Reality bites… and doesn’t let go.
I once again bumped into a lady who was intrigued by my personal ad on a vanilla dating site. ‘Something’ in my ad grabbed her attention firmly enough to cause her to read it thoroughly, and track me down to make contact on Facebook (because on this particular dating site males are not permitted to message unless they have taken out a small mortgage in membership).
As per my previous liaison, this woman had no experience of erotic spanking, but surely there was something buried in her psyche to cause her intense reaction to my profile. She was very attractive, and very keen to experience the form of erotic discipline that I am able to offer, although understandably extremely nervous.
We talked, and I explained stuff. In due course we arranged to meet for a chat over a drink, and possibly a little gentle introductory OTK action. She arrived early, dressed and polished like a new pin. I went to meet her outside and escorted her into the restaurant, but the vibes weren’t good. She confessed to being extremely nervous, which is understandable, but there was more to it.
Over drinks we made introductory small-talk, but quite soon she made the statement that was obviously weighing on her mind “It isn’t going to happen”. Apparently a decision taken during the drive down, and confirmed to herself on arrival. We chatted some more, and she apologised, but it was clear she really just wanted to escape as soon as polite proprieties would allow.
To be clear, I consider that she did exactly the right thing. She could have just turned around and left, or not even arrived, but she braved it out and did the decent thing by explaining herself as best she could. If something doesn’t feel right, then it is a mistake to press ahead regardless, and it takes courage to face the other person with the bad news.
Not a situation I have experienced before, and if I’m honest, quite a personally crushing occurrence. Human nature being what it is, I began to question what I may have done or said wrong. I couldn’t think of anything untoward. I questioned whether I had misrepresented myself online, causing an unpleasant shock ‘in the flesh’, but I am as open and honest as circumstances allow and we had exchanged real-time photos the previous week.
I am left to conclude that this lady had an inner conflict between desire and real life. It could be argued that she hadn’t seriously thought through the steps she was preparing to take, but she is smart, experienced and confident with people, a planner, and so it seems unlikely that she hadn’t considered carefully in advance.
The affect of this meeting was to leave me feeling that she had taken one look at me and run. But that is not the typical reaction and so I prefer to believe that she suddenly found herself so far removed from her comfort zone that panic set in and she hastened back to safety.
The lesson for any other hopeful man, is to expect disappointment. Even if both parties take all the right precautions, and take time to understand the other online, in the end reality can come as a sudden shock. And for any woman considering finding a lap to lay over, it is vital to think through the full ramifications of the journey, repeatedly.
This lady was keen that I write about our liaison, although I expect she anticipated a more fulfiling outcome, and I rather suspect her motivation was to ward off any other passing females. I fancy she will drop by to see if I did as promised, and ‘the yearning’ is still locked within her so she may well be back to see how ‘Rachel’ is getting on. And who knows, perhaps one day her ‘inner naughty girl’ will win the day 
New Year – New Opportunities
It is a tough life for a part-time Dominant [Audience: "awww"]. At the end of last year I bumped into a mature lady who was intrigued by my personal ad on a vanilla dating site. She had never experienced any form of ‘physical discipline’, ever, and by all accounts spanking (et al) had never featured in her fantasies either. But “something” in my ad grabbed her attention firmly enough to cause her to read it thoroughly, and to make a tentative enquiry.
To cut a long story short (I have not asked her permission to reveal the details of our playtime together and so that must remain private), we chatted to and fro and met for a drink and talked things over some more. The impluse must have been strong because she decided that she wanted to go ahead and experience some of the things we had been discussing. Obviously I am unable to offer any form of full-time relationship, although I do prefer to maintain ongoing part-time relationships whenever possible. She was single and really looking for LTR. However, it was agreed that she continue her search, and take advantage of the opportunity to play and explore herself in the interim.
