duct tape with a knife. He was wearing black medical gloves. I was so fucked.

My wrists were then buckled to the table and a strip of tape of slapped across my mouth.

“Don’t move!” he growled out.

He took the knife and began slitting my jeans from hem to hip, up both legs. Once they were in shreds, he ripped them from me. Goosebumps broke out as my skin made contact with the cold table and air, that and the profuse amount of sweat I was producing because I was so fucking scared. I was not convinced that this was Mike one single bit.

Next when my shirt and the skimpy bra I was wearing. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I mourned the loss of that favored piece of lingerie. Funny the things that cross your mind in a moment.

I was finally left in just my panties. There were three men surrounding me.

“Let’s take a look at the good stuff,” one of them leered. He quickly pinched my right nipple so hard my eyes watered. He started pawing and squeezing my entire breast while grabbing the nipple on the left one. There was a burning in my throat from the fear and bile rising from my stomach.

Another man grabbed my crotch through my panties. It was nice of them to leave my underwear on I suppose…but for how long? Should I lay here and take it? My ankles were still free. I slowly raised one ankle up, testing but it was immediately slammed back down. One of the men slapped my nipple, “You got somewhere to be, little slut?” He reached for my pussy and shoved one hand inside my panties. He looked up at me, a glint in his eye, “Well, well, well, what do we have here? The little slut is all wet.”

My face broke out in a dark, crimson blush. Embarrassment and humiliation washed through me. How could I possibly be excited at a moment like this?! I cursed my own body- it was such a traitor!

To be continued…

Slave Contracts: Part One

November 23, 2015 By Baadmaster 6 Comments

“The elephant in the room.” You’ve heard that expression a million times. For us at Kink Weekly, the “elephant in the room” is Fifty Shades of Grey. It has brought a kinda-sorta BDSM consciousness to the masses; its effects, both good and bad, cannot be ignored. This article will not address the pros and cons of this film, but rather it will expand on one of the most discussed aspect of it – slave contracts. While BDSM styles, protocols and rituals come and go, slave contracts endure. Slave contracts, to this day, are an integral part of many D/s and BDSM relationships. Why?

First, they are sexy. One cannot get hotter than a paragraph that says, “I will devote myself completely and totally to the pleasure and desires of my Master…”

Second, they remind the Dom/me and the sub of their duties during the term of the contract.

Third, they do render a small amount of legal protection were issues of consent to arise. (One cannot legally consent to being beaten; but a contract with the word “consensual” in it can mitigate some legal concerns.)

Finally, they are fun.

As an exclusive to Kink Weekly, we have compiled a number of slave contracts. After all, one size does NOT fit all. Surely, with the selection we are presenting, you will find a template that fits your needs. And remember, these contracts are subject to negotiation!

This first contract is the one I use. It is not open ended, has some great general rules and contains a safe word. (Although some High Protocol Masters eschew the safe word, I always use it.) This contract covers a lot of the bases – especially addressing “Work Rules of Conduct.” And the “I” is in lower case to reinforce submission!

Master/Mistress and Slave

Of my own free will and out of a desire to express my love and devotion to the man (woman) i love and adore, i offer myself in slavery to my Master for the period beginning on __________ and ending at noon on_____________.
Although i consider myself to be slave full-time to Master, during the time period expressed above, i will devote myself completely and totally to the pleasure and desires of my Master, without hesitation or consideration of myself or others.

General Rules

The slave agrees to obey her Master in all respects. his/her mind, body, heart and time belong to Him . The slave accepts the responsibility of using her safe word (red!) or safe signal (to be agreed upon) when necessary, and trusts implicitly in her Master to respect the use of that safe word. If a condition arises in which the slave needs to use the safe word or gesture, her Master will assess the situation, and determine an appropriate course of action.

The slave shall keep her body available for the use of her Master at all times. In addition, the slave agrees that her Master possesses the right to determine whether others can use her body and what use they may put it to. The Master will discuss all such instances in advance with the slave, to be certain that such play with others will not violate any established limits. The slave shall demonstrate her acceptance of her role of service and availability at all times while at home and at other times and places specified by her Master. The slave acknowledges that her Master may use her body or mind in any manner He wishes within the parameters of safety. He may hurt her without reason to please Himself. The slave enjoys the right to cry, scream or beg, but accepts the fact that these heartfelt expressions will not affect her treatment. Further, she accepts that if her Master tires of her noise, he may gag her or take other actions to silence her.

