This week’s best of the sex blogs from the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #57? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Same Time Next Year (http://nocloudnine.blogspot.com)
“She nodded again, grabbing the doorframe as she pushed against the finger.”

Fuck me- it’s friday. (http://dirtylittlecockslut.blogspot.com)
“I won’t pretend to be coy- because I know what I want.”

Sexual Things You Don’t Know About Me (http://www.taratainton.com)
“My own erotic inner self has been piqued these last few days by a wonderful fantasy; maybe I can help pique yours by sharing.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Happy Thanksgiving (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
Fast and Furious (http://edinerotica.blogspot.com)

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Or: How to give in to your darker nature…

I’ve been meaning to post this for about three days now. Where does the time go?

One of the reasons the post on Victorian Values struck a chord with me is that it’s quite close to the way my parents behave. I’ve learned more about my parents’ relationship over the last few weeks than in the previous 33 years.

It turns out that they married more out of a sense of duty than for love. My mother turned up at a time when my paternal grandmother was not long for this earth and while I’m sure there was attraction at one point (or at least I hope), this was soon supplanted in favour of her taking over my fathers’ mother’s duties - cooking, cleaning, running the house, etc.
After they were married, they waited five years to have children, in which time they travelled extensively. Once I arrived, their eldest, the foreign travel stopped. I don’t own a passport and have never been abroad. Live settled into a routine all-too-familiar to any family from the middle of the 19th century up until perhaps the 1960’s. My father got a steady job that he’s still in - and that he hated from day one and my mother stayed at home raising us, until we were old enough to both be at school, then she went out to work herself.

My father never seems to have contributed to the running of the house apart from giving my mother housekeeping money once per week. This would be barely enough to cover the basic expenses - her own upkeep, the grocery bills, things we needed, etc. Whatever other monies her earned went towards the bigger household bills - TV license, utilities, large purchases - and disappeared into a vast pit of his own personal expenses, which has now got so out of hand that they’ve had to remortgage their house in order to partially pay off what he owes before he retires in two years time.

From the time my younger sister arrived, three years after me, I’m sure they stopped sleeping together. My mother and sister shared one bed, I had a room to myself and my father moved into his fathers’ room while he went to live with my aunt.

I’ve been told I was the favourite. It didn’t feel like it at the time, but with the power of hindsight, I suppose that’s true.

I was never shown an overabundance of emotional love, we simply got by. Emotional matters were simply glossed over. They weren’t talked about. You learned psychological self-sufficiency - well, I did. My sister took another route and has never managed to deal with the emotional requirements of a normal life.

One emotion that was freely expressed was my fathers’ stress, frustration and anger. To say he had a short temper would be a gross understatement. Many are the nights where we’d sit in fear, watching him struggle to remain calm under the pressure of some imagined faux pas one of us, or more often none of us had stumbled into. There would be the inevitable explosion where someone would get either yelled at or physically attacked.

Again, hindsight can explain these black days and his moods. His interpersonal skills, tempered and honed by an overbearing mother, left him demonstrably unable to cope with other people. His intolerance knows no bounds. It’s not so much that he cannot tolerate fools, but that he is unable to accept anyone elses point of view, or that other people have different ways of doing things.

I have had many edgy conversations with him on the subject of language. One of his bugbears and my areas of speciality. Recently I’ve started to win these conversations, but in the past, it’s been easier to acquiesce to his flawed judgement in order to avoid another conflagration.

At the age of twelve, I decided that i wasn’t going to grow up like him. I’d already shown signs of having inherited his explosive temper - and had the visits to the Headmaster to show for it. I understood genetic inheritance, understood that it was becoming inevitable that I would begin to be shaped to his mould unless I took drastic steps.

I learned to meditate, I turned to psychology, philosophy and a study of various occult practises for inspiration. Gradually, it worked. I became centred, placid, calm, controlled. I learned to control each and every one of my psychological reactions to things and to direct them in ways that I found more attractive. My destructive urges all but disappeared. I learned that my destructive nature could be embraced, controlled and submerged.

This was all in place and working by the time I was thirteen. I dealt with puberty by writing. Reams of paper would be filled with tumultuous rantings, shared onl ywith my wastepaper bin. I survived. I went so far as to join a choir while my voice was breaking in order to preserve my baritone speaking voice so that it didn’t descend to the bass levels his had settled at. I learned prodigious self-control and peace of mind as a defence mechanism against who I knew I could be if I let myself go.

