Punishment - don't create a moral hazard!

"I like to wait until at least 60
before I whip you. That
way's more fun."

"Hmm," I say. "That's 30 demerits. They're rather mounting up." I'm writing lots of Femdom porn at the moment, and desperate for a dose of the real thing. (It doesn't help that I'm still stuck with my chastity regime, and unable to masturbate after writing even the hottest scenes.)

"That's OK," says Xena brightly. "I like to wait until at least 60 before I whip you. That way's more fun."

The way she says it, not hamming it up, not being all porno-domme, makes me hard inside my Holy Trainer 2 chastity device.

I'm still hard as I kneel in the corner waiting for lights out, and later, lying next to her.

But in the morning I don't quite feel the visceral fear of the lash.

You see, on the one hand, I do flinch from the prospect of being hit. A few demerits genuinely makes me squirm.

On the other hand, I live for those moments where Xena really does step into her mistress role.

So now, being slapdash, leaving tasks undone... that's a way of bringing on another Femdom session. Worse, the question is now not How many lashes? but merely When?

That night I explain this to her as I rub her feet, not in terms of her spoiling my Femdom experience, but just how it undermines the system.

"I know. It's just this once," she says and goes back to her book.

I'm sure it wasn't just this once, but I don't argue. I don't need to be right, just enslaved...

---

Don't resign yourself to just getting off on other people's adventures! When we started out, my wife was vanilla. Use my manuals to help you walk the same Femdom path! There's one for him, and one for her. 

Lifestyle Relationships: How to turn funishment into real punishment

 Over on Locked Men, a friend messaged me:

So you are in FLR, me too. But my problem is that my gf only spanks me for sexual pleasure and I want her to punish me too when I have been bad or done something stupid. Just a hard spanking so I can´t sit down for a few days and remember not to be bad again.... I want it to be punishment only, nothing I will like or want again. How to do?

His lady, it seems is quite happy to be in charge -- in another pm he told me that she already liked Femdom and FLR when they met -- but that spankings are only ever erotic, and he wants to live under discipline.

Our demerit counter!

The simplest answer is to just ask. 

However, he may get an immediate "No!", not because she is averse to punishing him, but because maintaining this kind of discipline is a nuisance.

Either she has to drop what she's doing and punish him -- annoying or impractical if she was busy doing something else and not in a Femdom headspace -- or else she has to remember that he did something wrong, which will just add to her irritation.

So rather than just ask for discipline, my friend would be better to suggest a specific discipline scheme. 

The one that works for us is to have a demerit counter; a clicker counter easily purchased off Amazon. Whenever I annoy Xena, she gives me a demerit. It's usually my responsibility to add it to the counter. The matter is then forgotten until it's punishment time. 

The demerits then have their own logic, and it's much easier for her to blame me for what she's doing to me. This is much better than her having to think back through one or more weeks and decide how good or bad I have been.

(Assuming he's not a physical masochist, he also needs to explain to her that although it excites him to live under the threat of a spanking, a serious spanking is something he's actually scared of, and that she won't be merely rewarding him for bad behavior. He should also encourage her to hit him hard enough to make him flinch. Possibly she needs to use an implement in order to save her hand.

Why punishment that we find sexy works to modify our behavior is another story.)

EDIT: Oh interesting. I got downvoted on Reddit AGAIN. If you do like this little article, please express your approval accordingly.

---

Don't resign yourself to just getting off on other people's adventures! When we started out, my wife was vanilla. Use my manuals to help you walk the same Femdom path! There's one for him, and one for her. 

Second Sabbatical in Slave Land: It's real! - A nasty whipping from a suddenly sadistic wife

"I'll bring my Christmas boots."

"I'll bring my Christmas boots," said Xena, meaning the knee-length ones she picked up in the Christmas sales, the ones that give me a hard on just contemplating.

We were planning our romantic weekend, and that was her way of telling me that it would be a Femdom one. I wasn't complaining.

Now weeks later, I'm kneeling with my arms stretched out and pinned to the high foot of bed in our holiday cottage. If I strain my ears, I can hear the sea and the wind, and the rain on the windowpane. Mostly, though, I can hear my own pulse.

