"Don't hang your head in sorrow and please don't cry..."

It is easy to suggest to a girl that she should not not cry in a catfight or in a spanking session. I am telling of tears, weeping, motivated by the the antepenultimate post (http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2015/08/a-prolonged-illness-was-cause-of.html), especially the first pic in it, where a lovely orange-haired girl is about to cry and wet her cheeks...

I believe that both extreme pain or prolonged and excessive humiliation can lead a woman to a weeping cry. After all, who is enough strong inside to block this ultimate demonstration of inferiority?

Personally, I succumbed at least two times to the weakness of dropping shameful tears: the first time it was caused by the excruciating pain and the feeling of an endless humiliation at Donna Lucrezia's hands (http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/12/sing-o-goddess-anger-of-donna-lucrezia.html) and, regarding the second experience, I consider it the most humiliating one of my life, because of - among other factors like pain and verbal abuse - the fully exposition in public at Fatima's mercy (http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/11/when-it-rains-it-pours.html).

Nevertheless, I had to admit (for example, in http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/11/cry-baby-cry-make-me-sigh.html and http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/11/im-sorry-dear-so-sorry-dear-im-sorry-i.html) that tears are quite expressive and exciting to the observer - perhaps to the tormentor and never to the victim).

I have some beautiful pics of weeping spankees, like those:

 

 

My feminine way of looking the world is fascinated with a lot of details here, like the way the poor victim grabs the sheet in order to endure the pain, her beautiful long nails matching perfectly with the scene, the half-mast panties, the cruel regard of the spanker, with her old-fashioned and masculine watch, the leg kicking, the arm grabbing, the hair pulling and, obviously... the tears! 

I suppose, on the other hand, that boys are probably fascinated only by the victim's ass, are not they? 

Let's talk a little more about tears in the next post...

Still the last spanking...

The last spanking scene really hit me, for the reasons I have mentioned. So, let me enjoy a little bit more the young woman at the same time enhancing her little and nice tits and moving the upper part of her body upwards, in a splendid expression of anguish. The slow motion here makes the scene even more exciting.

And what about a generous dosis of jiggling butt flesh? Wow!

About the last post

A naked spankee is really worth to be seen. I think that it is an important part of a perfect spanking. The last pic of the last post is really great, once the poor spanked girl has only hair elastic bands on, lol.

Some months ago, I posted pics of what I consider an almost perfect spanking (http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/11/an-almost-perfect-spanking.html and http://mysteriousfetishes.blogspot.com/2014/11/another-pics-of-almost-perfect-spanking.html). I have to admit that the pair spanker/spankee were more attractive there than in this one, in which the victim is too childish to my taste. After all, the spanking punishment is reminiscent enough of a childish inferiority, so that it is not necessary to enhance the childish features in the spanked woman.

It is, however, a great spanking scene, with the right of a lovely and charmful feet position from the poor girl, which expresses the anguish of being humiliated in this way.

The arm held behind the victim's back is very exciting too, as it suggests the idea of reluctance, non-consensuality and total domination, does not it? A weeping, groaning and begging spankee is also a great feature...

And, finally, a good corner time is a tasteful dessert...

The Übermensch and the Last Woman - XIV

“Gosh, that butt is unforgettable” – he remembers this every day. At least one or two times a day, that butt is projected into her mind, as if he were seeing it in a power point presentation. “Oh, my”:

But butts there were more... He always remembering...
It was the early morning when they decided to go to bed… to sleep! Full of emotions, fights, memories, cruelty and sex, the day was very tiresome for both lovers. As well for the poor hoochie, who had got the beat down of her life and was transformed in an object to the lovers' delight.
- It is time to let the little child go out – She said, after which it was possible to hear a timid sigh of relief from the unfortunate girl, who had been convicted by her tormentor to a silent obedience.
She undid her artistic installation and made the hoochie crawl round the room for a while, grabbing her by the hair:

"Gosh, how alluring that behind was, while that hottie was in all fours..." - he thought to himself. After whipping moderately the bimbo...

