Strictly come auntie

I had a new slave the other day who wanted to be punished by his firm and strict aunt.  Well he got more than he bargained for – not one, but two disciplinarians. Mistress Lash and I played the part we love so well – the stern schoolmarm auntie.  We dressed in tight skirts and crisp white blouse – high heels, stockings and hair tied back into a formal bun completed the picture. When the wretch reported to us – he was   quivering (with fear or excitement? probably both. We ordered him to tell us what he had done – the usual misdemeanors – being late, insolent and having a slovenly appearance. Auntie Lash firmly ordered him to strip down for inspection which I duly did with my cane. We were not pleased with the stage of his dirty cock and told him that severe punishment was all he deserved. He was told to put his naked butt over first the knee of Auntie Lash and then Auntie Paris. Each of us doled out a strong rhythmic spanking making his arse cheeks as red as a stop light. He sobbed and begged forgiveness but as you know, this music to our ears. Talking of ears: Lash took him be the ears like the spoilt child he was and gave them a  good boxing. Then we bent him over a chair and administered at least 24 biting strokes of the cane. We ordered the boy to wipe his tears and get dressed. He kept saying how sorry he had been and wouldn’t do this or that again. Of course we didn’t beleive him and gave him six more strokes as a deposit for next time – which will surely come.

 

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5 responses to “Strictly come auntie

  1. You and Mistress Lash had a fulfilling time. For me, though, the highest pleasure (and deepest pain and fear) require helplessness. That is much more important than humiliation.

    So in my imagination the two of you would restrain me. Perhaps suspended from the ceiling – Or maybe tied down to a board (ankles, wrists, and neck, with back hollowed and buttocks straining back and up).

    Then comes the infliction of pain – deliciously slowly. The lovely sadistic sigh of the cane. The cool whirr of the whip. That tell-tale t-h-i-c-k of the rattan on my helpless unprotected flesh. Sometimes fast – usually it’s good to start with a quick six, to establish a good reservoir of pain on which to build at your leisure. It would also be important to establish discipline around my response to the strokes. I have a low pain threshold and sensitive skin, so it is very difficult to remain quiet. Indeed it would be unusual for me to reach six without crying out and imploring mercy.

    There are all sorts of responses you might make to this. One would be to repeat any stroke that I do not endure in complete silence. Another would be to insert a gag. The first is the more difficult. From my point of view, the possibility of the travail never coming to an end unless I can keep quiet is both dreadful and keenly exciting.

    There are all sorts of embroideries. Expressing gratitude for each stroke – with penalties if the thanks are insufficiently sincere. Asking for the next one. Maybe insisting that I ask for it to be delivered harder.

    You make no mention of strap-on play. I love this, and if I were crouching on the board, it could be administered wihout difficulty. A ribbed dildo really hurts.

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