Post by goldenmyst on Mar 18, 2019 16:35:31 GMT -6
In the Service of His Penance
My name is Miriam and I live in the heartland of her. We are a society ruled by women. When I was little I was taught that men were animals. Men have no economic or political power in our society. Only women can participate in our assemblies or hold office. Men are mainly breeding animals, much as cattle. We do breed with men. However, love, between men and women, is forbidden. Marriage is reserved solely as a union between women.
As a child, I am paired with Alana. Once, she pulls me from the burning wreckage of a building. She nurses me and gives me back my life. For that, I am eternally grateful.
But then I meet a young boy named Zach. He is a gangly boy, with a mop of raven black hair, and the cutest dimples. I fall madly in love with him at the age of eighteen. He whispers, “I love you.” I laugh. How silly the idea of love between a man and a woman seems to me. But I love him too. I do not speak it out of shame.
My corporeal parlor summons him to nights in the makeshift bedrooms of the woods where we
make love. But at long last, we are discovered. I get pregnant with Zach. Alana notices that my periods have stopped. She sees me kiss Zach while I gather water at the well. Zach will pay the price of the crime, for women are not held accountable in these matters. If not for the kiss I could have professed my relationship with Zach as purely for breeding and he would have been spared. But my brazen affection for a man imperils him.
Here I stand with my sisters. Zach’s cock is already at half mast. “Our roll in the hay had intrinsic value aside from putting a bun in the oven,” I say.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence in the male gender as more than just a breeding partner.”
The Dark Guardian stands before Zach in a beautiful pose. But she is deadly like a poisonous snake. I am aghast as I watch her anoint him with oil and rub it into his sex.
I mouth the words, “I love you.” He looks at me as though begging for deliverance from his whipping. I know that it is in my power to protect him. We will be spared if I agree to accept exile from my tribe. But I have never known any life
apart from my sisters.
I remember tender moments with Alana. She taught me the most important lesson in life. Always be true to your deepest feelings. Never allow a passing fancy or mood to guide you. But if you feel something deep within your heart and it rings true follow this feeling. It will guide you out of the wilderness into the freedom of truth.
My heart trembles as I watch Zach being led to the cross. I tell him “Mount the cross, Zach. Do it for us. It will all be over before you know it. Bite down on this rubber dog toy to protect your teeth when they clench. Give me a kiss before I thrash you.” I shackle his wrists and his ankles.
I stifle sobs deep in my chest as the Dark Guardian says, “You were the one defiled by your man. Therefore, you are obliged to mete out his punishment. You see that the only accessory he wears is his belt. You are to undo his belt. There now his leather strap is yours. It has more uses than holding up pants as he’ll soon discover.” I am repulsed by the thought that this beautiful man, whom I had shared such deep passion with, is about to be whipped by none other than me.
Waves of terror ripple through my body.
I say, “Zach if you keep a stiff upper lip while I chastise you we’ll be free to live on the perimeter of our queendom as wife and husband.”
“This is worse than when you caught me in a self-inflicted love pose.”
“Didn’t you ever get spanked by your mother?”
“I can’t even get a hickey from you without groaning. This is ten times worse,” he says.
“The pain will be great my love. But bear it for our freedom. I’ll start with hand smacks on your buns. How do you feel when I slap your ass?”
“I am floating in a sea, warm and deep.”
“Now you will feel the sting of my waspish hand such as you’ve never endured. But you will endure it for us, my love.”
“Miriam, keep up the pace my love, for slavery sits on a pinnacle of rock and no birds sing.”
The queen blindfolds Zach and summons her lady in waiting whose jaded smile reflects the sordid nature of her service to the queen on this her twenty-first orbit of the sun. I consider how tragic that the coquette is old enough to imbibe liquor but forbidden to as a court lady. Yet more to her liking, her lips are about to wrap around Zach’s bottleneck. The simultaneous pleasure and pain are the queen’s ounce of mercy. The beauty kneels before my lover man and uses her rosebud lips to bring him into his fullness as the crime is perpetrated.
Soon Zach quakes like a mystic. The fury of my jealousy fastens onto the folded belt. The leather in my hand is guided by the desire to make his bottom cheeks as red as those on the face of the blushing courtesan. I say, “Relax your butt my darling, it will go easier that way. Just focus on her cocoon being spun around your silkworm.”
