Category Archives: sm-Erotica

Poetry and Prose themed D/s, BDSM, and Strict Motivation, by yours sincerely, Sir MEaner

a little Daddy Christmas poem

Daddy, Daddy, the lil’ one asks
like their life depends just on that task

Daddy, Daddy, answer me

what will i find, under the tree?

Will Santa bring me: awesome toys

a dolly truck, that makes some noise?

Will I get stuffies or that doll

and candy chocolates galore?

will there be a little house

and a neat new pink-purple blouse?

Daddy, Daddy: I confess

I also need a mermaid dress!

and my coat looks all too worn

and please, I need a unicorn!

and then adds with whiny tone

Daddy, I wanna new phone!

Daddy listens, Daddy smiles

He has not heard that in a while

But when the tone gets all too shrill

Daddy cools down that too much thrill!

Come here, My lil one, listen please

Daddy speaks to the little tease

So many wishes, you have told

Are you sure, that you’re not spoiled?

No! no pouting – little one…

I know you just want to have fun

you did not mean it, getting wild

acting like an – ungrateful – child!



I know, My lil one, you have big eyes

and as not to spoil the surprise

while there is no guarantee

what Santa packs under the tree


I heard the angels as they say

Father Christmas has His ways

I heard the elders, who are wise

Yet only for children, who are nice!

Being nice, not tantrum dance

waiting, showing some patience

even though, it’s quite some wait

showing still some self restraint!


I also hear the Elves, they whisper…

Naughty children meet with Mister

Mister Wooden, Spoon or Brush…

better be patient and do not rush!



appeasement of a war zone (NSFW.M/F)


She arrived home late today. the zombie shift had been horrible, a veritable nightmare, once more. All those freaking idiots all over the place. As if it was not hard enough dealing with too many patients with too few people. No, now the visitors needed pillows to sit on with their damn fat asses. No consideration, that the nurses, getting the visitors another cushion had to leave the station and run across half the building to get them. No consideration for them being actually needed to take care of your family and relatives. Bring your effing own pillow, or sit on your all too fat asses, and quit bitching! she fumed to herself, replaying her angry thoughts. And than the doctors. What the fuck do they know anyhow. She was a nurse and knew that medication was ill advised, how could doc university degree have such a lapse in judgment? But no, the nurses have to do as told, regardless how they will be the ones cleaning the mess up… literally.

She slammed the door to her house so hard it swung back open. Shut you fucking bitch! she roared and slammed it again, even harder, and now the door knob fell off. “Oh for fucks sake” she thundered, knowing from past time incidents, this would cause another steep handyman bill from the money so hard earned. She kicked the door frame in frustration, and saw stars. OWWWWWWWWWW she wailed, instinctively rubbing her throbbing toe in her sandal she had just hurt.

This day was going to be a real hell, she self pitiedly muttered under her breath, while hopping off to the living room, to take a look at the damage she had just caused to her toe. The white sock she was obliged to wear as part of her nurse uniform already started to stain in burgundy, promising this becoming an ugly site to see. Well it felt like living hell, why would it not look like it too? she thought sarcastically as she inspected the broken nail stuk inward that super sensitive skin, now pierced by it.

**you better get that looked after and disinfected, young lady** she heard that voice say in her head, that voice, that was calm but nonchalant, annoyed and concerned all at the same time. that annoying voice she cared NOT to hear in this very moment. that voice that she would just put aside, and switch on some game show or food network on the TV and forget the whole fiasco of a work shift from hell. It was not her fault, the damn coworkers were late. It was not her fault, the people were being idiots. It was not her fault, the stupid door knob wouldn’t be fixable to some stupid door, and it was totally unfair, that she had broken her toe nail and slit open her toe, and was bleeding. She would just let the blood clean the wound out, and take care of it later, she was a nurse and knew more about these things than even the fucking doctors, so there.

