The Twelve Days of Christmas (My Version)

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…

With a Domme (and a sub) who loves numbers, Christmas and various versions of that song how else could we celebrate Christmas but with a little game.

And so, on Christmas Day there was one stroke from the black cane for my submissive.

The next day my Boy was again ordered to lie down on the bed and present his bottom for two strokes from the butter hand (ridged side down) and, of course, one from the thin black cane.

I’ll spare you the elaborate version of this tale to reveal that on the twelfth day there was :

Remember Me

It was simple enough. My car was at the garage so I had asked Mat to drop me off at work. It was a little out of his way but he could drop me off, head off himself and return to pick me up without too much disruption to his day.

As my work day ended I began to pack up my things slowly. I didn’t rush, I knew Mat might be delayed. Still, he might also have been waiting until he knew I had finished my work. I texted him.

“I’m ready when you are” – no worries.
“For ? ? ?” – the reply was surprisingly quick.
“For you to pick me up” – had he forgotten me?
“I’ll be there in a few minutes” – yes it seemed he had…

When I got him alone later my aim was clear. I wanted to make sure he remembered this. With him lying naked face down on the bed I was going to whip him. I started with a soft belt and my hand. Gently at first, there was no rush.

“Do you remember me”? I asked him.

His response was as cheeky as I expected, goading me deliberately. Did he not think I would hit him hard enough? I intended this to be memorable.

I continued spanking him then moved on to the long crop to whip him in earnest until he assured me that he did remember me.

“Let’s try another memory test” I suggested “can you remember your safe word”?

The strokes fell thick and fast now. He began to squirm. Twisting his body to get away. I put my hand on the small of his back and continued. His guesses were as random as might be expected but I didn’t need to let up now. He could stop me if he wanted to, all he had to do was remember.

Finally, with perfect timing and subtle grace he showed me that he remembered. One phrase, one happy and satisfied Domme and one very sore bottom.
I checked by having him sit down for a moment on his scratchy mat, his face twisted in pain said it all. Yes, that would give him something to remember me by for a little while.

I wonder if he’ll forget to pick me up again?

Parent’s Evening

I decided to enter a story writing competition. Stories had to be school themed erotica but had, according to the rules, to not contain any ‘illegal acts’. Well I’m not sure what jurisdiction they were considering and I’m not a lawyer but here’s the story I wrote.

Pete’s daughter Sarah had come home from school with a letter. With a deep sigh he read it carefully, parent’s evening had come round again. It wasn’t called parents evening of course; instead the letter explained how it was about having a one to one with your child’s form teacher, getting to know how your child was getting on and discussing the work being done that term. Ever a dutiful parent, he filled in the form requesting an appointment and slipped it back into his daughter’s book bag. Continue reading “Parent’s Evening”

A Home Visit

Started in: New Boy At School
Continued from: Coffee With A Colleague

Paul and Emily parted company in the staff car park, by an almost unspoken agreement coffee was postponed. Paul wondered if it was actually cancelled, after what she had seen, he blushed at the memory, he was sure she wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him again.

Paul went home, he took a long, steamy shower and got into comfy clothes. He lounged on the sofa and replayed the scene in the headmistress’ office. The whipping, being forced to make himself come in front of both her and Emily. He shuddered with shame but his trousers were tented with an opinion of their own. Continue reading “A Home Visit”

Being Submissive

My submissive side has been largely internal recently. Perrin and I have continued to struggle to give our D/s expression. I realised recently that I needed to make a deliberate attempt to express my submission even if I don’t always feel it as fully as I would like.

Rather than waiting for Perrin to express his dominance and then fighting it because I’m not expecting it; I needed to offer my submission to him in a way that was not demanding and be patient. As a simple step I decided to make an effort to call Perrin ‘Sir’ occasionally to remind us both that I am his girl still.

We had gone out for the evening, a social event but a formal one. One where the ladies were served before the gentlemen and wine glasses were topped up without asking. In a slightly alcoholic haze therefore, we made our way out into the night, my arm in his, happily together. I know I called him ‘Sir’, in a moment of conversation, then suddenly for no real reason he was threatening to spank me on the tube train. His eyes alight with the image, mine with the delight of seeing my Dom, in that moment I would happily have let him do so if he had insisted.

Waking up with him at the weekend, I reached for my Dom and asked for that spanking.
I lay on my front on the bed and Perrin began spanking me. Once he settled into a nice slow gentle rhythm I lay still concentrating on the sensation. His hand forced my thighs apart. I struggled to cope as his fingers began working against my clit the added sensation a difficult distraction. Eventually though I relaxed back into the rhythm. Suddenly I realised how turned on I was. My hips tightened as his fingers moved, his other hand spanking in a steady rhythm. I wanted more, and more. I cried out as orgasm struck and waves of pleasure washed over me. Immediately followed by pain, as the soreness in my bottom came into sudden relief.
He turned me over then. His cock entering me swiftly. I spread my legs and threw back my head and let him take his girl, lost in the pleasure of being his.
When he came inside me, I lay breathless, happy, satisfied and submissive.