There were episodes when my control slipped. An ex-girlfriend who knew exactly what buttons to press got a beting that I still to this day don’t condone and won’t forgive myself for. To this day, though, she doesn’t understand that my shame comes not from the fact that i hurt her, but from the fact that my self-control had slipped.
The summer of 1996 was a watershed, however, in my personal quest for inner peace. I took my first ever holiday alone. Four days at a rock festival. For those four days I was purely myself, undiluted. I had nothng to my name except a tent, a gallon bottle which I filled from standpipes, a bag full of clothes to use as a pillow and some very basic cooking equipment. Everyone around me had come with a very sensible amount of money - hundreds of pounds each. I had two pounds fifty. I didn’t just cope, I flourised. Not once dod I find my position a hardship. I’d planned successfully and had the most amazing time of my life thus far. I came home a changed person. Finally at home in my brain. Me. No mask, no games, no acts. I’d proved I was worthy of being myself and I’ve never looked back.
Over the years since then, while I’ve been with my girl, I’ve learned that one can appear angry without actually feeling it. I’ve used this act successfully a few times with her during the final stages of her own battle with puberty as she too tried to push buttons, play psychological games with me and so forth.

I’d known about the world of BDSM for a long time…and been fascinated by it for just as long. I can’t even tell you now what it was that appealed to me back then, but I can tell you what makes it such a natural thing in the life I live now:

The beast I’ve battled all my life, that vicious, inherited part of me that wants to lash out has found an outlet where the consequences are overwhelmingly good. I’ve learned through the practise of Domestic Discipline that my inherited, natural sadism can be a positive force. I have been at peace for many years now, so I can’t say that I found peace through DD alone, but now maye that last little piece of me that never fitted before has slid into place.

I am at peace…and complete.

We’re taking a week off from providing a brand new pic for HNT this week, so here’s one from my vanilla archives.

Happy Thanksgiving to our US visitors, and happy Thursday to everyone else!

This week’s best of the sex blogs from the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasmer participants. Want in Sugasm #56? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
To Tell or Not to Tell… (http://lipstickexplosion.com)
“Jane Falling claims it’s best not to tell, and she writes, ‘my identity as a prostitute is too serious a secret to trust with near-strangers.’”

Anti-Anti-Pornography, Part II (http://www.teen-porn-site.com/blog)
“One question I would like to ask them is - were there any rape or child abuse cases *before* the invention of pornography?”

To Shave or Not to Shave (http://www.model-chat.com)
“I stayed full bush for about my first two weeks as a live adult host.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Silence is better than bullshit (unless you’re a Gold-level member) (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
Pillow Talk: Interview with Razor Ryan (http://adelehaze.com)

Read the rest of this entry »

(Recently posted on collarme.com forums)

_{on the Conduct and Procedure of the Intimate and Personal Relationships of the Marriage State for the Greater Spiritual Sanctity of this Blessed Sacrament and the Glory of God}

by
Ruth Smythers, beloved wife of The Reverend L.D. Smythers
Pastor of the Arcadian Methodist
Church of the Eastern Regional Conference
Published in the year of our Lord 1894
Spiritual Guidance Press
New York City

INSTRUCTION AND ADVICE FOR THE YOUNG BRIDE

To the sensitive young woman who has had the benefits of proper upbringing, the wedding day is, ironically, both the happiest and most terrifying day of her life. On the positive side, there is the wedding itself, in which the bride is the central attraction in a beautiful and inspiring ceremony, symbolizing her triumph in securing a male to provide for all her needs for the rest of her life. On the negative side, there is the wedding night, during which the bride must pay the piper, so to speak, by facing for the first time the terrible experience of sex.

At this point, dear reader, let me concede one shocking truth. Some young women actually anticipate the wedding night ordeal with curiosity and pleasure! Beware such an attitude! A selfish and sensual husband can easily take advantage of such a bride. One cardinal rule of marriage should never be forgotten: GIVE LITTLE, GIVE SELDOM, AND ABOVE ALL, GIVE GRUDGINGLY. Otherwise what could have been a proper marriage could become an orgy of sexual lust.

On the other hand, the bride’s terror need not be extreme. While sex is at best revolting and at worse rather painful, it has to be endured, and has been by women since the beginning of time, and is compensated for by the monogamous home and by the children produced through it.