**I was not asking, I was telling!** the voice continued, and she started shaking her head *no* in slow motion as if she was trying to shake a nightmare of drowning under water. No, this was ^never the fuck ever just a voice in her head, because her own replay of THAT voice in her head would not have used that catchphrase, that tone of voice with her, anyway. If this as a voice within she’d rip it a new one, and muffled it with chocolate and chips and ice cream and a snicker bar or 5. She closed her eyes tentatively. Deep breath. This cannot be happening. He had no keys to her house. He had not been in here uninvited ever. Her house was locked down, windows secured when she had arrived, and the door knob was OK before she had slammed the door shut, kinda, which still was not her fault, but still…

A shiver ran down her spine. No, it could not possibly be Him in person. How the fuck would that have been possible anyhow? No, it must had been her inner voice, telling her, inviting her, to do eat all the good stuff. Because let’s face it, OK? She had pulled off 3 nights of 12 hour shifts at work over the week-end. And she had still the household to do and all the groceries stuff and her car needed oil and she would have to go to that jerk of a garage guy giving her smirk looks and lecturing about proper car maintenance blah blah, just because she was a nurse, and a woman, and not a bloody car mechanic. And she did not want to. And now she would have to get the carpenter involved, again, and have him ask her all sorts of questions about how such a solid door could have so much trouble locking and if she is sure, that no brutal force had been used, possibly by one of her kids?

She deserved the Snickers. Matter of fact, she would hop to the kitchen, and get herself the half gallon Blue Bell Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough container, it will help her cool herself down, and ice is good for swelling toes too. So there, problem solved. Yes, she had bought it originally, to welcome home her babies who’d arrive from the summer camp tomorrow afternoon, but she’d just buy a new container for them in time. She needed a reward. She deserved it. She had fought in that war-zone, and had the scars to proof it. With a deep sigh and a pain twitched face she got up from the recliner, and hobbled over to the kitchen, getting a table spoon and her Blue Bell reward. She threw the lid on the counter and it bounced off the wall falling face down on the floor. She shrugged her shoulders. The floors are dirty anyway, whats one thing more on the ground, and sighed, knowing she had to wipe the floors too, before the kids would come home. Yeah, she needed the ice cream and she did deserve that treat, the poor, limping Cinderella she were.

She just collapsed in the recliner and starting eating the ice cream, closing her eyes at this rush of sugar and flavors soothing her nerves. oh my God, this was the heaven she deserved! She dug the spoon deeply into the ice masses and shoveled the treat into her mouth eagerly, eyes closed still, gulping down the sweetness, one load full after the other. This was not enjoying the flavors, at this point, this was shutting down and stuffing her feelings.

And then the spoon tried to dig into the container, but the container was gone. She opened her eyes, finding the container soiling the recliner and floor, leaving a sweet messy stain that would be a bitch to clean up. For fucks sake, not only was she wasting that delicious ice cream, now she would have to get her butt up again, and deep clean the sofa and floor in vain hopes she can salvage the recliner. But before she could even think straight, that voice thundered at her, startling her profoundly.

**Missie, when I give an order it will be followed through with, or you will be finding yourself at the receiving end of so much trouble, your mess up here will feel like a walk on the beach!**

And as she opened her eyes, looking up from the mess in the living room, her eyes could see, what her brain was trying to block out. And her eyes widened, and her mouth dried up, and her lips trembled as her jaw dropped, and it was barely a whisper that escaped her throat, which felt suddenly like tied up…

*oh no, it IS **#SpankieMonster**, threatening doom, standing in the door*






Get what you deserve 

Ever get tingly when watching or reading spankerotica or discipline stories thinking what that may feel like? Become a protagonist not just a spectator and just get what you deserve. Long distance discipline from a experienced, safe, versed and caring disciplinarian and life coach.

#StrictMotivation #AlternativeLifestyleTraining


#SSC  #scolding #spanking/#soaping #cornertime. Those familiar to it – certainly those in My care – know what this is all about. Those racing contradictory emotions. The dread and the isolation of confinement. The dullness as time drags its leaded feet. the echo of the voice lecturing. The drilling questioning of a thorough interrogation about motives and motivations. The haunting memory of *that look* of dismay from the One in charge. 

The apprehension of the implements and the bitter sensations they are about to deliver. That shiver down the spine and that tension… If this cornerthing could just be over with… But it will be soon: too soon and then this deserted empty dreadful place will feel like a safe harbour rather not to be left for what will be coming next will be by far much more impressive… 

#StrictMotivation #wejustgetbetter 

School Bully & #SpankieMonster


Debbie was in a mood. That mood. Again. That mood where everything was upside down and wrong and it was everybody else’s fault. So there. The only break from her bad mood was to say those forbidden cuss words. In her head. To herself.  Well, not at herself, though.