You will understand that I have been actively spanking for 30 years or so, and in that time I have heard about how most people ‘discover their spanking selves’. Either they have been aware that it was within them from childhood, and typically deeply suppressed until much later in life. Or it slowly intruded into their mindset as they matured. While some face up to themselves from the start and seek out kinky partners, it is very common for women to bury their dark desires and only decide to do something about it at around 40+, typically after the breakup of their marriage. The majority find that the desire to be spanked increases in importance during their early relationship but it feels too weird to actually confess it to their spouse and it remains buried until such time that they have the freedom to finally ‘come out’.
So, encountering a woman of her maturity who had never even fantasized about ‘adult discipline’, erotic power exchange, bondage etc, was a new one for me. I carried some misgivings initially, but her response to my descriptions of what might take place, and access to this blog, did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm and so the first playtime was arranged. Suffice to say it went well, I was quite restrained and took things as slowly and carefully as my enthusiasm would allow. The acid test was whether she requested a repeat performance. She did, and moved things on by suggesting other options she would like to try. I was thoroughly impressed with her courage to explore new avenues.
And so it continued, each week taking a further tentative step along the pervy path. Most events were received with enthusiasm, a couple not so much, but overall her eagerness to continue the exploration was undiminished. We became more comfortable with each other, and I’m sure we both enjoyed the company of the other on a basic human level.
The New Year arrived on schedule. And so did an email from my new-found friend. She had met someone with a view to a LTR. I took my cue and exited gracefully, stage left. And if she is still reading, I genuinely wish the very best for her, the future beckons. But selfishly I carry a substantial degree of sadness that I will not see her again, or have the opportunity to share her journey into kink-dom.
Hey-Ho, not the best start to my year. But girls! It means I am back on the market and eager to deal with indiscretions as a dominant should.
So close and yet so distant
Just as the weather turns to our typical Autumnal gloom of dark evenings, and 24 hour drizzle punctuated by spells of bitter freezing and biting northerly winds, a message arrives.
“Hi Listy” It begins.
Now this is unusual, me receiving messages? I have way too much other stuff going on (a living to earn, this blog to update, fiction to write, a website to run, a forum to moderate, etc) to spend a whole lot of time making friends and aimlessly chatting, so it would be unreasonable to expect too many people to message me.
But there it is, an unread message from someone I have not been in contact with before.
“I read your ad. And your desperate comments too!
Hard to believe there is no willing subject in your area. Keep looking.
Best regards
Inyx”
Inyx, I think I love you. Not least because you can spell, and punctuate, and everything! And because you took a little time out to scatter some encouragement in my direction.
Here is a lesson for us all, if you happen across something good and worthwhile on the internet, just stop for one minute to applaud its author, because they will probably be more grateful than you will ever know.
Listy
The Start – Stop Relationship
Months of fruitless searching for a compatible playmate gets a person down. The early optimism, born of previous successes, evaporates in waves like the retreating tide. Self-confidence leaks away. Depression sets in. A soul begins to wonder what anyone ever saw in them in the past, whether they have morphed into something ugly and untouchable, and whether they will ever swim the erotically infested waters of kink and sensuality ever again.
Numerous fresh starts and adventures down previously unexplored avenues lead nowhere. Desperation forces one to try things that one knows to be futile, but anything is better than the loneliness of nothingness. Eventually resignation becomes the norm, and the energetic spark that is one’s closest and most attractive ally fades away. The seeker becomes just another lost face in the crowd.
And then from nowhere, the daily round of ‘logging in to check on profiles’ reveals a message! There it is, the red flashing symbol “You have One new message”. A double-check and it isn’t just a routine admin message, it is a person! Another seeker! The internal systems break free of the saturnine dusty layers and the heart-beat quickens. The message is brief, just an exploratory ‘Hey there’ to express a degree of interest without risking the embarrassment of rejection.
The reply tries to be warm and friendly, desperately trying not to reveal the desperation that is being felt so acutely. And an exchange begins, each attempting to elicit additional information from the other, and confirm the facts stated in the profiles. It is looking increasingly promising, with key facts like gender, preference, location and intent ticking the boxes.
Then silence. The previously rapid replies cease. Perhaps the last message didn’t get through? Send another one to be sure. Still nothing. A check of the sent messages reveals nothing untoward, no unwitting breach of etiquette, no horrendous faux pas.