We already had a finale for our one-week Femdom sabbatical. I had forty or so demerits, which Xena administered in blocks of ten. She was tired and more amused than turned on. It also amused her to give me a chance to get off by pegging myself, and then announcing that that was it until the next weekend.

"...it was a kind of sea change with her
sadistic side emerging into the light."
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

Looking back, it was a kind of sea change with her sadistic side emerging into the light. However it wasn't really a peak experience for either of us.

Now, on my 28th day of denial, I wanted this time to be different. I'd racked up a few demerits over the previous week, and then, with Xena's agreement, added one for each upwards fluctuation in my weight (I am on a diet). That took me to 40 demerits.

Earlier, as I rubbed her feet I asked permission to make a suggestion and then said, "It occurred to me that whippings are only really interesting to you when I'm outside my limits."

"It's all the same to me," she said offhandedly, still not rushing to hold her sadism up to the light.

"Fair enough," I said, "But how about you give them all to me at one go, anyway?"

"OK," she said and went back to her book.

Now, an hour later, she sweeps into the room in a feminine skirt, knee-length boots clopping on the thin carpet.

I mewl and lick my lips.

"Don't do that. It's disgusting," she says. Then she raises her hem, exposing first the warm thigh length socks and then her neatly trimmed bush - no underwear tonight.

It would be enough that she looks delicious. However it's even more amazing that she's actually visually teasing me. My vulnerable chaste state has given her back her sexual aggression. Groaning, I lose control of my Kegel muscles which twitch wildly, making my penis inflate painfully inside its cage.

Xena strides over to the bed, picks up the dressage whip I bought years ago, and then beats the hell out of me.

It hurt.
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

Thinking about it as I type this turns me on. And the prospect of it gave an edge to the preceding week. However it was not an erotic experience right then.

It hurt.

Really hurt.

I strained against the bonds, whimpered, almost wept, and it still hurt.

All the while she gave a running commentary in a playful mocking voice. "That's ten. Just think. only thirty more... Oh I lost count. Start again... tee-he..."

Finally Xena stopped, flopped on the bed so I could admire her boots, then finally released me. She had me take off the boots off, alas, but then got under the covers and had me go down on her.

This was the first time I'd got to serve her orally after a proper beating, and I burrowed under the covers with glee.

She was already hot and wet. Beating me, I realized with a dark thrill, had turned her on.

Later as I stroke her hair and she teases me about how many days I must to wait before an orgasm, I say, "Just so you know, that whipping was wasn't remotely erotic. I really wanted it to end..."

Xena interrupts with a laugh. "I know."

"...but nothing on earth would have made me ask you to stop," I complete.

That was four days ago, and I still haven't been
permitted an orgasm.
Find out how to get some of this in your life!

"And if you had asked, I still wouldn't have stopped," says Xena sweetly, and I know instantly that she means it.

"Oh Christ," I say. "This is real! You never were any good at role play."

She tilts her chin. "Of course it's real! How else did you want me to approach this? Are you complaining?"

"No, no," I say. "I'm just outside my comfort zone. I've always tried to keep this limited. But you're an all or nothing person... I guess I'm trapped by my own fetish..."

"You are, aren't you?" she says with a note of glee.

I squirm, hard again inside my chastity device.

That was four days ago, and I still haven't been permitted an orgasm.

---

Don't resign yourself to just getting off on other people's adventures! When we started out, my wife was vanilla. Use my manuals to help you walk the same Femdom path! There's one for him, and one for her. 

Second Sabbatical In Slave Land: Lunchtime Demerits, Blurring Lines and Back Doors

Around lunchtime, I'm working away at an application for a contract job (I'm "on the bench" at the moment) when the doorbell rings.

...she sits at the kitchen table and talks a little distractedly
about work.... she's emphatically not in any kind of
erotic mode

Xena sweeps into the hall, every bit my high-powered executive wife. "I forgot my laptop... make me a cup of tea... I'll have my sandwich in the kitchen."

She sits at the kitchen table and talks a little distractedly about work; I just happen to be present at a busy lunch with herself. She's emphatically not in any kind of erotic mode.

I've learned the hard way never to try to blur the lines. Even when we were courting, an attempt to snog in these circumstances would have been met with an irritable brush off.

However... I notice that Xena is cheerfully giving orders and taking it for granted that I will run around after her. She also listens to my "interim report" like a boss - I've bought this for dinner, plan to do that task.