It is useless, in most cases, for the bride to prevail upon the groom to forego the sexual initiation. While the ideal husband would be one who would approach his bride only at her request and only for the purpose of begetting offspring, such nobility and unselfishness cannot be expected from the average man.

Most men, if not denied, would demand sex almost every day. The wise bride will permit a maximum of two brief sexual experiences weekly during the first months of marriage. As time goes by she should make every effort to reduce this frequency.

Feigned illness, sleepiness, and headaches are among the wife’s best friends in this matter. Arguments, nagging, scolding, and bickering also prove very effective, if used in the late evening about an hour before the husband would normally commence his seduction.

Clever wives are ever on the alert for new and better methods of denying and discouraging the amorous overtures of the husband. A good wife should expect to have reduced sexual contacts to once a week by the end of the first year of marriage and to once a month by the end of the fifth year of marriage.

By their tenth anniversary many wives have managed to complete their child bearing and have achieved the ultimate goal of terminating all sexual contacts with the husband. By this time she can depend upon his love for the children and social pressures to hold the husband in the home.

Just as she should be ever alert to keep the quantity of sex as low as possible, the wise bride will pay equal attention to limiting the kind and degree of sexual contacts. Most men are by nature rather perverted, and if given half a chance, would engage in quite a variety of the most revolting practices. These practices include among others performing the normal act in abnormal positions; mouthing the female body; and offering their own vile bodies to be mouthed in turn.

Nudity, talking about sex, reading stories about sex, viewing photographs and drawings depicting or suggesting sex are the obnoxious habits the male is likely to acquire if permitted.

A wise bride will make it the goal never to allow her husband to see her unclothed body, and never allow him to display his unclothed body to her. Sex, when it cannot be prevented, should be practiced only in total darkness. Many women have found it useful to have thick cotton nightgowns for themselves and pajamas for their husbands. These should be donned in separate rooms. They need not be removed during the sex act. Thus, a minimum of flesh is exposed.

Once the bride has donned her gown and turned off all the lights, she should lie quietly upon the bed and await her groom. When he comes groping into the room she should make no sound to guide him in her direction, lest he take this as a sign of encouragement. She should let him grope in the dark. There is always the hope that he will stumble and incur some slight injury which she can use as an excuse to deny him sexual access.

When he finds her, the wife should lie as still as possible. Bodily motion on her part could be interpreted as sexual excitement by the optimistic husband.

If he attempts to kiss her on the lips she should turn her head slightly so that the kiss falls harmlessly on her cheek instead. If he attempts to kiss her hand, she should make a fist. If he lifts her gown and attempts to kiss her anyplace else she should quickly pull the gown back in place, spring from the bed, and announce that nature calls her to the toilet. This will generally dampen his desire to kiss in the forbidden territory.

If the husband attempts to seduce her with lascivious talk, the wise wife will suddenly remember some trivial non-sexual question to ask him. Once he answers she should keep the conversation going, no matter how frivolous it may seem at the time.

Eventually, the husband will learn that if he insists on having sexual contact, he must get on with it without amorous embellishment. The wise wife will allow him to pull the gown up no farther than the waist, and only permit him to open the front of his pajamas to thus make connection.

She will be absolutely silent or babble about her housework while his huffing and puffing away. Above all, she will lie perfectly still and never under any circumstances grunt or groan while the act is in progress. As soon as the husband has completed the act, the wise wife will start nagging him about various minor tasks she wishes him to perform on the morrow. Many men obtain a major portion of their sexual satisfaction from the peaceful exhaustion immediately after the act is over. Thus the wife must insure that there is no peace in this period for him to enjoy. Otherwise, he might be encouraged to soon try for more.

One heartening factor for which the wife can be grateful is the fact that the husband’s home, school, church, and social environment have been working together all through his life to instill in him a deep sense of guilt in regards to his sexual feelings, so that he comes to the marriage couch apologetically and filled with shame, already half cowed and subdued. The wise wife seizes upon this advantage and relentlessly pursues her goal first to limit, later to annihilate completely her husband’s desire for sexual expression.

© 1894 The Madison Institute.

This weekend was one non-stop round of phone calls, suppressed emotions and soul searching.

One of brat’s basic rules is that she’s not allowed more than 30 minutes on the phone to her family each day. The reasons are manifold, but in short, if I allowed her any longer, she would be subjected to 3-hour calls every day, most of which would consist of her mother retelling the same stories for maybe the fiftieth time that month, brat yelling at kids to be quiet and not being able to attend to her duties.

