Greetings from Jennifer Sherwood or commonly known as Severa, a purveyor in the Art of Punishment and Restraint. Remember me? A while ago, you published a letter from my downtrodden slave, Whip, and I have taken an avid interest in PDQ Quarterly ever since.
I was particularly fond of hearing about your contributor Alison's corporal punishment skills executed on the visiting submissive sissy, 'Pansy' (see May 2016). It maybe dated, but due to the article's wonderful wickedness, my slave has read this to me on numerous occasions. This unforgiving taskmistress, Alison, obviously enjoys inflicting brutal pain because her attention to detail had me licking my lips. I could almost taste the merciless cane strokes as they striped Pansy's thighs, lower legs and soles of her feet before finishing on her bottom. Yummy! And ordering 'silence!' at the submissive's gasp in pain, or else Alison would start again, is firm discipline of the highest quality.
Contrary to my previous belief, a sissy could have her uses in my domestic household: to cook and serve food and generally skivvy and be physically abused when my slave is out-of-commission due to my over-exercising. In fact, I thought about getting Atia (my female maid) a sissy for Christmas what fun she could have with her collection of strapons.
Alison has epitomised that a sissy or 'sissy-maid,' as they are commonly referred to PDQ, exist for the amusement of cane-wielding mistresses, who employ their implements at the slightest violation. But in my business, a more masculine type of submissive is sometimes needed to mind or defend his mistress, despite the physical pain, which she enjoys inflicting on him. (In Roman times, my research tells me, decadent noble-women would shop at slave markets to select hugely-endowed African and Greek macho studs to physically protect them as well as to physically satisfy them.) A dangerous incident exampling this recently happened, which resulted in my asking questions of myself. For had it not been for a dog's lead, a first aid box and a headlock, my negligence would have cost me a stabbing injury with a pair of scissors:-
We had a special offer on that day. Pay for eight strokes and receive an extra four free-of-charge. Using heavy-duty cable ties (I find them reliable and get them free from a submissive customer), I fastened the maggot's wrists to the vertical chains that protrude through the modified trapeze-swing apparatus. With the maggot's ankles manacled, I tugged tightly on the dog's lead that snapped on the chastity cage (with optional spikes), which imprisoned his genitals.
After my trusty cane had delivered twelve meaty strokes, I lowered the chains - so that the sobbing wretch could crumple to the gymnasium's floor in the interest of health and safety - cut the cable ties with scissors and unlocked the manacles. Due to the enthusiasm that I put into my work, when I cut a submissive down, they stay down but not this time.
Later, I ascertained it was the noise of the chastity cage's dog's lead clanking against the wooden floor that compelled me to turn around and see a shape coming towards me. This shape fell to the floor after it was struck by a smaller shape, which came from the air and a metal object (the scissors) went hurtling across the floor. Whip had heroically thrown the first aid box at the caned rogue, who was closely upon me with my scissors in his fist.
Next, Whip had my would-be assailant in a head lock and manhandled him over the vaulting horse punishment apparatus, whereas I picked up and yanked on the dog's lead, whilst caning the maggot's backside furiously until he wailed 'evil bitch' and passed out. With my sharp killer heels, I stamped on his buttocks for good measure as he slumped to the floor.
The chastity cage was removed, but the maggot was awoken by the pain that a sharp metal Jubilee Clip brings when it has been slid over one's genitals and, with a slotted screwdriver, screwed tightly closed behind one's testicles. In order to keep the screw's chamber below the testicles and thus difficult to access, duck tape had been added to prevent the clip from spinning.
In the early hours of the morning, the tied up guttersnipe was bundled into the car and driven to a lonely road, which dissected through some woodlands. There, the oink was untied and left naked by the roadside - his bagged up clothes, disabled cellular telephone and refunded money were thrown from the car a little way up the road. I figured that even if the battered and bruised maggot managed to unravel the duck tape, he would have to involve another person to unscrew the torturous Jubilee Clip. And, providing the oink didn't keep a screwdriver up his caned-to-ribbons backside, he would have to visit an open hardware store first.
When Whip returned to my bedroom the next morning to clear away the breakfast crockery and cutlery, I ordered him to prepare for ultimate corporal punishment in the gymnasium in an hour's time. Owing to yesterday's heroism, even a sadistic minx like Atia poked her pretty head above the bedcovers and questioned me with an expression on her face - her beautiful mouth sticky from munching my quim. I explained that yes, Whip's Galahad actions had prevented me from potential serious injury and possibly death. But as well as being my slave, he is also my minder and bodyguard. Now to bestow a reward or show leniency could be interpreted as a weakness, which would undermine my superiority and may present danger in itself. I reminded Atia that submissives such as Whip must always be kept in their place, which is downtrodden under their mistress' sharp stiletto heel.
Besides, due to yesterday's occurrence, I felt vulnerable rather than my usual confident and intimidating self. I asked myself: 'Should we arm ourselves with cattle-prods?' Or had I become too old for this profession, I kept wondering. I was also concerned that the maggot had flagged down a police car, been freed of the chunk of metal that we had screwed to him, given a statement and was filing for assault. But above all, I was angry! Angry at my negligence and angry at the male race. They say that when one falls off a horse, one should climb straight back into the saddle. Well, so would I by taking my anger out on my heroic slave's saddle.