Bollox!
Like an eagerly accepted phone number that never rings, just another false start in the life of the online seeker of kinky companionship.
Disciplining Rachel
Previously titled Rachel’s Schooldays, this tale moved on from the schoolroom scenario in which it was initially set and so the title was no longer appropriate. Apologies for any confusion.
The tale of a woman whose demand for erotic discipline turns into an education in submission. Her story begins in the bedroom but ends in the classroom, with ever-present school discipline and the threat of corporal punishment by hand, ruler, slipper, strap and cane never far away. And that is just Chapter One!
This work of fiction is born of a collaboration between two authors, one a female submissive, and the other a male dominant. Who authored what is left to the reader’s imagination – although if you try, you will probably get it wrong
It is published in sections, one episode at a time. To find all episodes, use the ‘Fiction’ Category ‘Rachel’s Schooldays’
Read on for Episode 1…
Disciplining Rachel – Ch1 – Episode 1
“This isn’t working.” He stopped but she could feel his palm hovering over her burning buttocks. From her prone position she looked back at him over her shoulder.
He met her eyes, “No, it’s not working.” And without warning her pushed her off his lap and she landed in a heap on the carpet.
“What the fuck did you do that for?” she gasped, rolling over and sitting up.
“I did it, my dear,” he said, leaning towards her and gripping her chin, “because this is just not effective. You enjoy it.” He regarded her severely. “I need to find something that is actually going to punish you. And before you say it, no, beating you harder isn’t the answer; you enjoy that even more.”
She shivered, what did he have in mind?
“What I need, is something you will actually hate doing, combined with a bloody good hiding.”
She shivered again. He considered her prone position and his hand slipped from her chin to a nipple and squeezed it firmly.
“On your feet, Rachel.”
She followed her nipple upwards as he guided her, first to her knees, and then upright. Her nipple surged as it was released, but she had no time to appreciate the sensation before he took a firm grasp of her left ear-lobe. Instinctively, just like when she was six, she rose on tip-toe and tilted her head in order to lessen the discomfort.
She meekly followed her ear as she was led towards the door, until her face was almost touching the wood. A loud spank echoed around the room as his right palm made full contact with her burning backside.
“Don’t you dare move!”
Rachel stood stock still, breathing in deeply through her nose. He had taken her completely unawares, this was new and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She opened her mouth and turned her head towards where he stood. Very swiftly she faced front again as she felt a sharp slap on her flank.
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear from you at the moment.” he barked.
Her face screwed up, “But Mark…” she began plaintively, until she felt his hand in her hair and her face being pressed forward until her nose touched the door.
“Shut up Rachel! This is exactly what is wrong. You have no fear of disobeying me, not even in the middle of what is supposed to be, punishment.” All the time her breath was misting the paintwork on the door. “You move when you’re told to stand still. You speak when you’re told to be quiet.” He removed his hand and stepped away from her. “Now this time if you move I will not answer for the consequences.”
Rachel quaked, she was not used to this tone of command. Usually she initiated the disciplinary side of their relationship and he indulged her. She had never known him take control like this and she wasn’t sure where it was going to lead. But she had felt her loins liquify at his words and for the moment did as she was told.
She wasn’t quite sure how long she stood there, very still and as meek as it was possible for her to be.
“What’s your favourite scene, Rachel?”
Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. Some of her bravado returning she replied, “You’ve forgotten already? I think you know it’s the school girl one!”
She could hear the smirk in his voice, “Oh no, I hadn’t forgotten. But we are going to be having a slightly different school girl session on Saturday, when I have time to deal with you properly. I’m going to be setting you some homework in advance.” She heard him settle in his chair, “Come here!” Came the terse command.
When she was standing demurely in front of him he ordered her to kneel at his feet. ‘This is new’ she thought, but she was still adjusting to this different Mark and decided to be biddable for the time being. She did not, however, like the look in his eye – there was a glint of pure devilment she’d never seen before.