The slave will answer any questions put to her honestly and directly, and will volunteer any information her Master should know about her physical or emotional condition. While her Master expects His slave to speak honestly and forth rightly about anything that bothers her, she is not to interpret that as permission to whine or complain. she will phrase her concerns politely and respectfully, and then gracefully accept her Master’s judgment in these matters without further complaint.
The slave will always speak of her Master in terms of love and respect. She will address him at all times as either “Master” or “Sir” (see Public Rules of Conduct).

The Master may give the slave “free periods” in His presence during which the slave may express herself openly and freely. There will be no punishments applied during “free periods.” It is understood, however, that the slave will continue to address her Master with respect and love at all times and that deviations from the rule are subject to punishment at a later time.
The slave agrees that severe punishment may be assessed for any infraction of the letter or spirit of the contract, and will accept the correction gratefully. The form and extent of the punishment shall be at the Master’s pleasure, and the Master shall make it clear to the slave that she is being punished when punishment occurs. The Master shall endeavor not to inflict physical harm upon the slave that might require the attention of anyone outside the relationship. Master and slave agree that in extremes either may activate a free period by using the safe word. The free period will continue until both parties agree that the problem(s) concerned are resolved.

The slave is permitted to engage in any and all activities not actively forbidden by the contract or by later edict of the Master. All rights and privileges not otherwise noted in this contract belong to the Master, and He may exercise them as He chooses.

Private Rules of Conduct

On days when her Master is at work, the slave will greet Him wearing her collar, wrist restraints, and a shirt belonging to her Master. She will wear no underclothes in His presence unless given permission. On days when the Master is home, the slave will wear whatever is deemed appropriate by her Master. When in the same room as her Master, the slave will ask permission before leaving the room, explain where she is going, and why. At mealtimes, the slave will serve her Master, and sit at His feet while He eats. Food for the slave will be given by the Master at His discretion. When speaking to her Master or being spoken to by Him, the slave will assume a demeanor of alert attention and will meet her Master’s eyes directly, unless instructed to do otherwise.

Public Rules of Conduct

The slave will conduct herself at all times in such a manner as to not call attention to Master and slave. she will call her Master/Mistress by His/Her name only if the use of “Master” is inappropriate. The slave will defer to her Master in public. The slave may dress herself, but must seek approval of any clothing she wishes to wear in public. Unless specifically stated otherwise, the slave may not wear panties.

Work Rules of Conduct

No part of the agreement is intended to interfere with the slave’s career. The Master wishes the slave to work hard and honestly, in general to conduct herself in a manner calculated to bring honor and respect to them both. During periods of work, the slave is permitted to schedule appointments, to dress in a manner appropriate to work, and to leave the house when necessary. During periods of work, the slave may answer the telephone and discuss business without the expressed permission of her Master. With my signature below, i agree to accept and obey all preceding rules as well as any rules my Master may choose to issue at a later date. i gratefully consign by body and soul to my Master for His pleasure and use for the contract period noted above.

_____________________________________________ slave __________________ Date

I accept My slave’s desire to serve Me more fully, and take responsibility for her well-being, training and discipline to more perfectly serve My will.

_________________________________________ Master/Mistress _________________ Date

For those of you who wish a shorter, more general and yet more sexually based slave contract, I offer the following:

Slave Contract

This contract sets out the conditions of mutual consent under which _________________________ is to be held in sexual bondage and the terms of her enslavement.

Of my own free will, I offer myself in slavery to my Master/Mistress for the period beginning on __________ and ending at noon on_____________.

This contract also affirms that she/he shall be offered the use of a safe word (safe word: _______), the use of which in any situation whatsoever automatically stops any activity at that time.

Slave also has the right to cancel any and all conditions of this contract at any time.

Conditions:
I accept sexual use and abuse of my body while under discipline for any purpose.
I accept that I shall be placed in and kept under strict discipline within the negotiated time limit.
I accept any form of punishment meted out to me while under discipline.
I accept any form of restraint and chastisement, administered as Master desires.
I accept that the various forms of torment to which I am to be subjected may cause suffering. I wish it to be known through this document that I am aware that any such suffering is part of my training program.
I accept that I am subject to the absolute rule of my Master and those to whom he delegates that rule. This may be taken to mean that I am subject to sale, exchange, or loan without redress to those of corresponding status with my Master, but only within the context of this contract.
I accept that subtle rebellion is expected of me, and lack of it taken to the point of docility is likely to terminate this contract.
I accept that no form of disobedience will be tolerated when in the company of my Master, other Masters or Mistresses and slaves and that I must conduct myself precisely as instructed on each specific occasion.
I accept that I remain under the disciplinary code imposed by this contract at all times and am bound by it’s terms and conditions in all situations, whether closely supervised or not.