Unacceptable. Her punishment for going over the half hour is one demerit for every 15 minutes extra.

This weekend she managed to notch up a whopping eight demerits!

Monday was payback time, however. I’d informed her that she would be punished on Sunday night, I would decide on the nature of her punishment by the morning.

I’d had an idea running through my head for a day or two about more adventurous restraining methods than simply hand and ankle cuffs, so the first stage of her punishment was to spend a while tethered by the ankle. I fastened a good length of chain to the leg of the sofa and padlocked one of our comfy furlined cuffs to her ankle. Once the chain was attached, there was simply no escape. She was restricted to an area maybe one and a half meters wide and not allowed on the furniture.

The second stage of her punishment was to be a damn good spanking, which turned out to be simplicity itself as she’s stil rather sensetive. Five minutes reasonably lightweight attention had her on the verge of tears so as that had satisfied my requirements (she has to at least feel sorry for herself, if not the action that gained her the demerits), I let her up.

She actually managed to get quite comfy after that, sat on her pet bed (a mound of cushions and a folded quilt), head in my lap, and it was a nice, romantic interlude, so I allowed her to doze for a few minutes.

After a while, though, I put her to work sorting through a box of various junk we’d amassed. There’s a serious lack of cupboards and storage space in our house, so as a consequence, we tend to fill large plastic stackable boxes with all the odds and ends and detritus of day to day life. These do need regular sifting, though, to extricate the useful from the disposable, so making her sort one of these out gave both of us a good sense of achievement.

Once that was done, my brat had been hobbled for maybe two hours, plenty of time for her to contemplate the consequences of her misdeeds. We needed to pop out to fetch a toybox for the kids rooms, so I released her, stashed the kit away and off we went.

I do like the idea of the less restrictive, but more secure restraints. Ideally, I’d love to get a large, collapsible cage that I can lock her into for a few hours. The sell them on Ebay, oddly enough. If you search for variations on the theme of “Large animal cage”, you should find something reasonably secure and usable.

I’ve looked up bondage furniture on the web before now and yer actual bondage style slave cage actually retails at about $500-1000. Well out of our wildest dreams! Also, these things tend to be rather hard to pass off as vanila furniture, or disassemble for discrete storage.

For now, though, keeping her tethered to the sofa - or better yet, a ring screwed into the skirting board or something - is a perfectly acceptable alternative. I haven’t talked to her about the psychological impact of being restrained in such a secure, yet simple manner. Might do that later…

hello all, it is that time of year again when all the colds and flu goes around and i’ve got it. I have had 5-6 weeks now of bad tonsils and i think the cold came from that. i’m not usually this ill in the winter months, being a holistc therapist you tend not to get ill that much, so i think it’s been going on extra long just to teach me a lesson not to spread myself too thin and take on too many college courses!

luckily the cold broke yesterday with the help of a good hot dinner, a good spanking (which hurt because my bum is sensitive) and a big mug of hot chocolate laced with a double shot of jim beam

as for christmas, my list is ever growing and i’m banned from spending more than £5 a week on presents until december, so i’m putting the money into the bank to save, then i’m gonna go SHOPPING!!!wooooohoooooo!!

most of the women i know say that it’s a good thing to start early so that i have got some presents in for the kids or for other family members. maybe i’ll start a poll so you can all vote how many lashes Master Fitz gets before christmas for stopping me buying presents for our poor kids that haven’t got any toys (only 2 bedrooms full, that we may need to rent a new house just for all their stuff)

if anyone has any ideas of how to do this feel free to comment

brat x

Today is the day that Bratmaster.co.uk will see its 10,000th visitor!

With this in mind, we’ve decided it’s about time you spilled the beans about yourselves a little bit.

We’ve written a really easy, really small survey that we’d absolutely LOVE for everyone to fill in!

You can find it by clicking on the button in the sidebar, or by following this link.

Thanks a million for every one of our ten thousand visitors and here’s looking forward to the next ten thousand!

There’s not much going on here lately, is there?

It can’t have escaped our readers’ notice that while this blog has become a little more popular over the last couple of weeks, it’s also took a hit, comments wise and, quite frankly, action wise.

To put it another way, we’re running low on juicy spanking reports and the like.

That’s because there’s not much going on around Castle Fitz lately. We’re into that terribly fraught season where money, presents, family and friends are taking up more and more of our thoughts,which doesn’t leave much inclination or energy with which to play as hard as we have done previously.