“For homework,” he began, “you will learn the following, off by heart for Saturday, The Lady of Shallot, the dates of every king and queen from William the Conqueror to Elizabeth the Second, the periodic table and the 19 times tables.”
She simply stared, again he had disarmed her and she took her usual course by laughing. “You can’t be serious, Mark. I can’t and I won’t either, you’re being ridiculous.”
His face tightened. “Let me explain something Rachel, you will do this and you will do it willingly and gladly.” He leant forward and slipped a hand between her legs, he rested the pad of his thumb directly on her clitoris and pressed down, “Because if you don’t, then I am going to beat you until you really can’t sit down and won’t be able to do so for quite some time.”
He cocked his head at her questioningly, Rachel could feel a flood between her legs, her stomach clenched and she bowed her head. Somewhere from very deep inside her she felt the simple words formulate and she murmured, “Yes, Sir.”
“That’s better.” He retorted. “There are a few other things about Saturday you need to understand. You are having a whole school day, complete with uniform, break time, lessons and of course, punishments. I’m sure you’ll try very hard to learn your set texts but you need to be aware that any lapse, any infraction,” he looked at her very severely, “any disobedience at all will be severely punished. By the end of the day, you are going to be a very chastened, humbled little girl indeed.”
Rachel was squirming where she knelt, this little speech had left her more turned on than she thought was physically possible.
“Just to demonstrate that I mean business, Rachel, I have a special punishment for you, right now.” This was indeed a very different Mark. Gone was the usual soft-toned voice, and in its place was a hard, confident, authoritarian tone that made Rachel’s nipples rise to hardened points. “No, don’t look at me! Put your nose down to the carpet. And get that backside up!”
Rachel wriggled around on the floor, trying to appease the sharp smacks on her bottom and thighs as he manouvered her to his satisfaction, until finally she was positioned with her knees spread humiliatingly wide apart and her face acting as the third leg of a debauched tripod.
Without warning a sharp sting attacked the valley between her spread buttocks. Rachel yelped and pitched forward to lie flat on the floor, her legs clamping tightly together to protect her most private and sensitive area.
He forced her legs apart again with carefully directed smacks, “Naughty girl,” he chuckled evilly, “you no longer have that option.”
Yesterday, even thirty minutes before, she would have protested loudly about his behaviour but something very deep within her core was responding to this treatment and she stilled quiescently on the carpet. This seemed to please him as he told her to stand up.
“If I was you Rachel, I’d go online now and make sure you download all the information you need for Saturday. You can report to me on Friday evening, I’ll have your timetable and uniform ready for you.”
Rachel gulped visibly and Mark smiled languidly, he was quite enjoying this.
Mark’s hands rested lightly on her shoulders, slowly guiding her to face away from him. “Just one more thing, poppet,” he added, as the guiding hands pressed her shoulders in a downwards direction causing her to bend at the waist.
“Ohhh! What now?” Rachel was taken by suprise at the tone of her own voice, something between a whine and a wail.
“You know full well I don’t like to hear women cursing, and especially the ones I care about. You didn’t really expect to get away with using the ‘F’ word to my face, did you?” One hand pressed firmly downwards in the middle of Rachel’s back, the other unbuckled his belt and slipped it out of the loops.
Rachel heard the tell-tale tinkle of belt buckle just as she felt the anger surge within her. Sometimes he could be such an old-fashioned wuss! But the first lash of the belt across her taut backside persuaded her that this probably was not the time. “OWWWWWWWWWW!!” The exclamation turned into elongated howl of protest and her knees bent in reaction.
“Get that bottom up!”
Rachel complied immediately, and suffered five more overlaying lashes in rapid succession before she felt the pressure of Mark’s hand lift off her back. Her reaction was to rise and turn on him angrily, but by the time her flashing eyes found his face, his determined expression quelled her, and she closed her mouth again. Just for once, she actually felt chastened.
“Do you have anything to say, Rachel?” Mark observed her calmly, but one eyebrow arched slightly in expectation.
The two competing sides of Rachel’s brain collided, she had plenty she’d like to say to him but then there was plenty she wanted him to do to her as well, so she simply shook her head. In response, he nodded his, “Just as well,” he said “Now scoot.”