With the swiftness of lightning, I burn into the soft flesh of his rear with the belt. The sting of the lick makes his hips roll evasively. My strap singes his bottom with a pink carnation tint as it cracks into him in endless swishes. The sound echoes, reverberating across my ears. His buttocks quiver with apparent delight as my leather marks him as my property. His soreness is revealed by his ouches. My belt cracks harder and harder. He makes love to the damsel’s lips with his thrusting hips telling me that his pain is exceeded only by the pleasure of the belle’s spring tulips tour until the crash of his own belt recedes into my hand’s soft caresses.
“My queen, you have compelled me to do this, though every fiber of my being is repulsed by it.”
Zach gets my belt makeover on his tushie. My crack of leather on his skin reverberates through the air. His muffled moans signify pain blossoming into pleasure. A crimson blush spreads across his ivory skin. My proclamation is made. “The belt whipping is over! Only my hand will be employed in the service of his penance.”
The court lady’s role is to smoke his cigar while I pray to the Goddess. “Why Athena must I do this to Zach? I want to love him. Don’t make me into a cruel dominatrix. That’s not who I want to be.”
With my right hand, I reach behind him and brush his buttocks with feather soft strokes. I feel him begin to quiver like a fawn. He must sense the contrast between my gentleness and harshness which fascinates him.
The court lady kisses the moist tip of his penis while swirling her tongue around his royal crown. He rises to the occasion. With her warm wet tongue, she follows a sinuous path up his rising prominence. She gently teases the sensitive underside of his cock-crest.
He stays hard for us like our knight on a night of bliss. By keeping him erect, we prolong his sentence of exile from being carried out. She plays ring around the rosy with her lips on his maypole. Her tongue taps him like a toe shoe in a ballet. The smack of my hand upon his receptively pushed out bottom turns his derriere into the heat of summer. With a finger I stroke his tush cleft ‘till he is as still as a butterfly sunning on a leaf.
My voice commands, “Stay still.” When my spanking of him resumes, his moans deepen, I pause. I hold his buns in a tender clasp.
The damsel says, “God your penis feels hard as granite. There should be a replica carved into a mountain. It’s that majestic!”
“You two have made me into a monument.”
I say, “We need to carve a wooden copy of your dick for me to get off with when I’m off on the battlefield.”
“God my tiny suns are igniting. They are about to explode! They are shrinking into me.”
Suddenly I whack his bottom sending him into
cries of hysteria as though the cells of his body are crying out for joy. Meteors are freed from the bondage of his balls.
His pollen bursts to be savored upon the courtesan’s psychedelic tongue. She lifts her face and gazes up at him with a wicked grin. Her lips glisten with his nectar in the torchlight.
“Enough! The price has been paid. There will be no more whipping” I say.
I know that if I choose, he will be spared banishment. But I don’t know if we can survive outside of the village. I have heard horror stories about what happens to young women who stray outside of our territory. Hostile male ruled tribes surround us. Though I have heard tell of a place far across the mountains where men and women live as equals and even marry. But the journey there would be perilous.
I could blackball our romance into a star crossed love affair gone south. With lightning speed, a scream rips from my vocal cords. But another voice speaks from my heart. I feel my lips open and my voice comes softly, “Where he goes so shall I.”
She says, “Do not take lightly what you are
saying. You know what this means.”
I stand firmly and my trembling fades away. I say, “I know what will happen to us.”
She replies, “Is it worth it, for a man?”
“I have feelings for him I have never known with anyone else. I need him. I can’t explain why.”
She says, “Do you need him more than Alana, your family, and your sisters?”
I say, “More than anything. I love him.” That is the first time I have spoken those words out loud.
She turns to her attendants and says, “Just to spill the beans he was in no risk. This was a test to see how passionate a woman could be with a man. We aren’t hairy brutes like those menfolk. So go in peace my sister and enjoy the pleasures of the male physique.” Zach is untied from the post by the attendants.