This past week has been a round of family visits, meeting up with old friends, shopping and school. For two people who don’t work, we’re ridiculously busy and that’s having a detrimental effect on the fun we can have.

What with seasonal illnesses and bad moods abounding through the whole mess of things, neither of us have had any particular interest in doing much of anything lately and what I think we need to do is a bit of reconnection.

Also, brat is being exceptionally good lately and doing her utmost not to amass demerits. There’s three she needs to work off tomorrow, but that’s been the first for ages.

The run up to christmas is always a bad time for us, with brat having a determination to make christmas as big and special as possible and me expending a lot of energy reining her in. Usually, this leads to a lot of friction and frustration on everyone’s parts and this year is no exception.

It’s a situation I’m going to have to deal with ASAP, but right now I’m feeling snowed under and slightly detatched from things. It’s taking a lot of effort for me to take any interest in anything right now and again,that’s something I need to deal with and put right very quickly.

The thing with being a Master is that it’s unwise to take your eye off the ball. There’s really no space for you to switch off. The dynamic is always there that you have to be a leader, an influence and a guide in everyting. While it’s true that brat does wear her metaphorical (and physical) chains very loose, I think maybe they do need tightening.

Something I read on the collarme forum recently struck a nerve, that in M/s, there’s always two people in bondage. The slave, of course is bound to the Master, but also, there’s another person bound to the other end of that leash. I am as much bound to dominate her as she is bound to submit to me and in a lifestyle situation can be very tiring if not approached from a positive and pro-active point of view, and that’s the point I’ve reached at the moment.

I have to say that this time of year is my least favourite. It’s about now, the start to middle of November that Christmas starts to occupy every waking moment of brats’ life. Lists (Kay, you listening?), budgets, plans, catalogues, wishlists, ebay purchases, cashflow analyses, deals being struck, loans being negotiated…all of that is what takes up my girls’ thoughts, to the point where there’s no room for anything else.

The problem is, to my mind, that everything is going to naturally take care of itself. We get paid on specific days, we get certain bonuses shortly before the holiday period and it’s on those days that we can get everything done. We take our cards and wallets, head to the shops and GET stuff.

It’s a conflict of attitudes that’s made this time of year an absolute misery in the past and despite my best efforts, I see us sliding into the vanila rut of vast overplanning that’s tainted every Christmas period since the kids arrived.

The question is, how to deal with it?

When I’ve got an answer, I’ll let you know. A lot of it depends on the deep chat I’m going to try and have tomorrow.

Sorry for the dearth of juicy spankings and sexy happenings, but y’know, this wasn’t really only meant as a place to catalogue our playtime exploits. This is a slice of real life with people who are doing their damndest to live the Master and slave lifestyle that suits them best and that doesn’t always include sex and spanking. Sometimes it means soul searching, renegotiation and time spent getting back on track.

It’ll all be here, though. We’re not going anywhere!

Looking at our site visitor statistics, we could have something like 60-100 regular visitors, assuming you guys pop in every day or every two or three days. Ican’t tell youhow blown away I feel that all of you are enjoying what we put up here and I wish I had the imagination and FUNDS to give something back to you all for your loyalty and patronage.

For now, you’ll have to settle for our heartfelt thanks and a promise to bring you more of the same over the coming year.

Twenty strokes, as voted for by our generous readers

Here it is, folks - with a subtle change. Firstly, after our recent discussion/row, and considering the voting this week has been substantially less frantic than the previous week, with only 47 votes polled in total, the decision was made to administer only one stroke per vote. Therefore, here we have a bratty bum adorned with twenty strokes of our whippy, lovely bamboo cane.

There were tears, there was shouting, but a bit of TLC and a glass of wine later, that amazingly resilient brat was laughing and joking around as if nothing had happened. It’s the most she’s ever taken while bent over as opposed to lying down, so I’m ever so proud of her. She did well!

Spanking Thursday Results

It was touch and go in the closing stages with the one implement that’s been ahead all week getting some serious competiton, but it just wasn’t enough:

So at some point between now and next Thursday, my clever bratty girl will be bending over for fifteen lashes from our very sexy, intoxicatingly excruciating riding crop.

There won’t be a poll for Spanking Thursday this week as I want to catch up and post the cropping photo as next week’s HNT pic, but don’t despair dear readers, something new will be going up in our sidebar either later today or tomorrow, which I’m sure you will enjoy filling in.