“On the whole human beings want to be good, but not too good, and not quite all the time.” – George Orwell
Alice wore her reins, every day.
She wore them to work under her elegant business suit. She wore them around the house under her jeans. She wore them whenever she went out, hidden beneath her pretty summer dress as she casually chatted with friends. She even wore her reins when she went to the gym, they were clearly visible whenever she undressed, yet no-one ever noticed. It was her kinky secret, hidden in plain sight, beyond the perception of all around her, as they busied themselves with towels, leotards, sprays and all the other paraphernalia of fitness.
Only He could see her reins, only He knew how to take them. He could control her with just one skillful hand. He could tug her, slowly increasing the force she felt, quickly silencing her bratty mouth until she was as still as a statue. He could tease her, slowly releasing his hold, feeling her squirm and longing for more, arching her back expectantly… until another firm tug brought a moan, and a reminder of who was really in charge.
That familiar soreness between her legs had been the sensation of discipline for as long as she could remember. It had begun with the appointment of Ms McGiven, an old-fashioned governess who’d brought with her some very old-fashioned methods of dealing with naughty girls. Goodness, it must have been fifteen years now since the first time.
We are the sum of our stories. And Alice could remember one particular story like yesterday. She thought of it often, retrieving it from her memory like a treasured relic, replaying it when drifting off to sleep with her fingers between her thighs, that one beautiful summer when Penny came to stay.
The alphabetical retrospective of stories reaches the perennially popular Punishment Panties.
This story began when I was thinking about reins – a familiar means of control for horses, but what would the equivalent device be for people who enjoyed sexual submissiveness? It would have to be something discreet, something that wouldn’t look out of place, which could be sternly tugged when a young lady misbehaved. A continuing reminder of her disciplinarian’s authority.
She would be disciplined through her very own panties, tugged tight between her tingling slit.
It was such a good pretext for a story, I felt it deserved some memorable characters, and the best way to establish them seemed to be an evocative backstory. Hence we’re introduced to two wilful young ladies, Alice and Penny, and their strict governess, and her own unique means of discipline.
The story grew from there, like all satisfying stories tend to do. The plot is non-linear, featuring dreams, fantasies, confessions and even a transcript. The joy of reading is to add new sights
to our mind’s eye, and through this tale you’ll witness intimate bottom inspections, bathtime
spankings, toilet predicaments, dressing up, public panty play and erotic jeopardy. Gifts of discrete
imagination, new treats to add to your personal fantasy collection.
It’s little wonder that at time of writing, Punishment Panties is still my most popular story.