"What did you want me to do today?" I ask innocently. "Declutter that drawer then do the lounge, was it?"

She looks around the kitchen and frowns. "Did you dust the walls?"

"Yes..."

It's rather more than I can imagine enjoying.

"What's that?" She points an accusing hand. There's a big strand of cobweb hanging from the ceiling.

"Oh. I missed that," I say. Then perfectly natural; "I think that's a demerit."

"I should think so!" she says. "And one more demerit for not having the bed made."

I produce the clicker and solemnly add two more to the count. "Thirty five," I say, ruefully. It's rather more than I can imagine enjoying, and I still wince when I think of the last time Xena gave me a whipping.

"That's mounting up. You'll have to schedule time for it."

"Yes I will," she says with a malicious smile, kisses me, and heads out to work.

And that is the glory of a demerit counter. It's not overtly sexual or erotic. It doesn't drip with sticky fingered fetish. It doesn't violate her practical  matter-of-fact mood. And yet it's a back door into Femdom.

And my god as I type this, I am hard in my chastity cage.

Let my books help you introduce some Female Centered Femdom to your relationship

Sabbatical in Slave Land: Finale - A Damn Good Whipping (and not 'Funishment') Part 3

(Start)
"Hmmm," muses Xena. "Which whip?"

I frantically pump my muscles, trying to summon up a protective hardness in my chastity cage.

Years ago, Xena gave me a gloriously vicious whipping that had me close to tears.

It's her. She's not wearing anything special,
not pretending, just beating me.

We'd been together a few months, and in that sexperimentation stage, and I was being slave to her mistress. I think I was on my knees, wrists chained to ankles, and she beat me with that angry look of hers. But I spoiled it by doing that whole "communicate communicate" thing, by trying to turn her from a novice sadist to a service top.

Now here we are again, years of marriage later. Xena has a whip in her hand, fire in her eyes. It's her. She's not wearing anything special, not pretending, just beating me.

For my benefit or hers?

"Let's see what this one does..."

WHACK! Pain sears my shoulders. "One."

It's the solid riding whip, really just a nylon cane.

WHACK! "Two...!"

I jerk and writhe against my bonds. I've stop worrying about whether she'll follow through, or what's in her mind. I'm in the now, and I want it to stop.

"Five!" She stops. "Let's see what this one does."

The sensation fades and I want it back. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her pick up the Fred Norman flogger. Damn. It's a wonderful piece of workmanship, but it's wide soft leather makes for erotic impact, not pain.

Xena starts counting out the blows, and the sensation is... pleasant. She gets to ten then announces, "This is tiring." She puts aside the flogger and leaves me alone in the room.

I kneel there feeling disappointed, worrying about the whether, not the what. When she returns an age later and picks up the flogger again, I hiss, "That one doesn't do anything. It's just pleasant."

 Suddenly she's swinging the thing
like a tennis pro. 

"Really?" She flies into a rage. Simulated? Irritation behind pretend anger, then blending it? I don't know. It feels real. Suddenly she's swinging the thing like a tennis pro. "Does this hurt!" WHUMP! "Or this?"WHUMP!

I don't even writhe. I just kneel their moaning, wishing the pain would stop, yet unable to even contemplate unclipping my bonds. That loss of power, sense of being owned - it's satisfying in ways that are impossible to describe.

Xena stops. "Well?"

"Jesus that hurt!"

She laughs. "Too bad. Since you complained, none of these counted. We'll start again when I get back."

And that's how the next hour goes. Random breaks and angry whippings.

At last, she takes her break by getting into bed - remember, I'm chained across the foot of our kingsize. She starts to read, utterly ignoring me while I kneel there throbbing from head to toe.

Great, I'll get to go down on her.

But I hear this moist scratching sound, and the pages turn faster and Xena gives a little sigh. Sated, Xena gets up, gives me a final beating then tells me to clean up.

Soon we're tucked up in bed. She's asleep and I'm lying there, still locked in my chastity cage. My life is a success.

* * *

So, nearly a month later, I still don't know what happened that night. Was it for me? Or her? Did she pretend to herself she was doing me a favor, then get lost in it. I haven't asked.

