Back in the day, discipline was unyielding and unwielding. The matriarchs who ran the household, did not tolerate any insolence or insubordinate conduct. No sass, no hesitation, no whining, no wimpering. The paddle was always visible, hanging on a hook or nail on the wall. And, as you can see, these ladies were all business.
Now, the type of punishment, duration of same, and the implement of choice, varied, depending on the offenses committed. Peeking or peeping was usually wrestling pins, fanny presses, sensory deprivation, being forced to inhale the scent of the knickers.
Here, you see correction much more severe. The paddle, hair or bathbrush was employed. Even the intern nurses administered a "softening up" for those unruly patients, who did not adhere to their dietary regimens.
What really brought down 50 plus swats, however, was "sniffing around in the panty drawer." Again, notice the aversion of perversion. By forcing him to wear the object of his fetish--her knickers--on his face, shameful enough, while he is getting battered on his bum, the therapy here is that the object of his pleasure, shall now be the object of his pain, i.e. he won't go sniffing anymore. Of course, this procedure takes weeks, months, sometimes, its an ongoing therapy that never ends.
Sometimes, she catches him actually wearing the fabric, messing the drawers with his filthy sweat and then soiling them with his germ-ladened spunk. No matter what the shame or humiliation, she must cure him of this fetish. Below, witness another, actual patient account, of his affinity for knickers and what the girls do about it when he misbehaves. Vid is also dealing with F/m paddling, otk and bare-bottom spanking.
I was at a club with a couple of my friends, my cousin and some of her friends. We were all having a good night, dancing away, drinking and generally having fun. Now, my cousin was obsessed with me getting with her friend Barbara, whom I had no interest in at all. Anyway, I carried on dancing with another girl I'd met in the club, when my cousin, for some evil reason, came up and said, "he's with me," at which the girl left me and we started bitching.
Now, the type of punishment, duration of same, and the implement of choice, varied, depending on the offenses committed. Peeking or peeping was usually wrestling pins, fanny presses, sensory deprivation, being forced to inhale the scent of the knickers.
Here, you see correction much more severe. The paddle, hair or bathbrush was employed. Even the intern nurses administered a "softening up" for those unruly patients, who did not adhere to their dietary regimens.
What really brought down 50 plus swats, however, was "sniffing around in the panty drawer." Again, notice the aversion of perversion. By forcing him to wear the object of his fetish--her knickers--on his face, shameful enough, while he is getting battered on his bum, the therapy here is that the object of his pleasure, shall now be the object of his pain, i.e. he won't go sniffing anymore. Of course, this procedure takes weeks, months, sometimes, its an ongoing therapy that never ends.
Sometimes, she catches him actually wearing the fabric, messing the drawers with his filthy sweat and then soiling them with his germ-ladened spunk. No matter what the shame or humiliation, she must cure him of this fetish. Below, witness another, actual patient account, of his affinity for knickers and what the girls do about it when he misbehaves. Vid is also dealing with F/m paddling, otk and bare-bottom spanking.
I was at a club with a couple of my friends, my cousin and some of her friends. We were all having a good night, dancing away, drinking and generally having fun. Now, my cousin was obsessed with me getting with her friend Barbara, whom I had no interest in at all. Anyway, I carried on dancing with another girl I'd met in the club, when my cousin, for some evil reason, came up and said, "he's with me," at which the girl left me and we started bitching.
Not long after this, Barbara started pretending to be ill and asked me if I was going to take her home. I refused, but called a taxi and stuffed her in it. My cousin Lisa asked where Barbara was and I said , "I called her a cab and sent her home." We started bitching again, at which point, I left the club. Unfortunately, I was heading to my cousin's house, as this club was in her town.
I went to bed and had been snoozing for some time, when Lisa arrived home along with her girls. They came into my room & pounced on me. Lisa started giving me abuse again about leaving Barbara. I was pinned down by these girls, at this point. Suddenly, one of the other girls, Dawn said "he was more interested in getting into that other girl's pants than looking after Barbara."
Lisa quipped, "if he wants to get into a girls pants. he can". She then moved forward and sat on my face. One of the other girls said, "make him smell your knickers." Lisa replied, "he's got no choice anyway,... he's trapped under my skirt and his nose is stuck into my knickers..... so he's going to be sniffing them"
They all started laughing. I tried to turn my head away from her scent, but Lisa just forced it back in and said, "you wanted to get into a girls knickers, so get to smelling mine...... Take a good sniff of them." The laughter continued. After a bit, one of the other girls said, "he must be sick of having to sniff your knickers." Taking the cue, Lisa lifted up a bit and asked me if I was.
I confirmed and Dawn said, "he's sick of smelling your knickers....... Move off him and he can smell mine instead." I thought she was joking, but the next thing, I find Lisa moving off me and quick as a flash, Dawn moved forward, lines her knickers up with my face and drops her skirt over my head.
I found myself engulfed in some bright pink knickers, having to smell yet another sweaty pair of pants. All the girls took turns,..... I lost track of time, but I certainly didn't forget my first experience of having to sniff knickers. To this day, I know what girls are capable of, so don't under-- estimate them.
No comments:
Post a Comment