...She compelled her to keep standing up and still, with her back to them:

- It is really a master piece – She said, reading inside him – It would be a pity if I allowed her to go without a live punishment… for you appreciate, my dear.
Saying that, She put the unfortunate hoochie on her knees and gave her a sound handspanking, followed by a paddle one.

Oh, what a lesson for life that poor girl was receiving! A lesson also for him, concerning the human condition. There he had a dominant woman putting another one into nullity, voidness and annihilation. She had reduced another human being into the condition of an object.
It was amazing. The rest of human dignity in that hoochie was expressed only by her moans of pain, or by the Pavlovian and so sexy leg kicking. Her pungent face expression was a monument of humiliation, pain and eroticism, saying to the world that she was suffering and owned under the claws of a superior woman. And he was the only and privileged witness of this lesson.

He was on the verge of an explosive cumming when She controlled her prey by grabbing her hair, whilst fondled abusevely her privates... 

It was the only time in his entire life that he ejaculated hands free, what happened before the proud eyes of his lover...

That really superior woman was a glorious and rare specimen indeed. He could not lose her…
The total annihilation of the hoochie and his own arousing state made him imagine or intuit that the submitted bimbo might have aroused too, as it seemed that her moans were a kind of mixture of pain and pleasure, expressing the enigmatic delight of being completely owned and put to total control under a guiding dominance, which frees her of the futile load of vanity and pride. The film seems until today to pass in his mind...

- Go away, last woman – She sentenced, after the last humiliating slap.
The hoochie insisted in the question, while crying like a toddler:
- Why am… I… a last… woman?
She patted her as if the bimbo were a pet:
- Go away, baby, and grow up a little bit. Perhaps Zarathustra might explain you…
- Does... he live... in Barcelona? - the unfortunate lassie asked about Zarathustra, while heading the door, massaging those splendorous buttocks. When she opened it, she asked naively:
- My clothes?
- Go away in your birth day suit, my dear – said She, pushing gently the poor bimbo into the corridor – Barcelona is well prepared to see you naked – and closed the door.
By the windows, they still could watch the naked and embarrassed lassie going out by the street, slinking alongside the walls:

"Gosh, that butt is unforgettable...". And he always rectify: “Gosh, that butts are unforgettable”. He also thinks that every day. At least one or two times a day, that butts were projected into his mind, as if he were seeing them in a slide show. “Oh, my”. The hoochie's one was the number one, her nude walking by a Barcelona street always finishing, in a more lasted time, the slide presentation... His ex' butt under the Mexican girl pose was the silver medal; and the avenger Japanese girl's one at the claws of her sassy ex deserved the bronze medal...

It must be said, only to register: notwithstanding being he almost dry, they made a last session of sex at dawn, before sleeping for hours…

PS: I miss my ex boyfriend and the moments we fantasize together all of these bêtisses. I played all the female roles, whilst for him there was only one male character... 

"If you can meet with triumph and disaster/And treat those two imposters just the same", girl, you are not talking about punishment...

Coming back to the interdenger issue... If a girl declares war to a boy, the agreed rules are for both of them, obviously. Albeit I had had a mediocre no-barred holds record and a very bad one concerning normal fights, I really hate to be defeated by a woman, by a man or... whoever. The consolation of the stronger physical nature of men is very weak, and concerning being beaten by girls, on one hand it is an alluring feeling to keep a bitch under control, and on the other hand being defeated by another girl is in itself humiliating enough; and once girls love to humiliate their victims, a defeat in a girl-girl contest is much more shameful than a loss against a man.
Althoug the victory is my target, I have to admit that the total defeat is a kind of tranquilizer. We learn our place, we annihilate our will and the futile yearnings of power and become a kind of toy or object at the mercy of our opponent. No desires, no suffering... It is ironic that pain, hate and shame combine together to, in a gap of time, make us internalise a comfortable position from a more than uncomfortable situation.
I only fought against two men: my ex-boyfriend, more than seven hundred times, losing all the matches; and one time against another guy. This will be someday the subject of a post.
I have to admit that the feeling of being punished by a man is sometimes arousing, especially if he puts me in my place by spanking me. He may be a kind of strong macho man, like the one of the pics below, in which he makes a hot brunette cry (lovely bum, lovely legs, lovely lightly prominent belly in the gap of the spanker's thighs...)