School fucking sucks. Who invented school and tutors and lessons and school yards and those Goddamned bullies anyway?  Whoever invented school must be some freaking, no wait, some fucking asshole. There you go! What a fucking, fucked up, fucking, fuck up, this fucking school idea was… Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck shit, outta luck, fuck the duck, the fucking fuck, to the fucking fuckity fuck!

She’d keep fuckity, fucking, fuck it all, all the time and then some, she had decided. As if going to the fucking school and following all the fucking, fucked up rules wasn’t fucking annoying enough, the new teacher had started making fucking fun out of her sister Anna, and there was no Goddamn fucking way for Debbie to help her sister without getting in a fuckload of fucking trouble herself.

She was this fucking close to not giving a fuck and to fucking slashing the fucking tires of the fucking fuckmobile the fucked up fucking teacher was driving to teach that fucking bitch a lesson about not fucking over her sister. Yes, Anna was a know it all Missy goodie two shoes and Debbie fucking sometimes wanted to strangle Anna herself.  But that doesn’t give any fucking teacher the fucking right to ridicule her sister.  Debbie would just slash the tires and cut the brake lines if she only fucking could get a-fucking-hold of a fucking knife, but of course, this fucked up school with its fucking rules had all fucking sharp objects under fucking lock and key so she was condemned to fucking sulk impotently in the fucking restroom and having a fucking, fucked up mood. All the fucks! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

“Deborah Felicia Hivenstein!” the voice thundered out of nowhere. Debbie froze mid word “Fah… WHAAAATTTT?”

She knew that the sequence of first name, middle name and last name meant not only anything good, it meant real big trouble.  But what is much worse: it wasn’t the voice of the new teacher nor Anna, not the voice of the principal, not even another teacher, not the janitor nor any classmate. For fuck’s sake, Debbie would have even preferred at this point it were one of these voices or even that of Daddy or Aunt Gwen roaring those hated triple-name staccato.  But her luck had fucking run out because it was the voice of the one, that she had been trying to avoid like the plague: #SpankieMonster…

“You rang?”  #SpankieMonster said, with a calm, nonchalant, slightly annoyed matter-of-fact tone of voice (a bit like James Bond).  He formed icicles standing around Him, as Debbie’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock and horror.  Her eyes retained a look of shock, but her mouth slowly seemed to regain consciousness long before her body would.  Debbie’s lips started trembling, before forming inaudible words, like she was an actress in a 1920s silent movie. #SpankieMonster could read her lips, her mind, and her body language quite effortlessly.  However, He started tapping one foot as if impatiently waiting for her to press out the words audibly.

To His surprise still, a tear broke the silence and ran down Debbie’s left cheek, loud as thunder in #SpankieMonster’s ears. The tear passed down her cheek, creeping around her lips which were now slowly closing into a frown.  Before the single drop of salty tears tumbled down her chin ready to fall off into the abyss, His leather gloved hand shot to her face as if a frog’s quick tongue rushing for a fly. Just as the teardrop started to fall, His fingertip captured it. For a brief millisecond, Debbie’s tear glimmered like a brilliant diamond on His fingertip before He closed His fingers into a fist, hiding that treasure of His to keep (and for her not know about it joining His collection of tears).

“How dare you, young lady, use such foul language on a bright day as this in a building dedicated to learning what matters at life?” He inquired, His head slightly tilted, His eyes drilling past any defences.

Much to His horror, Debbie’s defiant old self just returned as quickly as her tear had spilled out just a moment before.

“Bright day, my ass!” she spat out her words into His face, like it wasn’t that Scary Monster standing before her, in the middle of the washroom at her school. As if He could not magically produce gooey bars of soap out of thin air, or conjure all the paddles, straps, bath brushes and whips needed to teach errant girls and boys the wrongs of their ways. As if neither hot sauce nor ginger, diapers and enemas were a thing in His world, that could make hurty appearances and be administered effortlessly at any place and time #SpankieMonster would appear when summoned by misbehaviour.

#SpankieMonster’s hand reached out, quick like silver, and grabbed Debbie’s ear lobe, yanking it upwards, so that Debbie felt like her earlobe would either tear off or the Monster would pull her up off her toes (or both, in no particular order).  Before she knew what was happening, Debbie was marched – dragged rather – towards the sink.  She could see the defiant expression on her face turn into a painfilled grimace in the mirror.  At this point, Debbie did not know if she was praying someone would come in and hopefully rescue her from this Monster or if she was praying no one would come in to see her in this predicament.  Regardless of which prayer it was, Debbie was praying all the Hail Marys, Heavenly Fathers and any other prayer she could remember, seeing the face of #SpankieMonster glaring at her reflection with the look of mixed disappointment and disgust that she knew meant huge trouble.