I _________________________, do set my signature to this document of my own free will, thus becoming the property of _____________________________, in full understanding that I may be used for any sexual or disciplinary purpose whatsoever, without prior limits.

SIGNED: _____________________________________ slave Date: ____________

SIGNED: _____________________________________ Master Date: ____________

Next week, we will be presenting two more slave contracts, one of which will include collaring. With this selection, we hope you
can find the right slave contract for your relationship.

By BaadMaster
After a ten year run as head writer for the legendary bondage.com, and an equally long run as the host of the hit internet show “Baadmaster’s Dungeon,” we are pleased to welcome the one and only Baadmaster to KinkWeekly. His thoughts about all things BDSM will now appear regularly on these pages. From the mental aspects of D/s to the nuts and bolts of S&M play, Baadmaster will cover every facet of this ever expanding lifestyle.

The Little Brat

November 16, 2015 By Desdemona 1 Comment

Photographer: Dexx Model: Renata Colette

She was home alone and feeling neglected. She set up her phone and snapped a few cheeky shots for Daddy.

“That should get his attention,” she thought with a laugh.

Her phone suddenly buzzes to life. A new text message.

“I get home in two hours.” It was Daddy!

“You’re going to get it and that little bear too. Be ready….”

Erotica: Michelle, the Prequel

November 2, 2015 By Phi Leave a Comment

I was excited. I was also fucking nervous. Mistress had me in training for three weeks with her other girls before she’d even let me spend the night at the mansion. They worked me raw having me learn positions and study current events and cleaning – good god, all the fucking cleaning. And it had to be done “The way Mistress likes it.” Every time. Even shit she’d never see, like making the beds in the guest rooms.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful, it was that I’d signed up for more than this. I felt like the Karate Kid doing wax on wax off stuff before figuring out that it was preparing me for what was to come. And in my head I knew that. And I tried to be patient, but I guess patience isn’t really in my nature.

Each night I’d wrap up my training and wait in a room while my “sisters” went in to report on my progress. Each night I waited for Mistress to walk back through the double doors and welcome me to stay.

Each night, Juliette would be the one to walk back through the doors. “Mistress thanks you for your service and wishes you a good night. Please return tomorrow morning at eight o’clock.”

And that would be it. I’d go back to my shitty apartment that I shared with roommates I barely knew, and masturbate myself to sleep.

By the end of the third week, I was starting to get used to the routine. I’d catch glimpses of Mistress as she’d wander in from time to time during my studies. Wanting to impress her, I’d stay focused on my tasks – and other than a courteous “Good morning, Mistress,” or “Good evening, Mistress,” I’d carry on with whatever I was doing. I’d been taught that was “the way Mistress likes it.”

The day Mistress walked back through those double doors alongside Juliette, I fell to my knees before her and kissed the ground at her feet without being told.

“You’ve made excellent progress,” she said. “I’m hosting a get-together this weekend. Tomorrow morning, you and I will have a chat and discuss your place in this household. If we come to an agreement, I will introduce you as a member of my House at the party on Saturday.”

“Yes, Mistress,” was all I could say. With that, she turned and walked out. I didn’t come up until I heard Juliette speak, “I’ll show you to your room whenever you’re ready.”

I was ecstatic. All that hard work had paid off! And the following morning, instead of waking up in my shitty apartment with my shitty roommates, I woke up in a beautiful bedroom with my own adjacent bathroom.

Over breakfast, Juliette tried prepping me for my conversation with Mistress, but I kept zoning out, daydreaming about being introduced at the party. I imagined what I would wear – a brand new black leather collar and my dark blue corset with back-seamed stockings and heels. I would look perfect for her, and all her guests would be watching me and envious of her and I would be her most prized possession.

“Just remember, she likes things the way she likes them. Don’t question her. Are you listening?” Juliette was waving her hand in front of my face.

“Yes, Mistress likes things a particular way. Got it.” My mind wandered back to the curve of my cleavage in that corset.

My conversation with Mistress went well. She already knew a lot about my background from my application and initial interview. This was more about letting me know about her expectations if I were to accept her collar. Obedience, charm, respect, and loyalty. All the traits I’d spent three weeks learning about and training in.

“Do you know why I selected your application?” she asked me.

I was stunned. I’d not put much thought into it. I’d assumed it was because she found me attractive, but I didn’t want to say that out loud. It was as though she read my mind, though, because she smirked “It’s not because of your ass, though I do plan on enjoying your physical attributes to their fullest, and very soon.”