He may be, perhaps, another kind of macho, a suburbanlike one. Like this:

Or the one in the pics below. See the way he makes the poor pretty round-butted girl arch downwards in pain, as she points her legs up, and how he pulls her by the hair, making her feeling like a mare in pain and lust.

Not everything is rude manhood, it must be said. The opponent may be an experienced middle-aged man. This one knows how to gently keep the big-butted girl's hand out of the reach of the punishment area, making her beautiful partner kick charmingly her legs and cry...

The another one, besides removing the lower part of her spankee's garment, revealing arousing bum, thighs, legs and feet, make her painties whimsically remain hanging from one on the legs... Oh, my...

Finally, if the spanker puts the girl fully naked, it is a ultimate additional humiliation. In the first post, the spanker extracts from the spankee all her charm in defeat: take a look on these arousing feet, ohhhhhhhhhh, what a charming pose... The later one likes some explicitness, a genital view, why not?, besides the wonderful rear panorama, from butt to legs...

"Sing, O goddess, the anger of" Donna Lucrezia, "that brought countless ills upon" me

To finalise the mature women issue, I have to confess that I am not lucky regarding it... Let me explain.
After my twentieth birthday, my father delivered me an ultimatum:
– Girl, you are getting old. It is time for you to come to your senses. You have finished high but you have been working as shop assistant for three years. Have you ever tought about the future? What do you want in life? You make troubles sometimes, you learn jiu-jutsu with your boyfriend every day. Are these your life goals? Oh, my, go to university, go to the capital city. You have to seize the chance now, once I managed to earn money in the last years. Go to the city, baby, and make love, and sex, not war...
Yes, my dady is a liberal and libertarian guy, I am a lucky daughter... He was right, except for the sex issue. In reality, I make a lot of sex, sex in exsexx, lol, but I have to admit that my boyfriend used to relate - in excess - sex and fighting... Well, this is another story, to other posts... and so are the problems I made...
My daddy was not wealthy until I was about sixteen or seventeen. Nonetheless, owing to a combination of circumstances, like price of commodities, sense of opportunity, hard work, a lot of good lucky etc etc, he really earned a lot of money after that. He was giving me the oportunity to be a... daddy's girl, lol! Well, I have never aimed for that, nevertheless, once I was rather upset and bored with my boyfriend, rather tired of being beaten, and rather downhearted to beat (all subjects to other posts), I accepted the challenge and moved to the capital city, where I took exams and got into the college. Well, well...
As a rich preppy girl studying in a big city, I had a great time. An entire apartment only for me and boyfriends in it when I wanted... I thought it was no problem I spend my life in happiness and do what I wanted to do. But in that huge building where I lived during my stay in the capital city, I think that this way of life caused a little bit of inconvenience, especially when I heard loud techno music.
My left-hand neighbour had already complained a lot, but the others had not, and then I continued with my habits. Neighbors barely talk to each other, really! But I did not expect the avenging fury of Donna Lucrezia, which should be Borgia, my above-referred neighbour. She was a beautiful thirty-eight to forty years old buff-bodied woman who lived alone. She used frequently to receive their boyfriends, like me, and did not seem boring at all, both for her youthful and lively behavior as well as for her boyfriends... She always complained courteously...
On one Friday evening, I was hanging around, listening to loud techno, barefoot and wearing only shorts and a bikini top, thinking about my night out, which would start at 11 pm, when Donna Lucrezia knocked violently the door and ordered me to down the volume. I did not like the tone of her voice.
– I will not down it. And fuck you! – I replied, opening the door.
I should have been more careful, because I am a petite girl and she was very big and strong. I also did not expect her to run over me. She grabbed my hair and hit me in the mouth, and then gave me lots of punches in the belly, all at the threshold. She entered the room grabbing me by the hair, locked the door and continued to beat me. I could not defend myself, she was really very strong.
– I will do you a favor, I will teach you to be a human being! – she shouted.
She led me to the sofa, put me on your knees, controlling me by grabbing by the hair, took my shorts and panties off and spanked me soundly... Anybody knows how long? I know, because when I was placed on her knees, the wall clock was right in front of me: for half an hour (from 8 to 8:30pm)! In the mid-way, she alleviated me of the weight of my top, so that I could appreciate the punishment stark naked, in a additional dosis of humiliation...