I do know that next time, I shall approach my whipping with considerable fear, and so I am content.

If you'd like to experience something similar, take a look at my Femdom self-help guides....

Sabbatical in Slave Land: Finale - A Damn Good Whipping (and not 'Funishment') Part 2

...will Xena follow through
with gusto...?

So, I'm due at least 28 lashes, but will Xena follow through with gusto, or will it be a lack-luster perfunctory couple of flicks with the flogger? Or is my Vanilla wife too irritated to beat me?

I dither over whether the preparations I have in mind will make things better or worse. Then I realize she's in the mood to do this properly, or she's not.

I'll take the chance and go for the full fantasy.

I unpack the restraints and attach them to the foot of the bed. They're cheap Velcro webbing off Amazon but they have a massive advantage: no work for Xena - I can get in and out of them with ease, as long as I'm not distracted by, perhaps - I don't know... - somebody hitting me with a whip.

I've added a bit of chain and a luggage strap belt so that they keep me kneeling bent across the foot of the bed.

Now I won't have to use willpower to stay still for the beating. I'll be able to let go and writhe, and Xena may enjoy my helplessness and feel... empowered by it.

...tweaks an old
fantasy...

I put on an iron collar. I'm more excited by chastity belts these days. However it tweaks an old fantasy and distinguishes between me in low-key submission mode, and me as a prisoner awaiting punishment.

There's a chance it will put Xena in the right mood. (It will also protect the back of my neck from collateral damage - Xena isn't noted for her accuracy with any kind of whip.)

I remove my wedding ring and put it somewhere safe. This is not  a moment for any kind of tenderness. (Did she notice? I don't know.)

...knotted leather thongs that hurt like hailstones...

I lay out the whips. There are four of them; a short riding whip that smarts, a long dressage whip that stings like hell, a nasty home-made scourge with knotted leather thongs that hurt like hailstones... and a wonderfully crafted Fred Norman flogger.

I hesitate over the Fred Norman because it doesn't make me flinch; it's more erotic than painful. However, I'm a little unfocused in my thinking and have a vague idea Xena might use it towards the end when I am too tender for the other implements.

The demerit counter goes next to the whips. This has been a great way to let Xena hand out punishment in situations when she doesn't want to think about whips and chains. (But will she follow through....?)

Finally, the butt plug. Yes, something totally for me, and not in the spirit of punishment. However, I'm really keen to introduce it to our menu, and I know the idea intrigues and amuses her. She can always order me to it out. Ironically, as soon as I slide it in, I go limp inside my chastity cage!

I'm running out of time, so I put on the restraints and clip myself into position, waiting for my whipping. Theme music drifts over from the den. Xena's program is over. Now I'm frantically clenching and unclenching my muscles, trying to muster up the protective hardness. Nothing! Now I am scared of the beating.

More theme music - she's watching another episode. My feelings orbit between outraged and cross, to helpless and turned on--

It's her!  Not a role, or a
character she's taken on.
She really is angry..!

--until my shoulders begin to hurt. The restraints are adjustable so, panicking in case she comes in, I unclip my wrists and reattach them with the chain less taut. It's better but the the discomfort soon returns. I can only wriggle up onto the bed, and listen tensely for footfalls on the landing.

An eternity later, I hear Xena's coming towards the bedroom door. I slide back onto my knees just as it opens and she sweeps in. She's wearing a comfy T-shirt dress and sports leggings; nothing fetishistic or even elegant, though it does let me admire her curves.

Xena  glances at me, shows no surprise or particular emotion, and pads around to where I laid out the whips.

I crane my neck to see.

Xena has the demerit counter. "Twenty eight demerits, Giles! How did you earn that many?"

"I'm very irritating, mistress," I say, which is the truth.

Xena's eyes blaze.

I feel a wave or relief, followed by a delicious panic.

It's her!

Not a role, or a character she's taken on. She really is angry, and that anger is trapped inside our mistress-slave relationship. It has nowhere to go except into me!

"Yes you are, Giles," she says, and picks up the riding whip.

Oh shit, I think, straining against my bonds. She is going to follow through.

If you'd like to experience something similar, take a look at my Femdom self-help guides....

 Part 2

Sabbatical in Slave Land: Finale - A Damn Good Whipping (and not 'Funishment') Part 1.

