Friday, 25 April 2008


Dear Readers, I will be away on holiday, next week. I will read comments and even reply but I will, most likely, not have time for any blogging. I will be back, however, the week after. Hopefully I will have time to write during my holiday so this may result in some new scribblings.

I will leave for holiday and wave a bye for now with a short story I wrote the other day. This one is quite unusual for me. In fact, I don't think I ever have written anything like it. I got the inspiration for this story from a very dear friend of mine. So, Mina, this one is for you.

She was not the first woman he had bedded, far from it. He was quite confident in that department. He knew he could charm most women and he knew he was handsome enough to not scare anyone away. No, she wasn't the first and in many ways there was nothing special about her.

Still he felt his heart beat in his chest and he was nervous and anxious as a school-boy as he stood outside her door ringing the door-bell.

She admitted him and soon they found themselves in her living room. It seemed natural that they should stand like this facing each other.

She was dressed in a black, knee long dress with wide skirt. The neck was wide but by no means plunging. On the whole it was a quite conservative dress. She wore a bright red sash tied around her waist and a similarly red ribbon held back her hair, her jet black bob that neatly framed her little face.

She was a small woman, slim and slender and not very tall. Her face was almost a little childish with a short nose and a small and delicate mouth. Her face may have been childlike but her eyes were something different. They were older, wiser and sharp as steel and bright as the stars. He loved those eyes. He feared those eyes.

'So you came!' she said, smiling with a hint of triumph in her voice.

'Yes, as you told me,' he replied and heard how obedient he sounded.

He was not used to that. He was used to be the one deciding things. In bed he used to be the man, the one who conquered and took what he needed, knowing that by taking he also gave, gave and satisfied. No, he didn't lack confidence.

'You know that you will get the horsewhip today?' she said.

'You told me so,' he said with defiance in his voice.

'Do you object?'

'Why would I let you do this?'

'That is easy,' she said, smiling, 'because I say so.'

'You can never force me.'

She stood in silence for a while.

'No, indeed, you are a strong man,' she said, 'you could do what you want with me and I could only cry out in protest. You are the stronger of us. The only reason I will get to do this is because you let me.'

She smiled again.

Her self assured smile annoyed him.

'Why would I let you?'

'Because you want to,' she said, 'it is that simple.'

He looked at her.

'Are you ready?' she asked after a while.

He looked art her and was amazed how magnificent this tiny little woman was. She was the most adorable creature he could imagine and he knew he would do anything for her, to be allowed to be with her. He loved her with all his heart and all his body. That was the truth, he loved her with all his body and at this moment he wondered in embarrassment if she could see that.

'Take down your trousers!'

Her order was sharp. He felt a sudden flash of embarrassment and anger but was amazed when he found how his hands already was unbuttoning his trousers. He knew she would see.

'And your underwear, please!'

He pulled down his shorts and his desire for her became visible as it sprung from its hideout. He resisted an urge to cover up but realised how silly that would be.

Smiling, the small woman approached him and reached out her little hand and took hold of his sex. He gasped and held his breath. Her touch was intimate, very humiliating in a way, but he wanted desperately to surrender to it.

'I can see that you are happy to see me,' she said, almost giggling.

She let go of him and he sighed with a mix of relief and disappointment. She went to a sideboard and picked up the horsewhip that had been lying there. He was suddenly shocked. He hadn't noticed it lying there. He was shocked but also terribly aroused. What he had felt before was a summer's breeze compared to the storm that now raged within him.

He forgot how he got there but next he was kneeling by the sofa, leaning his body over the armrest. She was standing behind him.

'Oh, what a mistake,' she said, 'I should have had you naked. No time for that now.'

He heard the whip through the air, a vicious hissing sound, and then the sharp report when it hit his tender skin. Words cannot describe the utter agony that made him squirm and draw his breath.

The next stroke made him almost cry out with pain. He resisted an urge to start sobbing. He resisted letting this small, tiny woman reduce him to a crying school-boy.

'I like the sound of this,' she said happily.

He cried out as the third stroke hit him.

He braced himself to take it as a man. By the sixth stroke he felt tears in his eyes and by the tenth he was sobbing. He had lost. He started to cry and in a way he felt it as a relief.

He cried his heart out as she continued whipping him. He didn't care about how humiliating it was to hear her hum a tune while she was whipping him. She enjoyed this and he had to endure but now he cried and he was relieved he did.

'Done!' she said merrily, 'you can dress now.'

He scrambled to his feet, pulling his trousers up. He felt utterly defeated and utterly humiliated. He didn't know what bothered him the most, that she had whipped him and he had cried or that she didn't want to touch him.

He turned to her and saw how she reached out her hand and stroked his cheek.

'Now, now, you have been a good boy,' she said with a very patronising voice, 'no time for pleasure. Next time, my boy.'

He almost cried at the sweetness of her touch and how utterly arousing it was to feel the presence of her body so close to his. He restrained an urge to jump at her and tear off her clothes. He thought her dress was pretty, indeed, but it sure came in the way for her small but, oh, so desirable body.

He knew he couldn't do it. He never seriously considered ripping off her clothes but he knew he could not even suggest it, hint at it or try to caress her or kiss her. No he was completely in her power and she had said he had to wait, so wait he should.

He walked from her flat with a mix of devastation and arousal and humiliation and a strange sensation of having been blessed. He was a man, he was strong but somehow he knew he had been blessed by her and he knew in his heart that he would do anything for her, anything.


wilhelmina said...

*smiles wickedly* I want one!

Bravo Janice I thoroughly enjoyed this and thank you for the dedication. Interesting to step into different shoes, did you enjoy writing this? or what I mean is did you find it very different to write this?

I think you captured quite well his devotion to her, the surrender of his will to her and some of the conflict that might be present in still wanting to feel he is the strong man.

One thing I really enjoy about f/m is playing up that difference in physical strength. For me it highlights that this is not about that and allows for a greater emphasis on the strength of will, desire, passion and determination for both parties.


Enjoy your week away.
Much Love

Paul said...

Janice, different, interesting even intriguing.
I love your picturing of the Domme, so elegant and restrained.
I've not thought much about F/m, I pick up the feelings he has about her, his strength of will in allowing the whipping, her strength of will stopping where she did.
Wondering whether this relationship will/can go further.
Have a really good break, return rested, refreshed, relaxed and re-inspired.
Warm hugs,

Span King said...

My thoughts are complete;y disjointed. I feel his sense of emotional release and his utter misery at leaving her without having held her and being held by her. More please.

Anonymous said...

As you know, I think your stories about females being punished are very well written but, as they tap into my own fantasy world, I can’t pretend any objectivity. In contrast, I could read this story with a degree of detachment. And I think it’s brilliant. By the time I got to the final paragraph, which is a gem, I was beginning to wonder whether I’ve been missing out on something.
I hope you're enjoying your holiday.

Janice said...

Dear Mina, I am chuffed you liked it...smiles. I did enjoy writing it, I really did. I think you are right that this kind of scenario makes it clear that submission is not about being weak or forced to it. At least the nice kind of submission we do enjoy in fantasy land.

Dear Paul, thank you for your words. I don't know, either, if there is a future for them but there is dedication and that is good for a start, isn't it?

Dear Span King, I suppose you are right, it was kind of cruel to leave it were it was. I don't mind some hugging afterwards, not at all. Just didn't want it to be about sex in any straightforward way.

Dear Michael, I know you are a careful reader so your praise is worth a lot to me. Thank you for your comment.



Anonymous said...

The tables have turned!

Not my usual fantasy at all, but I am surprised at how arousing it was for me.

And I loved the frustrating non-ending!

Well done.

Michael G