They lead him to me and I lead him to his tent. There I lay him on a blanket to apply aloe to undo his Pavlovian sexual response to pain. I reach toward his genitalia to apply the lotion. He covers them with his hands and I see a look of fear on his face. I know that it will take time for him to learn to trust again. Her scare tactics must have felt like a betrayal by the female gender.
He says, “The fear in my flesh will subside.”
I touch his cheek and say, “Darling, I have to do this. The sooner your pleasure principle is restored the better it will sink in.” He nods and I gently remove his hands. He whimpers as I tenderly apply the cream to his groin. When I am finished; I kiss him and whisper, “I love you.”
He knows what price I was willing to pay for his
deliverance. He looks up at me with a furrowed brow and says, “I won’t let you do this. Though our marriage is legal your sisters will shun you. It is too great a price for you to pay. Go back to Alana.”
I caress his forehead lightly and gently push the locks of hair from his eyes. I say, “Nothing you can say will change my decision. I made it freely. It is my choice.” We both know that as a man he has no power to challenge my decision. I pull a cover over him and say, “My decision is final. But don’t you go worrying about me becoming a social outcast. Believe me, this thing will snowball. There are hoards of women who dreamed of the day when they could marry men. Shucks, we started a revolution which was already in the making. You know the queen wanted me to use a cat of nine tails whip. You know the kind they flogged Jesus with. It has metal in the tails. I’d never have followed through with that. I’m not a psycho.”
He looks at me with his soft green eyes that speak to me with deep tenderness. His eye gleam makes him look so vulnerable. I tell him, “Now go to sleep.” As he looks up at me I see deep gratitude in his face. His look communicates to me that deep in his soul he loves me more than his own life. In his eyes, I see the future.
“You know, there was an elegance to your buns.
I would like to immortalize your red clover hills on canvas. But it would take considerable hand smacks to keep your red behind from fading to ivory before the painting is finished. I’m sure you would be agreeable to such a spanking if there was a strong Screw on your way compliments of my musculature. So long as the scene was solely for the portrait and never to be revisited. For a piquant touch, I’ll first coat your buns in olive oil to make them glisten like honey-dipped McIntosh Reds.”
“We’ll call it a study of an autumn blaze on sculpted brawn,” he acquiesces.
My name is Miriam and I live in the heartland of her. We are a society ruled by women. When I was little I was taught that men were animals. Men have no economic or political power in our society. Only women can participate in our assemblies or hold office. Men are mainly breeding animals, much as cattle. We do breed with men. However, love, between men and women, is forbidden. Marriage is reserved solely as a union between women.
As a child, I am paired with Alana. Once, she pulls me from the burning wreckage of a building. She nurses me and gives me back my life. For that, I am eternally grateful.
But then I meet a young boy named Zach. He is a gangly boy, with a mop of raven black hair, and the cutest dimples. I fall madly in love with him at the age of eighteen. He whispers, “I love you.” I laugh. How silly the idea of love between a man and a woman seems to me. But I love him too. I do not speak it out of shame.
My corporeal parlor summons him to nights in the makeshift bedrooms of the woods where we
make love. But at long last, we are discovered. I get pregnant with Zach. Alana notices that my periods have stopped. She sees me kiss Zach while I gather water at the well. Zach will pay the price of the crime, for women are not held accountable in these matters. If not for the kiss I could have professed my relationship with Zach as purely for breeding and he would have been spared. But my brazen affection for a man imperils him.
Here I stand with my sisters. Zach’s cock is already at half mast. “Our roll in the hay had intrinsic value aside from putting a bun in the oven,” I say.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence in the male gender as more than just a breeding partner.”
The Dark Guardian stands before Zach in a beautiful pose. But she is deadly like a poisonous snake. I am aghast as I watch her anoint him with oil and rub it into his sex.
I mouth the words, “I love you.” He looks at me as though begging for deliverance from his whipping. I know that it is in my power to protect him. We will be spared if I agree to accept exile from my tribe. But I have never known any life
apart from my sisters.
I remember tender moments with Alana. She taught me the most important lesson in life. Always be true to your deepest feelings. Never allow a passing fancy or mood to guide you. But if you feel something deep within your heart and it rings true follow this feeling. It will guide you out of the wilderness into the freedom of truth.