The faucet started running, as if it was just as afraid of the wrath unfolding as the poor trembling girl. Meanwhile, SpankieMonster’s free hand produced a bar of soap out of nowhere.  By the orange look of it, this soap was of the bad, bad, bad, bad girl variety: Dial.  The bar was soaked in the running water and it burst into cascades of soapy bubbles.  Soon, the soap was on the way to the girl’s face.  It effortlessly invaded her mouth, passing her pursed lips and knocking ungently – urgently – at her tightly clenched teeth.

“Now — this can go the easy way, with you cooperating, or the harsh way, with you trying My patience, young lady, and, oh boy, will you hate it if you choose the latter!”

Debbie got informed with that methodical, cold voice. Her parted lips started trembling again and another army of tears rushed into both her eyes.  Her tears spilt over, tracing the path of multiple hot rivers down her cheeks. True, she had been slightly overusing the bad word.  Ok, quite a lot, but she had every reason to be effing upset.  And now she would get punished, meanwhile her sister was being made fun off, and the world could go to hell now!

To her surprise, #SpankieMonster let go of Debbie’s ear and grabbed her by the shoulder. He spun her around, facing Him, and looked her straight in the eye.

“What did you just think?” He demanded.

Debbie froze, realizing He could hear every thought.  She blushed 17 shades of crimson, realizing He had heard probably each and every bad word and bad thought.  But then she had no time to dwell on that because those glowing eyes were invading her mind and it felt like fire melting metal, a horrible kind of pain.

“That the world can go to hell now,” she repeated or confessed.  Debbie sniffled, and swiped her hands across her cheeks, trying to stop the tears still running freely down her face.

“No, before that, about your sister being bullied?  Tell Me all about that, NOW,” SpankieMonster thundered, his voice echoing in the school’s tiled washroom.

And so, she did. Confess, or tattle or rather answer His question as truthfully as she could. About that university student working in her class as a practicum teacher.  Her name was Miss Victoria, and she had been making fun of Anna for her second name after reading it on the attendance sheet the first day.

“What is wrong with Marjorie? It is a beautiful name!  It suits Anna well!”

“Miss Victoria says it sounds like Margarine….” Debbie mumbled, hanging her head helplessly.

#SpankieMonster put the bar of soap away as effortlessly as it had first appeared. There would be plenty time enough to deal with Debbie’s verbal diarrhoea outburst of all the f-words later, in the privacy of her home. But right now, He would have to intervene on Anna’s behalf and have that talk with that Miss Victoria, who was abusing her newly minted authority to bully a child, one of His children no less!

From the depth of His coat, SpankieMonster produced a soft cotton handkerchief and helped Debbie blow her nose.  He dried her eyes and captured all her tears like the treasures they were. He gently brushed Debbie’s hair from her face.  Then, He produced a wooden hairbrush out of nowhere and Debbie froze, but He had no intention to hurt her with it. Instead he brushed her hair back, making it look neat and orderly.

“Lead the way to that Miss Victoria, young lady.”  He commanded, grasping Debbie’s hand tightly.  “I need to give her a little chat about abusing her power.”

They left the washroom together.  Debbie walked down the hallway, a little bit awkwardly at first, but then more and more confident. When she noticed all her school mates shying away from them, she gained confidence.  No one was going to mess with the girl who had a Monster with her.  For his part, #SpankieMonster followed two steps behind Debbie, so everyone would see that she is showing the way, and not being dragged by that fierce looking visitation such as Himself.

Some of the other students backed to the walls, covering their buttocks or thighs, as best as they could, upon this scary sight.  Other pupils paled and one other of his girls almost wet herself when she saw Him walking past her.  She had just smoked a cigarette in the locker room. His eyes were like a face slap to that girl and she knew she’d be sorry she had had that smoke later, but for now, #SpankieMonster would not get distracted.

They arrived at the library, where Anna was sitting, heartbroken, ringed by her silent friends.  In among all the books, there were laughing classmates pointing fingers at Anna, chanting an ugly chant.

“Anna Margarine, Anna Margarine, stale palm fat, no dairy queen!”  They jeered at her.

But worst of all, these bullies were spurred on by the student teacher Miss Victoria, who was clapping her hands delightedly.