I bit my lower lip in an effort not to smile broadly.

“I selected you because you have spirit,” she said. “My house runs very smoothly. I don’t have cause to dole out punishment very often.” She stood up from her chair behind the desk and walked toward me.

“Kneel.” she said.
I knelt, hands shaking.

She was holding a collar.

“Chin up, look at me.” As she said it, she took a forceful grasp of my chin and pulled it up anyway. I opened my eyes and looked into the darkness in her eyes.

“I enjoy breaking the spirited ones. I’m going to enjoy breaking you.” she whispered. If she hadn’t been holding me up, I might have melted into a puddle right there.

“Do you accept my collar?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She fastened it around my neck, and pulled me up by the hair. I scrambled to stand as the pain shot through my scalp.

“You will not be clothed from now until after the party Saturday night. Nobody but myself has permission to touch you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.” My voice was hoarse with desire as I started stripping off my clothes in response.

“I mean nobody,” she paused and smiled cruelly. “Not even you.” She punctuated that last sentence with a sharp pinch of my left nipple. I winced in response, and she slapped my face in response to that.

I fell silent, but inside, I felt my face flushing. Emotionally I was feeling vulnerable and angry simultaneously. I called on my training for the previous three weeks and with a deep breath, calmed myself back into submission.

As I prepared for the party two nights later, I found myself staving off anxiety attacks. I reached into my purse and took half a xanax, just to take the edge off. I’d not touched myself in nearly 48 hours, nor had anybody else. I’d been doing household chores all morning wearing nothing but my collar. That afternoon, Mistress entertained herself by having Juliette and Brendan fuck each other in the garden as I served her lunch.

Watching them fuck, and watching Mistress direct them from one position to the other to the next while they obeyed without question had me so wet I was dripping down my thighs.

Every once in a while she’d look over at me and everything about her expression screamed “I know you want to touch yourself and I am not letting you.”

Her guests started arriving around 7pm. It was the who’s who of the BDSM community. Juliette had taken her place at Mistress’ side, while I was tasked with offering wine to the guests upon their arrival. Everyone was dressed beautifully, women in latex and leather and beautiful corsets. The men in suits. I was the only one completely nude except for my collar. Not even a pair of heels to accentuate my legs.

I felt everyone’s eyes on me. I could feel them staring at my ass as I walked past them, and they didn’t hide from ogling my tits at all. Some of them were even leering.

But nobody touched me. I was dripping wet and at that point, even the ugliest fucker in the room could have slid his fingers inside me and I’d have been grateful.

I went into the wine cellar to open another bottle of red wine, and poured myself a glass, quickly gulping it down before returning to the party.

That was probably where things went completely wrong. I’d forgotten about the xanax I’d taken earlier. My libido was out of control, and Mistress had hardly said more than two friendly words to me in two days.

I watched with envy as Juliette served at her side. That would be my place one day, I thought. But first I had to get through the evening.

Mistress finally looked up and called me over. Finally. I set down my tray of wine glasses and walked over to her. “Yes, Mistress?” I curtsied. There were three or four people around her at the time – men and women I recognized as leaders in the community.

“Saffron hasn’t had a walk in ages. Go take her out around the block. Don’t come back until she’s done her business.”
I was shocked.

“Outside?” I asked.

She raised her eyebrow. “Yes. Outside.” Her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “I’m trying to avoid her doing her business in the house.”

“But…” I felt the anger boiling up. This was my coming out party and she’d been ignoring me the entire time, except to tell me to walk her dog?

“But what?” her tone was getting cooler.

“You said I can’t get dressed until after the party.”

“Yes.”

“And you want me to walk your dog in the street, naked?”

“And now you’ll do it while wearing a ball gag and a plug up your ass.”

My mouth dropped open. Was she nuts? And before I could stop myself, I said the words I would eventually learn to regret for a long, long time.

“You’re a bossy fuckin’ bitch, aren’t you?”

The entire room fell quiet. Juliette’s eyes went so wide it looked like that Soundgarden video from the 90s.
Mistress didn’t say it to anybody in particular. She didn’t have to.

“Get her out of my sight.”

It was Brendan who pulled me out of the room and dropped me off at the end of the hallway.
He didn’t say a word. There was nothing to be said. I’d fucked the hell up.

And I was going to pay for it.