My heart trembles as I watch Zach being led to the cross. I tell him “Mount the cross, Zach. Do it for us. It will all be over before you know it. Bite down on this rubber dog toy to protect your teeth when they clench. Give me a kiss before I thrash you.” I shackle his wrists and his ankles.
I stifle sobs deep in my chest as the Dark Guardian says, “You were the one defiled by your man. Therefore, you are obliged to mete out his punishment. You see that the only accessory he wears is his belt. You are to undo his belt. There now his leather strap is yours. It has more uses than holding up pants as he’ll soon discover.” I am repulsed by the thought that this beautiful man, whom I had shared such deep passion with, is about to be whipped by none other than me.
Waves of terror ripple through my body.
I say, “Zach if you keep a stiff upper lip while I chastise you we’ll be free to live on the perimeter of our queendom as wife and husband.”
“This is worse than when you caught me in a self-inflicted love pose.”
“Didn’t you ever get spanked by your mother?”
“I can’t even get a hickey from you without groaning. This is ten times worse,” he says.
“The pain will be great my love. But bear it for our freedom. I’ll start with hand smacks on your buns. How do you feel when I slap your ass?”
“I am floating in a sea, warm and deep.”
“Now you will feel the sting of my waspish hand such as you’ve never endured. But you will endure it for us, my love.”
“Miriam, keep up the pace my love, for slavery sits on a pinnacle of rock and no birds sing.”
The queen blindfolds Zach and summons her lady in waiting whose jaded smile reflects the sordid nature of her service to the queen on this her twenty-first orbit of the sun. I consider how tragic that the coquette is old enough to imbibe liquor but forbidden to as a court lady. Yet more to her liking, her lips are about to wrap around Zach’s bottleneck. The simultaneous pleasure and pain are the queen’s ounce of mercy. The beauty kneels before my lover man and uses her rosebud lips to bring him into his fullness as the crime is perpetrated.
Soon Zach quakes like a mystic. The fury of my jealousy fastens onto the folded belt. The leather in my hand is guided by the desire to make his bottom cheeks as red as those on the face of the blushing courtesan. I say, “Relax your butt my darling, it will go easier that way. Just focus on her cocoon being spun around your silkworm.”
With the swiftness of lightning, I burn into the soft flesh of his rear with the belt. The sting of the lick makes his hips roll evasively. My strap singes his bottom with a pink carnation tint as it cracks into him in endless swishes. The sound echoes, reverberating across my ears. His buttocks quiver with apparent delight as my leather marks him as my property. His soreness is revealed by his ouches. My belt cracks harder and harder. He makes love to the damsel’s lips with his thrusting hips telling me that his pain is exceeded only by the pleasure of the belle’s spring tulips tour until the crash of his own belt recedes into my hand’s soft caresses.
“My queen, you have compelled me to do this, though every fiber of my being is repulsed by it.”
Zach gets my belt makeover on his tushie. My crack of leather on his skin reverberates through the air. His muffled moans signify pain blossoming into pleasure. A crimson blush spreads across his ivory skin. My proclamation is made. “The belt whipping is over! Only my hand will be employed in the service of his penance.”
The court lady’s role is to smoke his cigar while I pray to the Goddess. “Why Athena must I do this to Zach? I want to love him. Don’t make me into a cruel dominatrix. That’s not who I want to be.”
With my right hand, I reach behind him and brush his buttocks with feather soft strokes. I feel him begin to quiver like a fawn. He must sense the contrast between my gentleness and harshness which fascinates him.
The court lady kisses the moist tip of his penis while swirling her tongue around his royal crown. He rises to the occasion. With her warm wet tongue, she follows a sinuous path up his rising prominence. She gently teases the sensitive underside of his cock-crest.
He stays hard for us like our knight on a night of bliss. By keeping him erect, we prolong his sentence of exile from being carried out. She plays ring around the rosy with her lips on his maypole. Her tongue taps him like a toe shoe in a ballet. The smack of my hand upon his receptively pushed out bottom turns his derriere into the heat of summer. With a finger I stroke his tush cleft ‘till he is as still as a butterfly sunning on a leaf.
My voice commands, “Stay still.” When my spanking of him resumes, his moans deepen, I pause. I hold his buns in a tender clasp.