She hit very hard, ensuring acute pain. I screamed and cursed her. And more I cursed, more she spanked me, increasing the power of the slaps, which she distributed alternatively on each buttock. 

My ass was burning as if in fire. She said nothing during the spanking. And during it I gradually changed my speech: after cursing a lot, I ordered her to release me (“okay, that's okay”, I said, when I finally agreed on behaving better); then I asked her for stopping (“please, stop, you are hurting me a lot”); then I apologized, a thousand of apologies. I said I was sorry and regret; I begged, I said I would do everything she wanted. And eventually, at a certain time, it was much to me: I started to cry rivers of tears because the pain was too intense and the the humiliation even more. 

I think her hand started to hurt and she took one of her flip-flops off and used it to spank me until the end. It seemed that she was enjoying very much beating me like under a metronome rhythm (someone has already studied piano?).

Once satisfied, she said:
– It was for your own good, naughty little girl! Now, you can choose: I will repeat the dosis using a belt or you will endure some hours of corner time!
– Corner time! – I begged – Please, corner time!
She laughed sarcastically.
– Good and obedient girl - and tapped my head, as if I were a little child, or a pet –. Now, go to the corner there. Legs apart, hands on the crown, each elbow on each wall.
I obeyed.

In that corner, sometimes I turned the head, full of fear, in order to glimpse Donna Lucrezia's presence. After half one hour, feeling my armpits painfull, I decided to attempt a fleeing... however, a discret noise coming from behind me made me come back immediately to the punishment position. It was my lucky. Donna Lucrezia bellowed to me:

– Now, naughty girl, to the corner at the side of the door; legs apart, crossed hands, head on the wall, each back of the hand on each upper butt-cheek.

I obeyed.

This time I had no courage to move my head, because the presence of Donna Lucrezia was fully noticeable, once she corrected my posture every time I moved a little my tired limbs.

– Time to move – she said after one hour –. Go to your bedroom. Keep standing up up a little distant from the corner. Legs closed. Hands on the nape. Arms open.

I obeyed.

Oh, my, the position seemed at first more comfortable. Donna Lucrezia, however, did not miss a trick: she compelled me to keep the position for endless two hours, pinching my nipples at each signal of moving disobedience.

I had to beg for mercy:

– Please, Donna Lucrezia (she had obliged me call her this way), I can not stand any more...

– Oh, poor thing, I will help you. Let's to a beltspanking session...

– No, please - I cried immediately.

– So - she said - what do you want?

– Oh, I do not know...

She pinched hard my tits , what made me remember what I wanted.

– Corner time, please, more corner time!

– Good! - she said, tapping my head - I see I am helping you a lot. So, you will change again. To the side of the door. Forearms up and against the wall. And in tiptoes!

Oh, heavens, I obeyed. Oh, my, this was a true session of torture. After twenty minutes my calves were in pain and trembling. I had no courage to complain and started crying.

– Oh, poor child. I am not an executioner, little lady... You can rest now from the standing position. So, kneel down at the side of that ironing board.

I obeyed.

– Hands crossed on the nape.

I obeyed, oh my.

– Arms open!

Oh, hell, I obeyed!

– Stay there, completely still. You have to make deep meditations regarding her way of life. Ok?

– Yes.

– How did I teach you to say, little brat?

– Yes, Donna Lucrezia.

– Again.

– Yes, Donna Lucrezia.

The forced obedience was calming me down a little bit. I understood that the my destiny was to be under Donna Lucrezia's control. So, I really obeyed her and meditated a lot, completely still, without attempting any move to get rid from the punishment.

I stayed in this way for two endless hours.