Clean Slate

September 27, 2015 By anniebear 7 Comments

The idea of punishment as a form of reprimand is not new. It’s been a fixture in many D/s dynamics as long as they have existed. For myself, punishment is a double-edged sword. On the one hand I find it to be a necessary part of my D/s dynamic. On the other, there is the associated shame that comes along with it; the shame in having to be punished in the first place. In recent months, I’ve achieved a greater sense of clarity regarding the positive impacts of punishment.

I’m a submissive at heart, a manager in my day job, but a brat/babygirl somewhere in between. I still war within myself. I struggle through the transition from my day-to-day, in charge duties to my time with my Dominant. There tends to be some residual snottiness that I hang onto. He knows it. He is always prepared for it. Someday, the attitude won’t be there anymore (or maybe it will?), but in these early stages of self-realization and awareness-it’s still rearing it’s ugly head. On the heels of this behavior are the constant mistakes and missteps. There are always feelings of failure and me kicking myself because I forgot a protocol or rule. I am always working on my self-esteem and becoming the best babygirl for Him. This will always be my present mode of operation as a work in progress.

In terms of punishment: He and I have a two-part understanding. If I make a mistake, disobey a rule/protocol, or upset him, I will be punished in a manner of his choosing. The second part of the understanding is that immediately following the punishment, the slate is wiped clean and W/we never bring up the offense again. He will never hold the mistake over my head (nor would he want to) and I will never have to live with the worry of not being held responsible for my actions. This prevents me from dwelling in the past, admittedly another bad habit of mine.

For example’s sake, I’ll use a personal rule and punishment that we have encountered. I’m forbidden from indulging in sweets without asking permission first. Often times, I’ll be running around at my job, and the constant allure of the candy dish at the front desk is too tempting! I’ve taken a piece or two, only to immediately turn around and text him my mistake. Because of our schedules, he has a routine of letting all of my infractions add up over the week before administering punishment. This also contributes to my shame and guilt surrounding such things. Punishment comes by way of either a spanking or by lulling me into a fun play session that unexpectedly includes punishments. There are all types of specific rules and punishment protocols that belong solely to each relationship. It’s a learning process to pick and choose what is realistic within your dynamic. Exactly how much of your end of the bargain are you able to uphold? It’s important to set rules and guidelines that you know you’ll be able to realistically follow within your dynamic.

This brings up another point worth discussing; what is the difference between a punishment and play? On the surface, a punishment is something you do not enjoy or want. In this example, the “not wanting” part is still consensual in the context of the D/s dynamic. However, the punishment may be something more extreme than your regular play. It may even be something he (or she) knows you loathe. The point is, the goal is not for you to enjoy it but rather be taught a lesson or reminder. There is not only the “physical” pain of punishment, but also the emotional or psychological aspect as well. You feel guilty and sorry for what you have done and need to be taught a lesson.

Going back to the no sweets rule; this example definitely on the lighter side for the types of rules we have within our dynamic, but one can see the potential here. We also have rules surrounding some of my other poor habits such as self-confidence issues and/or negative thoughts. I’ve heard of other couples implementing rules regarding housework or curfew times. The options are endless!

By implementing this punishment methodology, as a submissive there comes a sense of relief. Imagine doing something wrong, receiving a reprimand, and never having to talk about it again. Granted, there will be times where I most assuredly will commit some sort of error that may require a long-term adjustment. Just because we live in this methodology does not mean there won’t be a necessity for bringing up old problems again but W/we don’t look at it as bringing up old wounds. Sometimes you have to dissect a series of events or behaviors in order to better understand the underlying root or reason. But to live in a dynamic, free from animosity, to live with transparency; that is of the utmost importance to U/us both. There is also a standard in which bratty behavior and rule-breaking for the sake of receiving attention or punishment is not acceptable. The whole point of protocols is not to use or abuse the system.

The idea sounds so simple that one must think it would fail in practice. I’m whole-heartedly astonished that it works so brilliantly for U/us as well. It’s all about the accountability, communication, and expectations. He holds me to a high standard. He has expectations of me that he sees through to completion. I have an expectation that he will hold me accountable for the things I’ve been assigned to or the protocols W/we have outlined. Punishment plays a major role in this. The best part about all of these expectations is that they are constantly changing and evolving. W/we both have license to ask for revisions. He especially has that license to “break out the big guns” if some aspect has become completely broken in the dynamic. W/we’ve reached a communal state of understanding. The daily relief and security I feel in this comes with the knowledge of that accountability.

Writer, model, babygirl, submissive. After trying vanilla relationships one time too many, anniebear finally realized her submissive desires and discovered the BDSM community. When not writing for Kink Weekly, she enjoys spankings and being tied with rope.

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