Debbie looked at #SpankieMonster for help and guidance. She has never seen Him in a state of alertness like this before.  She even felt a tiny little bit sorry for Miss Victoria (Vicky she was starting to call her), but only just a little. 

When SpankieMonster noticed Debbie’s gaze, He bent down to her, thanked her for her help and gestured that she should go and stand by her sister.

“So, young lady, Miss Victoria Roberta Vondall, you believe it is acceptable, to bully and help bully a child under your care? How do you make this misbehaviour even remotely OK with yourself huh?” SpankieMonster thundered over the children’s margarine taunts.

“What are saying to your sorry self that justifies making fun out of a student, so her classmates may think you are cool? Are you not attending university to learn becoming a civilized member of society? How dare you bring shame on your university professors, your parents, this school (your employer) and each and every decent human being for that matter?”  SpankieMonster’s scolding was horrid.  He was also only getting started.

“How dare you giving impressionable young children a bad example in anti-social despicable behaviour? What is wrong with YOU that you seem to believe this was a bright and acceptable idea and not the misconduct, the criminal behaviour it truly is?”

“Well, no matter what you were telling yourself, how you are entitled to ridicule a student under your wing, it ends, it ends here and now and you will be the sorriest girl in the northern hemisphere long before I am halfway done with you!!!”

“Usually, young missie, I would not shame you before your students, but since you had no qualms to make fun of Anna in front of her peers I will set the necessary moral example and punish you, severely in front of all of them, so they may learn, that bullies and other anti-social aggressors do get it in the end!”

Out of no-where a fierce looking drilled oak wooden paddle appeared in SpankieMonster’s hand. The young errant teacher cringed and wanted to protest, but #SpankieMonster had nothing of it.

He grabbed the protesting student teacher by a fistful of her hair and pressed her torso down on the librarian’s book stand. Magically, her trousers and panties fell to her ankles, revealing her plump derriere.

Without any warning, the paddling began.  It started leaving bright red marks after each fierce slap landing on her quivering flesh.

#SpankieMonster kept scolding the student teacher about her poor choice of behaviour as he lay one cherry-coloured red mark next to the other.

The drilled air holes made a strange concerto for pipes and flutes, and the teacher was singing arias of pain, but #SpankieMonster was not impressed.  Whenever Miss Victoria tried to get away from a deserved swat, He would paddle her thighs, leaving crimson marks on that more sensitive skin. After what seemed an eternity, the paddling finally stopped.

Now it was time to wash the naughty student teacher’s mouth out with soap in front of the deeply impressed and shocked audience.

#SpankieMonster explained to the students that bullies always get their mouth soaped out with ivory soap, even if they would be allergic to it.

“Don’t commit the crime, if you cannot pay the price,” He commented, shoving the square white bar of soap into the mouth of the helpless teacher.

She wanted to spit or gag or both but He relentlessly kept shoving the soap into the mouth, making sure there would be not one corner of her mouth left out.  Leaving the bar in place, He then used a scarf to tie the soap in place as a gag.

Then, out came the rattan cane, a dragon cane at that.

“I will not bully anyone!” was the affirmation line, Miss Victoria would have to say, despite the soapy gag. The cuts of the cane would not count unless she counted them properly.  And then the cane started to swish and slice the air and land on her backside, cutting into her flesh. Angry welts rose where the cane had landed, and hellfire broke loose across her skin.

Little Miss Victoria (and anyone else witnessing the scene) would never bully anyone again!

(c) 2017

friendly edited by @kb ~ thank you ~


so softly a Dominant cries

no punishment will ever equal the pain
a loving Dominant feels
when what is His has rendered Him helpless
made to suffer as He’d watch and feel
His property hurting
We do not talk about this pain
how it shatters Our heart
and when We dole out a punishment
it is to allow Us and them
a fresh new start
but the scar remains on Our heart
a reminder for that brutal pain
when they, under Our watch
fell apart




#StrictMotivation #wejustgetbetter

Daddy’s Discipline: like a summer storm

As much, as it hurts to get Daddy’s Discipline it also soothes and resets and can be quite healing. I may compare it to a summer thunderstorm: yes it is loud, and harsh at times, it has a certain violence to it, but at the end the air is cleared, and the ground has been fertilized (or watered anyway). Thus, Daddy’s Discipline becomes not just a renewer but also a catalyst for excelling to the higher standard after its reception.
#StrictMotivation #wejustgetbetter (c)