My wife is the World's Worst Service Top.

My wife is the World's
Worst Service Top

This doesn't normally matter, but on Thursday evening I'm approaching my well-deserved beating and feeling anxious - not about my 28 demerits, but about whether or not Xena will follow through.

Agony! This is the end of our longest Femdom Sabbatical, and I am terrified of disappointment.

Past experience hasn't exactly been inspiring. Typically she'll sit up in bed while I kneel on the floor. "Have you been a naughty slave? (Whack! Thwack!). OK that will do."

It's my fault. I've always treated corporal punishment as "funishment" - something that looks as if it fits the Mistress-Slave relationship, but is actually an erotic kick for me.

Xena simply isn't into funishment. She's fine at being in charge, fine at normal equality, but utterly rubbish at "sort of being in charge but not". She'll give it a go, but quickly gets bored. She's also emphatically not interested in messing around with ropes and bondage gear - if she is in charge, then everything has to be for her convenience.

I'm not interested in funishment either.

I want to be a slave. I want - need - the beating to be there in my slave world. I want to anticipate it with delicious fear, and look back on it with awe. This is simply not possible if I actually enjoy the experience.

Being whipped is a
scary prospect

Being whipped is a scary prospect. In the past, before I got into rough and extreme sports, I assumed that real punishment would, by definition, be too painful and damaging. Better to play out the fantasy rather than live it. The online world of BDSM seemed confirm this. There are doms who - quite rightly - treat whippings and spankings as a reward, to be withheld as punishment!

But.

Most of  BDSM is about liking what we don't want, enjoying what we don't like. There is no summation of urges and feelings, only competing chunks of grey matter with their own sets of brain chemicals. Why else people who get off on humiliation, or - like me - enjoy male chastity?

Meanwhile, historically, some people have embraced lives under discipline. The Medieval Rule of St Benedict - for monks -includes a good serving of corporal punishment:

but such as are not upright and are hard of heart, proud, and disobedient, let him chastise at the very first offense with stripes or other corporal punishments, knowing that it is written: "The fool is not corrected with words."

So I think it's entirely legitimate to want to have a Mistress-Slave relationship where real punishment takes place.

How do I know it's real? If I fear it, work hard to avoid it, if it makes me flinch, if I want it to stop, then it's punishment... even if the idea of it turns me on. In other words, if it helps Xena get what she wants, then it's punishment.

(A quick aside. Yes, there are arguably better and more modern ways of correcting a person's behavior than flogging them until they squirm. However, part of the cost of having a slave is that Xena is limited in what tools she can apply.)

Authenticity is the main
compensation for relinquishing specific fantasies

Communication is overrated. In the BDSM community, prospective partners must negotiate and establish expectations. However, those of us who are settled down with vanilla dominatrixes can only take what we can get. Authenticity is the main compensation for relinquishing specific fantasies. Over-communication can feel like topping from the bottom, and is more likely to destroy the Femdom rather than enhance it.

In this case, however, I needed to reverse the damage I'd done over the past decade or so. Earlier that week when we went to dinner, Xena got me talking about what I'd learned as her "compliant husband." I made sure I described the place of punishment in my mental eco system: my way of dealing with open ended guilt - retribution, catharsis, redemption.

Now tonight we're discussing plans for the evening. I mention there are outstanding demerits.

Xena scowls, irritated. "I know that, Giles! Right now I'm tired, I want to watch TV."
"Yes," I say. "Let me shower and set things up. You come through when you feel like it."
"Hmmm. OK."
I can't help it, I push; "May I give you some technical advice on the beating."
Xena sighs. "If you must. You're making me cross now."
"It's OK to be cross," I say. "It's not supposed to be erotic or pleasant. Hurt me. Be angry. Make me flinch."
Now Xena is cross. "You already told me that, Giles!"
I hold up my hands in a placating gesture. "You tend to forget things, though."
She laughs. "OK Now go away."

So I scurry off and get through the shower. Then I contemplate the bondage gear I'm planning to use. This is my one chance for a really good beating, but if I go too far, she might throw up her hands and call the whole thing off.

What should I do...?

While you're waiting to find out happened next, take a look at my Femdom self-help books for couples where the female partner is "vanilla".

EDIT: Part two is here.