The damsel says, “God your penis feels hard as granite. There should be a replica carved into a mountain. It’s that majestic!”
“You two have made me into a monument.”
I say, “We need to carve a wooden copy of your dick for me to get off with when I’m off on the battlefield.”
“God my tiny suns are igniting. They are about to explode! They are shrinking into me.”
Suddenly I whack his bottom sending him into
cries of hysteria as though the cells of his body are crying out for joy. Meteors are freed from the bondage of his balls.
His pollen bursts to be savored upon the courtesan’s psychedelic tongue. She lifts her face and gazes up at him with a wicked grin. Her lips glisten with his nectar in the torchlight.
“Enough! The price has been paid. There will be no more whipping” I say.
I know that if I choose, he will be spared banishment. But I don’t know if we can survive outside of the village. I have heard horror stories about what happens to young women who stray outside of our territory. Hostile male ruled tribes surround us. Though I have heard tell of a place far across the mountains where men and women live as equals and even marry. But the journey there would be perilous.
I could blackball our romance into a star crossed love affair gone south. With lightning speed, a scream rips from my vocal cords. But another voice speaks from my heart. I feel my lips open and my voice comes softly, “Where he goes so shall I.”
She says, “Do not take lightly what you are
saying. You know what this means.”
I stand firmly and my trembling fades away. I say, “I know what will happen to us.”
She replies, “Is it worth it, for a man?”
“I have feelings for him I have never known with anyone else. I need him. I can’t explain why.”
She says, “Do you need him more than Alana, your family, and your sisters?”
I say, “More than anything. I love him.” That is the first time I have spoken those words out loud.
She turns to her attendants and says, “Just to spill the beans he was in no risk. This was a test to see how passionate a woman could be with a man. We aren’t hairy brutes like those menfolk. So go in peace my sister and enjoy the pleasures of the male physique.” Zach is untied from the post by the attendants.
They lead him to me and I lead him to his tent. There I lay him on a blanket to apply aloe to undo his Pavlovian sexual response to pain. I reach toward his genitalia to apply the lotion. He covers them with his hands and I see a look of fear on his face. I know that it will take time for him to learn to trust again. Her scare tactics must have felt like a betrayal by the female gender.
He says, “The fear in my flesh will subside.”
I touch his cheek and say, “Darling, I have to do this. The sooner your pleasure principle is restored the better it will sink in.” He nods and I gently remove his hands. He whimpers as I tenderly apply the cream to his groin. When I am finished; I kiss him and whisper, “I love you.”
He knows what price I was willing to pay for his
deliverance. He looks up at me with a furrowed brow and says, “I won’t let you do this. Though our marriage is legal your sisters will shun you. It is too great a price for you to pay. Go back to Alana.”
I caress his forehead lightly and gently push the locks of hair from his eyes. I say, “Nothing you can say will change my decision. I made it freely. It is my choice.” We both know that as a man he has no power to challenge my decision. I pull a cover over him and say, “My decision is final. But don’t you go worrying about me becoming a social outcast. Believe me, this thing will snowball. There are hoards of women who dreamed of the day when they could marry men. Shucks, we started a revolution which was already in the making. You know the queen wanted me to use a cat of nine tails whip. You know the kind they flogged Jesus with. It has metal in the tails. I’d never have followed through with that. I’m not a psycho.”
He looks at me with his soft green eyes that speak to me with deep tenderness. His eye gleam makes him look so vulnerable. I tell him, “Now go to sleep.” As he looks up at me I see deep gratitude in his face. His look communicates to me that deep in his soul he loves me more than his own life. In his eyes, I see the future.
“You know, there was an elegance to your buns.
I would like to immortalize your red clover hills on canvas. But it would take considerable hand smacks to keep your red behind from fading to ivory before the painting is finished. I’m sure you would be agreeable to such a spanking if there was a strong Screw on your way compliments of my musculature. So long as the scene was solely for the portrait and never to be revisited. For a piquant touch, I’ll first coat your buns in olive oil to make them glisten like honey-dipped McIntosh Reds.”
“We’ll call it a study of an autumn blaze on sculpted brawn,” he acquiesces.