Later that evening in the study, Rachel finished downloading her homework. The 19 times tables wouldn’t give her much trouble, she could remember some of the periodic table anyway, the dates would be tricky but she thought she could manage. It was when she saw the length of The Lady of Shallot that she knew she was in trouble. It was hundreds of lines long and her bravado faded completely. Putting her head in her hands she moaned gently as she shifted on her welted backside. To her disgust she felt tears prickle behind her eyes. She was going to have to do the best she could and would have to take the consequences on Saturday for any failings. He was right, she hated this, it was punishment indeed.
Disciplining Rachel – Ch 2 – Episode 2
When he opened the bedroom door he knew immediately that she was awake even though she was facing away from him. He set the breakfast tray down and approached the bed. Pulling the quilt aside he pushed her onto her front so he could examine the marks he had left the night before. She offered no resistance which let him know she was still feeling chastised and meek.
“Come along, my girl,” he chided, “you know how to present yourself properly for morning inspection!” Mark watched intently as her back hollowed, causing her buttocks to levitate and slowly separate. The dark pink stripes which still adorned it moved too, reforming into the same neatly parallel lines that were applied during last night’s finale.
Rachel let out a soft moan as he reached out to cup and grasp each cheek in turn, softly manipulating the flesh and lightly spanking, just because it amused him.
“I’ve been thinking…” Mark began, but was immediately interrupted.
“I bet you have, you horny old goat!” Rachel waggled her bottom at him. “You’re always frisky in the mornings.”
Mark chuckled and landed a meaty swat full across the tempting target. “No minx, not about that! Although…” His hand delved deeper into the mysterious valley between her cheeks.
“Mmmm….. About what then?”
“I have leave to take before year end, and I think you have a couple of weeks outstanding too?” Mark continued his explorations, encouraged by Rachel’s sensuously gyrating bottom.
“Yeah, but who said I want to spend them with you?” Rachel teased, earning herself another meaty wallop.
Mark smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I think we should go away somewhere. Somewhere special.”
Rachel rolled over, looking excited…
“Go and fetch the breakfast.” he commanded and obediently Rachel complied. When she was settled again under the quilt he fed her buttered croissants and made her lick the crumbs from his fingers. She could taste herself on him. She began to nibble on his body as he ate his own breakfast. When they were both fed and sated he returned to the subject of their trip.
“So where would you like to go, Miss?”
Rachel was lying in the crook of his arm and looked up at him. “Somewhere warm.” she replied.
“My sentiments exactly. You’ve never been to the Caribbean, have you?”
Her eyes lit up, “Hmm….that sounds wonderful, whereabouts, which island?”
He ran his hand over her stomach, “A,B or C, take your pick.”
She looked at him curiously and didn’t have a clue what he meant, but she was getting used to that. “A.”
“Aruba it is then. We can have a look online later and get something booked.”
Rachel smiled at him, perfectly content lying in the warmth of his body. Suddenly he flipped her onto her back and straddled her, dipping his head, he sucked briefly on her left nipple and then kissed her deeply. She responded automatically by lifting her hips but he held her still with his hands.
“Now Miss, I think it’s about time we had a little chat about the past couple of weeks, don’t you?” Rachel visibly shrank in size before his eyes.
Inside herself the war was raging, she wanted to talk about it, to try to tease out how she felt, but he made her become a small helpless girl and she was scared she wouldn’t be able to articulate the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on since her ‘school day’. But at the same time, his tone of command liquified her insides and she knew they ‘would’ be having this conversation whether she wanted to or not.
Her stomach contracted with fear and lust as she murmured the words that seemed to have become second nature to her, “Yes Sir.”
He extricated himself from her and then lay down, holding out his arms and pulling her to him. Cradling her against his chest he said, “No, it’s okay, you don’t need to use that term of address now, this is a conversation between equals.”
She smiled up at him and snuggled in closer, relaxing immediately. When they were lying in close proximity they looked into each others eyes and simultaneously started to laugh.
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