Thank you, Sir.

New Boy At School

Paul was both nervous and excited when he woke up. Never had the mere process of getting up, washing and getting dressed seemed so important. He looked at himself in the mirror as he brushed his short dark hair, he thought he looked smart enough for his first day. Still his hands were shaking as he tied his new tie. He was still nervous as he left the house.

When he arrived at school he was escorted to Miss Thompson, the headmistress’ office.
She was in her late fifties, a tall but solidly curl woman with permed grey hair and slightly old-fashioned glasses. She looked at him seriously over her spectacles.

“Paul, I’m delighted to see you are here punctually, I have great hopes that you will fit in well in our school. Now off you go to your classroom.”

Paul breathed a sigh of relief and leaving the office walked down the corridor towards the classrooms. He looked carefully at each door he passed until reading the name on one door he pushed it open and entered the classroom.

“Good morning class” he said brightly “I am Mr Evans, your new teacher”. Continue reading “New Boy At School”

Taken For A Haircut

Rowena had decided, her boy needed a haircut. She was going to make sure it was done properly too. They entered the hairdresser’s together. Matthew’s hand in hers.

The salon was nearly empty. In the chair nearest the door a young man was having his hair cut by a petite blonde girl. It was the taller brunette who had been lounging by the counter who came over to them.

“How can I help you Sir” she asked?
Rowena replied for him, “He needs a hair cut. Tidy him up please and don’t let him give you any trouble.”
“Certainly” the girl’s eyes sparkled, “would you like a coffee?” she asked her.

Matthew was sat down in a chair and draped in a coverall. Rowena took a seat nearby where she could watch the proceedings in comfort. She accepted her coffee with a smile and sat back to enjoy it.
The hairdresser began running her fingers appraisingly through Matthew’s hair. He wriggled in his chair slightly, enjoying the attention.

Turning to Rowena the stylist made a couple of suggestions and Rowena nodded her approval.

As the hairdresser turned away to gather her tools Matthew’s hands sneaked out from under the coverall and he began reaching for something on the counter in front of him.
“Leave it alone” the hairdresser caught him as she turned back. His fingers dropped, a guilty expression on his face, a child caught stealing sweeties.
The hairdresser placed her hand on his head as she began to cut his hair.

The other haircut was complete and as the blonde stylist moved across the salon to complete the transaction Matthew’s head turned to follow her.
“Sit still please” the hairdresser was insistent but polite.
Rowena put down her coffee and crossed the salon. She whispered something quietly to the girl and smiling returned to her vantage point.

The other customer had left now and the blonde girl returned to her station and began tidying up. Matthew’s head turned once more.

“Enough” the brunette’s eyes looked sternly at him. “You need to learn to sit still”. Taking Matthew’s arm she pulled him to his feet. Before he knew what was happening he was leaning forwards, nose pressed against the mirror, her hand on the small of his back. Picking up a hair brush she began applying it firmly to his bottom.

“Ow”, Matthew protested.
After delivering half a dozen firm strokes she turned to look at Rowena who was watching calmly.
“Carry on” she told her, “he needs to be taught a lesson”.
The hairdresser simply yanked down his trousers and boxer shorts and laid into him with the brush again. Matthew could do nothing but yelp weakly, gazing too closely at his own reflection.

The blonde girl came across to join them.
“My turn” she demanded.
He was turned round now, with his trousers still around his ankles, forced to bend over the chair he had so recently been sitting in. The blonde girl started to spank him, in this instance with her bare hand, until Matthew’s bottom was glowing a rosy red.

Her hand obviously sore, she ceased her discipline and disappeared into the back of the shop. Meanwhile her colleague was reapplying the hairbrush with enthusiasm. Matthew softly whimpered with each stroke.

Suddenly the brunette paused to look up.
“Oh, yes my dear” Rowena’s voice carried across the room full of amusement and approval. Matthew twisted under his tormentor’s hands but could not see what she was looking at.

Suddenly he felt something pressing against his ass. Firm, unyielding and invading.
“No. No you mustn’t” he objected but no one was listening to him.
The blonde girl slid her lunchtime banana slowly into his ass and began to fuck him with it. Matthew continued to protest but his hips were already tilting as he pushed back against it.

“Wank yourself. Make yourself cum” Rowena had come over to watch the show and her voice whispered insistently in his ear. Obediently he took hold of his cock and began wanking it. As he was fucked his motions grew faster until with a little gasp he cried out, shooting cum all over the seat beneath him.

He trembled there for a moment as the banana was finally withdrawn. Then, with a smile, the hairdresser turned him round once more and pushed him down to sit in the chair; his bare bottom against the rapidly cooling sticky patch he had just made.
“Now, let’s finish cutting your hair”.