After my maid, Atia, had washed and towel dried my body (paying special attention to those succulent bits), I wore nothing accept a breast support for my large boobs and my timber-soled sandals, which clicked-clacked against the gymnasium floor. Whip - as expected - had prepared himself for ultimate punishment by manacling his own ankles and cable tying his own wrists to the trapeze-swing apparatus.
I had decided to begin with my treasured bullwhip that had been shortened, but not used for a while. Once the slave had been elevated - so that his toes merely grazed the floor - I felt the marks left on his backside from a previous caning before inspecting the front, which was Atia's territory.
Dear, clever Atia. What would I do without her? As I sharpened my talons on Whip's nipples, Atia was setting up the damp stocking treatment, which put a look of fear into my slave's eyes. But first, let me explain my preference when it comes to making a submissive's nipples sore and crusty. In my profession, I know a lot of ladies, who swear by attaching serated clamps to their submissives' nipples. Gosh! I've even seen nipple clamps in the shape of funky little piranha fish. What fun! However, I prefer the human touch of using one's razor-sharp fingernail when a slave's nipple needs slicing and gouging. Much nicer, don't you think?
Atia, bless her heart, had slipped a tight plastic band along Whip's freed penis, which forced an erection like an expanding cooked sausage outgrowing its skin. Satisfied, she lifted Whip's sore cock with her cane and scolded in jest: 'Really! You're about to be punished and dare to get an erection? What a wicked thing you are!' But her party trick was yet to come.
'The stocking treatment' is our devised method of torturing a worthless male by strangling his penis and can be briefly described as the three C's: cheap, crude and above all, oh so cruel. Now, the trapeze-swing punishment apparatus (that suspended the slave) has but one flaw, the impact of a cane stroke or whip lash across a submissive's bottom, swings the wretch forward. This movement, Atia and I am convinced, can soften the blow. Therefore, knowing that the stocking treatment can produce the most beautiful bloodcurdling screams, Atia thought of a way to put this simple method of torture to more productive use as a problem solver.
Remove two comfortable spectator chairs - situated either side of the slave's dangling legs - to reveal two n-shaped loops similar to those used in the lawn game of crochet, but made from reinforced steel and anchored to the floor. Having determined the middle of a long length of nylon stocking, Atia sexily pouted at the fearful slave and looped the stocking around his enlarged dick. She tested her work by pulling the stocking ever so tight and was satisfied with Whip's response of a piercing shriek. Golly! The slave was whimpering in pain and I hadn't started with my whip yet. Brains as well as beauty for Atia had taught herself to slipknot nylon stocking.
So with both ends secured to the loops, the slave's poor penis became like a pulley. Thus, any loss of pain due to the impact of a lash sending him forward would surely be regained by a straining length of nylon stocking eating further into his red raw cock. (How ironic that Whip used to be senior to Atia when he was a free man and they worked alongside each other in the offices of a large company. But now it had been he who installed the metal loops in the presence of a seated Atia, who chirped her directions, but did not spare the cane while he went about his work. Amazing what a girl and her cane can achieve.) Just for good measure, Atia sprayed the nylon with salted water in a bid to further tighten the stocking.
A distressed Whip kissed the Whip and I was ready to begin. My first lash was a beauty. I hurried my walk as I approached the slave's backside, pulled back my arm and 'CRACK' as the whip uncoiled and landed across the slave's buttocks. I had forgotten that this punishment instrument made such a beautiful sound, which was followed by the slave's protracted scream that finished in the count of 'ONE!' Whether one is English, Australian or from the Caribbean, the saying of 'leather on willow (meaning ball striking bat)' lovingly describes the old game of cricket to sport fans. Well, bugger cricket! Because leather on flesh followed by a submissive's scream is music to my ears. I inspected my handiwork of the long slender whip stripe before preparing to deliver another lash.
With the adrenalin flowing, I literally cracked on with my next blows, which all hit the mark like my quarry's screams. Gosh, I was wet. So Atia made sure to mop my brow and sponge down my inner upper thighs. Rather than change to my new quirt, I finished with some jolly good old canework and photographed the whimpering slave's savage wounds for my secret web site.
The other day I permitted myself some fun by pumping my slave's anus with Atia's magnum strap-on and thought about Whip's letter to you, especially the paragraphs on Louise B and her slave, Cynthia, in the seventies (extracted - to remind you - in italic as follows).
'Apparently, in the cruellest environment, Louise B applied the 'petticoat discipline' training method to her would be male maid, Cynthia, who developed into the 'perfect' male slave to Louise B and her lady friends. Louise B explained that males are unruly and should be kept firmly in their place, which is underneath at all times and that she was a devout believer in corporal punishment. Therefore, when Louise B's adopted nephew came to live with her in his early teens, Louise B dressed him in petticoats with restrictive inadequately-sized panties underneath and renamed him 'Cynthia'. It was job satisfying, Louise B wrote, to see her young petticoated male maid awkwardly, but obediently perform his (or her) chores in the presence of wickedly mocking older females, who were allowed to participate in the chastisement of him. Right from the outset, Louise B would severely punish Cynthia at the slightest irritation. Usually she employed her hand, but if serious annoyance had been caused, a cane and sometimes a whip were used to good effect.
