LET THE PUNISHMENT FIT THE INFRACTION--VINTAGE DOMESTIC DISCIPLINE

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.

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.

THE PEEPER KNOWS NO BOUNDS--ALL LADIES GIRD THY LOINS

Behold the parfait of lovely ladies here. We have MILF's, Asian girls, acrobatic girls, bountiful racks, girls & girls next door at home. The pure and innocent and chaste girls being wankered to and objectified by this peeping filth. And note----the fur. What a find these pics were. How rare it is to find a nice, furry, fuzzy, "warm up your ears", silken, shiny, flaxen hair.




We have caldean girls, mixed race girls, lovely nubian queens, any size, shape, heritage or origin is here. And more to come. The perver does not care what color or type of shell is on the outside of the M & M. They want to get into that peanutty center. Amazons, big butts, bubble butts, temple booties, all objects of his gutteral fixations.




Consider the origins here---shower, relaxing at home on the couch, erotic, backyard exercise, peeking over the fence or through the bushes to see her sun-drenched nudity glistening to the point of blindness. And how sweet their smiles are. Only a prelude. As you see, "if you want to look at my fanny.....if you want to perv at my panties.....then you'll get a faceful of fanny & panties. And, its on.




As promised, we have a panel of international therapists, who deal with this type of dysfunction and are partnering up to show the ladies how they can enact some of these techniques to train, tame and shame their peeker of choice or target. The following "confession" was told, under intense interrogation, to one of the ladies in action here.





I was beaten by my niece when she was 18. She is a good looking girl, with a great body, not muscular or anything like that. We just had a friendly argument and she said: "You wanna go?" I said sure, not taking her seriously. She was serious however and kicked me in the stomach, not too hard, but hard enough for me to double over.




That gave her the chance to put me in a headlock, my head was pressed against her boobs which felt good and weird at the same time. Bent over like this, in her hold, I was able to pull on one of her legs and made her lose her balance. We both fell to the floor, but she managed to keep me in the headlock, no matter how hard I tried to get out. Next thing I knew I feel her legs wrap around my waist and she started to squeeze making it even harder for me to breathe. This wasn't going very well, I was surprised how she had me in trouble so quickly, even if we were similar in height and weight. I'm maybe 15 lbs heavier.




Because of the effect of her scissor hold, she let the headlock go, but I was trapped between her legs, which by the way, were dressed in black tights under a mini-skirt. She said: "Want to say uncle dear uncle?" I said no and kept trying to get out of her hold, while she was laughing at me the whole time. I was getting really tired in her hold and when she realized that she let go and straddled me, sitting on top of me, pinning my wrists to the floor above my head. Her low cut shirt had her boobs almost in my face.

She laughed again and said: "Looks like I got you, and there is nothing you can do about it. I guess I'm stronger then you! Do you want to give up now, before I become too heavy or before somebody walks in and sees you helplessly under me?" I struggled, bucking my hips, but all that did was move her higher up on my heaving chest. She put her knees on my arms and kept me pinned, my head firmly between her thighs, her crotch almost against my chin. She stuffed her short skirt in between her crotch and my chin, put her hands on her hips and looked down on me smiling: "Just give, cause you have just been beaten by your niece." Too beaten to do anything else I just said: " I give."

Analysis----This is where and how shame begins. Right at home. In most cases, a sibling rivalry from removed members of any given family. No doubt, the penitant here, had prior transgressions, (peeping upskirt, notice he mentioned it), so she decided to give him a nice view of it.

But, just as we detailed in prior entries, the verbal shame and the apprehension of others walking in on the match, terrified this filth boy and caused him to submit, perhaps earlier than he had planned. Totally outmatched in wrestling skills, he was weakened before the taunting ever took place.

However, for future matches----keep sitting on him. Call your girlfriends and invite them over. Wait until other household members walk in, then tell them why you are shaming this slug in the manner that you are. Remember girls---the shame is just as important as the pain.

A PEEPER'S INITIATION TO CAMPUS LIFE--ALL THE PICTURES TELL THE STORY, DON'T IT?

"What does he do?.............He covets.....he covets what he sees every day." Hannibal was right on the money. Behold the sniveling wimp boy. He would love nothing more than to play with Ms. Angela here. But, he is a wimpy pervert, not a man. Angela opts for the big boys.

However, he is one of the little pests we allude to in this series. Ladies, you can relate to the frail snit who is so annoying, you walk around school with a fly swatter in your back pack. Every place you go, he seems to materialize out of thin air. He does this because he wants to "sneeky peeky." He is waiting for that sliver of chance to take a nice look up your skirt.

When rebuffed, he throws his tantrum like you see here. Spreading rumors and lies about his fetish, soiling her reputation. Well, Ms. Angela is not going to tolerate this type of conduct. She has decided to give him a dose of corrective, aversion therapy, and do it outdoors, where others can watch the shame from afar.

Ladies, remember--the verbal taunting, teasing and humiliation, is just as vital to his therapy, as the actual, physical, rough, wrestling and pinning you shall administer to him. His feelings of terror are magnified because he cannot extricate himself from the sight he sees---your scent and slice, mere inches from his filthy face.

Commonly called "queening," this is where you alight upon your throne---his face. Make it raw, chafe it by moving yourself around, such that he cannot even take a drink of water, the rawness is so intense. Remember--he is terrified of being caught. Once he gets a faceful of fanny, front and related holds of restriction, he futiley struggles to run away.

In order to train him properly, he gets every type of facial abuse you can administer. He brutally receives the object of his fetish---on your terms. His terms are sneeking and peeking and perving and wankering. Once you expose his foibles, literally smear his mug into it, just like paper training your dog, he will learn to become compliant to you.

Over time, you shall learn to regulate his very being, his very existence. And the ultimate rush for the ladies-----regulating his wankering and release. Some ladies have said that this type of control is better than a climax themselves. The ultimate goal is to tame, train, shame and eventually totally domesticate.

A current honors student of ours, a MENSA girl, go figure, has only had fleeting thoughts about this type of fare. The thirst and eagerness to embrace and learn. An IQ of near 160 and she did not know what Otk or Cbt, edge/breath play was. Once the code was broken, she was so into it, that you could have swore she got wet pants, on the other end of the line.

When you become their "fix," the process is complete. If, and certainly when, the time may come, where you have to trade him in for a newer model, or better yet, have to explain to him, that you are stocking a stable of towel boys, that adjustment should be easier to implement. For now, enjoy.

About the viddy tutorial below---Relish how she forces herself into his face, but on her terms. Give him just one quickie look and taste, then its back to the scent of her magnificent knickers. With this type of sensory deprivation, he shall only "remember" your scent. This works wonders when he gets the temptation to stray and peek someplace else. And the outside shame. Look how the big boys tries to avoid the hi crotch pinfall. He cannot. He cried after this match, losing to a girl.