She was careful in keeping the pleasant temperature of water until noon – what a good nature creature! And until noon she grabbed me intermittently by the hair again and drowned me until I lost my breath – keeping my wrists tied behind me with my own bikini top.

When she made me emerged, I was compelled to say "I'll be a good neighbour”, “I will not disturb anybody else," "My rights end when the others' begins”, "I was a bad girl and now I will not be more", “Do not do unto others what you do not want to make you” – and thousand others pills of wisdom more. I repeated everything, scared and obedient, because she, despite being right, was mad as a hatter and, after all, I could not endure another dose of Pat Boone or pat-bum...

At noon, she left. I stood up, trying to get rid of the bikini top, which kept my wrists tied, in order to call  someone up – but she came and caught me off guard.

She grabbed me again by the hair, being I all wet, and asked me if I wanted more punishment. For God's sake, more punishment would disfigure my until then lovely bum-bum, I think that neither Dr. Pitanguy could recompose it, it would be total loss by excessive swelling.

So I begged desperately her for mercy. Gosh, she made me sit on the toilet and swallow two bottles of laxatives, an horrible thing that gave me the urge of vomiting and made Mussolini laugh, even if impaled on Lucifer's trident.

But I did not vomit: I defecated up the guts during the whole afternoon. Meanwhile, the crazy woman gave me homemade oral re-hydration solution and light food to make me endure the ordeal, and defecate more and more. She said me several times that the punishment was to me got cleansed.

At 6pm, there was nothing more to be expelled from my guts. She ordered me to stand up and go to the shower. She washed me brutally and completely, with the right of a shower hose into my ass!

– Now you are really cleansed. – she said, after the torturing enema.

Meanwhile I got cold, my nipples got erect as hell. She pinched painfully them:

– Good girls have to be decent. Put a shirt on!

I obeyed.

– Now, kneel down there – and pointed me a spot – on coarse salt!

I obeyed.

– I am a soft-hearted teacher. It would be corn kernels.

– Thanks, Donna Lucrezia – I said, automatically.

– Head against the wall.

I obeyed

– Forearms crossed against the lower back. Each hand against each elbow.

Gosh, I obeyed!

At almost 8pm, exactly 24 hours after the torture had started, she left me face down on my bed, with compresses on the ass. She gave me a painkiller and a fucking sleeping pill, that made me only wake up on Sunday afternoon.

Notwithstanding, I "awoke from uneasy dreams" all the night, feeling me like a "monstruous vermin". In the nightmares, Donna Lucrezia spanked me all the time. I woke up groggy several times and, completely worn out, I turned my head to have a glimpse, over my shoulder, of my butt. Oh, my, the only thing I could notice, probably from Saturday onwards, was that the compresses were not on my butt anymore... Would have Donna Lucrezia come back in order to verify my butt wreckage?

In fact, when I woke up late in the Sunday morning, the apartment keys were on my side, plus a box of painkiller, two tablets of the fucking sleeping pills and a cold pack, besides a bunch of light food, all on the bed. The bitch left me even a Pat Boone CD...

I closed swiftly the door, making me sure she was not inside...

...ate the baby food and, when I was going to take a shower (Gosh, I was stinking, perhaps of fear...), I resolved to take a look at my butt in the mirror of the bedroom - oh poor thing of me!

After shower, I decided to take an additional painkiller and an extra sleeping pill. I filled the cold pack up with ice and put it on my swollen butt. I just woke up on Monday, when my poor behind started a timid deflating protest.

The funny thing is that Donna Lucrezia went on treating me very well, greeting me as if nothing has occurred. I laughed a lot to her, to keep my charming assets firm round, smooth and tanned in my bikinis.

Poor thing of my ass: it is so cute, it did not deserve all that punishment... Did I..

Good fellow this Donna Lucrezia, so good looking and buff-bodied.

I have never heard loud music anymore.

The CD of Pat Boone I did not break, for security reasons.

Another pics of an almost perfect spanking

These pics are not so good as the prior one, but are worth to be seen. After all, a hairpulling is something special in spankings too...