Sissy Saturday And Strap-On Sunday Part 1
This weekend just gone turned out to be very entertaining indeed, and I had been expecting a fairly quiet one; although of course those are the times that always seem to turn out to be the most exciting! My first session was with a CP enthusiast who really wanted to experience the birch; and of course I was only too happy to oblige! My birch had been soaking away in the kitchen sink for a good couple of hours before the session, so it was nice and flexible, and it's now sufficiently worn in that all the tiny little dried leaf buds which are all over new birch twigs have come off so there's no chance of one flying off and hitting me in the eye mid-beating! I had an absolutely wonderful time giving him a good sound birching; I love the way that the punishment builds with the birch - a single swat with it is nothing compared to one from a cane, for example, but the stinging/burning sensation steadily builds with each impact and as it does the skin turns a magnificent shade of red! Of course, this is only the case with the traditional English spray birch - the Manx birch is an entirely different beast!
Once the birching was complete, the few stray twigs swept up, and the birch-ee on the train home with a very sore bottom; I made myself a nice cup of tea, lit a cigarette, and awaited the arrival of my new sissy maid. I never fail to marvel at the level of sheer incompetence the average male displays when tasked with the simplest of cleaning jobs (I once caught one attempting to clean a sink with a single sheet of toilet tissue, folded into a tiny square the size of his finger tip!), and I have exceptionally high standards when it comes to cleaning, so it is rare that a cleaning slave or sissy maid is able to meet my expectations. On this occasion, however, I was very pleased with both the enthusiasm with which the tasks were set about and the results that were attained. I gave my sissy ten swats on the bottom with the leather paddle by way of payment and sent her on her way, then sat down on the sofa and surveyed my pristine floor with satsfaction. After a minute or two, my cat jumped up to join me. We sat, side by side, queens of this immaculate vista; then with her left paw she reached out and knocked the ashtray all over it. Brilliant.
Once the birching was complete, the few stray twigs swept up, and the birch-ee on the train home with a very sore bottom; I made myself a nice cup of tea, lit a cigarette, and awaited the arrival of my new sissy maid. I never fail to marvel at the level of sheer incompetence the average male displays when tasked with the simplest of cleaning jobs (I once caught one attempting to clean a sink with a single sheet of toilet tissue, folded into a tiny square the size of his finger tip!), and I have exceptionally high standards when it comes to cleaning, so it is rare that a cleaning slave or sissy maid is able to meet my expectations. On this occasion, however, I was very pleased with both the enthusiasm with which the tasks were set about and the results that were attained. I gave my sissy ten swats on the bottom with the leather paddle by way of payment and sent her on her way, then sat down on the sofa and surveyed my pristine floor with satsfaction. After a minute or two, my cat jumped up to join me. We sat, side by side, queens of this immaculate vista; then with her left paw she reached out and knocked the ashtray all over it. Brilliant.
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