Thursday, October 16, 2014

Visual inspirations for spanking stories: black lace around the ankles redux

(See here for an explanation of this series)

"Panties down, and on your knees, now, Marta."

It was horribly embarrassing to hear the words right there in the unfinished cottage, with the carpenters watching from only a few yards away. Josef, unhappy with the way Marta had said "Josef, it's time to go," had called to them "Watch this!" before he had replied to her, and they had turned in surprise to see him put his hand in her hair, and to hear him say it. Despite the humiliation Marta quivered with that mix of shame and arousal she knew so well, because she always knew exactly what was going to be required of her when Josef said "Panties down, and on your knees," and she knew she must always obey, or risk Josef's even greater displeasure, and worse and more shameful punishment.

Trembling, she obeyed. She hiked up the short black skirt she had on, and pulled her panties down all the way, revealing the smooth, prim tip of her sex in front, and her firm cheeks behind. Josef made a little twirling gesture with his finger, and, red-faced, she had to turn around slowly while the carpenters hooted and Josef smiled lustfully. Then, with his hand on her head already, she got to her knees in front of him, waiting to be given permission to uncover him so she could provide him with the pleasure that was his right, whenever he wanted to take it.

The floor was wood, and it hurt to kneel on it, and she knew how stiff she was going to be when Josef finally let her go, but the pain in her knees was the last thing on her mind, because Josef had taken off his belt, and was holding it, doubled, ready to make sure he disciplined her properly, and brought her to the limits of her abilities. Through the pain and the degradation she loved knowing that Josef would never let her get away with not trying to be a better slave for him, that he would always train her up, giving her the belt while with his left hand around the back of her head he moved her mouth on him, until he had released himself into her mouth, and had released her head to let her crumple into a submissive ball, in front of the carpenters, at his feet.


For me at least the essential hotness in this one is absolutely clear: the lowering of panties has an almost mystical quality for me, many times. It's very strange to think about how recent a development this close fitting undergarment actually is (less than eighty years old in anything like its present form) and yet how very, very fundamental to so many of my (and, I'm pretty sure others') fantasies.

Panties, in my fantasies, never go around the ankles unless a Master has so decreed. A Master so decrees because he know how it makes his sub feel to have a constant reminder, around her ankles, that she has had to pull her panties down (and of course she has had to pull her panties down because her Master told her to pull them down).

Why did he tell her to pull them down? To enjoy the view; to get access to her backside for discipline, should he wish to discipline her; perhaps more than anything else to make sure she knows that her charms, front and back, belong to him, and that they will be exposed in his presence to signify that she has no right to cover them.

Incidentally, I think that's almost certainly why lace panties in general are my go-to garment for my paricular genre of BDSM fantasy-elaboration: they are a veil that never ceases to show. It's a very small step, given how overdetermined by culture our garments are, to imagining that that false veil has been imposed by an authority-structure (or, in more common and specific terms, a Master): and it's of course that placement of the object (the girl--me) within the authority-structure, her modesty always about-to-be violated, that makes everything hot. As always, it's not the garment; it's what the garment means. (So too with the thong--the covering that isn't a covering.)

The thing that turns that essential hotness up a notch for me is the wood floor. Where are they? I thought of several candidates, but I decided to go with the unfinished look of it so that I could add in the carpenters watching. I suppose one could argue that the carpenters aren't implied by the picture (just as the spanking might not have been implied by the lace and chocolate last week), but after some thought it really does seem to me that a key part of the picture's special charm is the way that floor (and the light contributes greatly here as well) seems to speak of a place more rustic and more exposed than where you would expect a girl to be ordered to take her panties down and get to her knees (say, a bedroom or even a living-room). I hope my carpenters bring out that quality.

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