Despite the sexually arousing popularity with your female article contributors of using those cruel, but necessary male chastity devices on their husbands, Louise B failed to mention if she applied the same to Cynthia, who, according to her, grew into a well-endowed young slave. (I think that Cynthia would not have risked masturbation, for the whipping it would have resulted in if he were caught.) And rather than attempt to suppress or crush his manhood, Louise B reaped the sexual benefits for she wrote that Cynthia keeps her house spotless at all times. Once his (or her) duties were done, Cynthia was required to service Louise B and whichever female friend was sharing her bed at the time. However, in keeping with Louise B's expectancy of downtrodden males, Cynthia had to be made up like a 'tart' and don female wigs while performing this service. When Louise B and female friend were duly satisfied, Cynthia would sleep on the floor at the foot of their bed and resume being a serving maid again early in the morning.
Louise B continued that she regularly held slave punishment sessions - attended by her lady friends and their daughters - in her soundproof basement on each first Saturday of the month. Of course Cynthia had done nothing wrong to warrant this prolonged humiliation and torture. But as Louise B correctly remonstrated: 'A slave is a slave and at his mistress's disposal.' At first, Louise B wrote, she was shocked at how some of her usually demure friends turned into bloodthirsty tyrants within the Punishment Basement. Nevertheless, Louise B would award a prize to the female, who came up with the most inventive form of humiliation or torture of Cynthia.'
I was interested to hear about the young Cynthia's first ever monthly punishment session. Therefore amid Whip's grunts and cries, as the strap-on pounded him hard, I ordered him to elaborate further. Whip remonstrated that as the seventies were a long time ago, he could not remember much more than what he had already written, which was not answer I wanted. So after an appropriate caning complimented the buggering, these are the few lines that Whip managed to recollect as follows.
'Despite being groomed for household slavery, it must have been an absolutely terrifying ordeal for the male teenager ('Cynthia') to have experienced the initial session in Louise B's punishment basement. I suspect his already-rather-large penis and testicles would have been tightly ringed and tied to create maximum effect so that they bulged through his restraining underwear and maid's uniform. Then he would have been paraded in front of mocking and bloodthirsty middle-aged females, their excitement bolstered by too many glasses of wine. The maid's uniform would not have lasted for long, leaving Cynthia naked, apart from a collar around his neck and the unforgiving additions to his genitalia.
To start the events, Louise B bent Cynthia - her adopted nephew - over the basement's crude punishment stool (his collar chained to the stool's leg) and gave his buttocks six crisp strokes with a flexible cane, to the 'oohs' and 'aahs' of the spectators. While his backside was being appropriately warmed up, Cynthia was told he was a worthless male and needed to be punished! Whereas his pleas and splutters were not heard outside the sound-proofed basement, they were counted against him; each noise to merit a further stroke later on.
Released from the stool, but with his hands cuffed, young Cynthia visited each seated female in turn. Grovelling at their feet with his penis awkwardly slapping against the inner knees, his appeals to show mercy were met with stern looks as the ladies respectively reached for their chosen instruments of humiliation and torture.
Irrespective of having his throbbing cock mishandled, trodden on and stabbed with stiletto heels, next he was laid on his back and strapped to the bed frame. The frenzied females were invited to unfasten their skirts and discard their panties to ride the slave for sexual gratification. Whereas some fitted strap-on dildos around their waists and waited for Cynthia to be re-positioned on his front. With the wine flowing and the women in a state of undress, some ladies found it impossible to hold back their bi-curiosity feelings - thus intensifying an orgy of drunkenness, sexual depravity and unbound cruelty to the defenceless slave tethered to the bed.
Cynthia was lucky to have survived the harrowing ordeal, whereas the ladies looked forward to the next punishment session.'
I have to admit that Whip writes a good narrative for it made me feel hot and wet. I shall call for female maid service and have her bathe with me. Two females frolicking amid the soap suds in a sunken bath tub... what bliss. However, when I demanded why Whip had written a few paragraphs, rather than just a few lines, he whimpered that he got carried away. Be rest assured. Such ill-discipline deserves corporal punishment of the harshest kind in my book. And I shall see to his buttocks - with my new braided leather quirt, I think - before my female maid sees to me.
Checked and sent unsigned.
Jennifer a.k.a. Severa
Thank you for your letter Jennifer. It is always a pleasure to have the opportunity to publish one of your adventures, your letter illustrates the variety to which this lifestyle can venture. Each woman that comes to realize their power, their expression is uniquely their own, many choose petticoating while others take a more dominant approach, we at PDQ support all forms of expression. I'm sure that readers will also appreciate that sissies and slaves are at the most basic still male and protection of their superior comes naturally.