Hi ! My name is Karen Svensson, and I'm from Denmark. I'd like to tell you a little bit about how domestic discipline works in our country - or at least, in our family. I'm 22, and I've been married for just over 2 years. We have a very good relationship and a wonderful sex life. I have long blonde hair and a 36-24-34 figure, which my husband Kurt thinks are the perfect proportions, although personally, I'd like to slim a little.
I'd like to tell you about the time I had to get punished last week, because my husband was pouring himself a beer and discovered soap streaks on the beer glass. Kurt likes me to wash and dry all our glassware by hand to avoid this, but this time I was lazy and ran some glasses through the dishwasher, which does sometimes leave these streaks. I have to admit, I deserved punishment for this laziness. Here in the country of Carlsberg and Tuborg, no man (or woman either) should have to drink beer out of a less than perfectly gleaming and sparkling glass !
Usually, I receive a caning, although in our case, it does have a slightly unusual twist. My punishment begins in the bathroom. I strip naked, and then put on my punishment panties, which are a pair of white cotton knickers, tight-fitting, but in a rather old-fashioned style, such as a schoolgirl might wear. I then lie face down in the bathtub. When my husband is ready, he stands over me and urinates, directing most of his stream onto my panties, but also splashing my back and sometimes my legs. Although you could think that this would feel humiliating, humiliation should be part of a punishment, I think. After this, we go to the living room, where the caning is to take place. Our living room has a beautiful hardwood floor, which is usually covered by a rug in the centre. The rug is rolled aside, and my husband sometimes puts a towel down to avoid my wet panties staining the floor. I then lie on the hard floor, still completely nude except for my urine-soaked knickers. I rest my chin on my hands, my naked breasts pressed flat against the cold wood of the floor. My husband then commences the caning. He uses a thin rattan cane about 3 feet 6 inches long, of which he takes great care, occasionally treating it with linseed oil to keep it supple and swishy. The usual punishment is thirty strokes. Of these, I get 18 on the buttocks (they make a loud splashing sound on the wet knickers, and sting like hell). I then get six on the backs of my thighs. Finally, I have to turn over, and get six strokes on the front of my thighs. These strokes sting the worst of all, and result in bruises that last for almost a week. By this time my husband will be very aroused (and often me also, despite the pain). Sometimes he takes me roughly right there, but if he wants to add frustration to the pain and humiliation, he masturbates until he comes, rubbing his cum into my belly and breasts.
After the caning, even if we make love, the punishment is still not over. I then have to remove the urine-soaked panties (if they have not already come off during the previous activity) and place them over my head. They are taped securely in place over my mouth and nose to ensure that I cannot avoid breathing through them. I then have to go and stand in the corner of the living room for a half hour. I am always told to stand to attention and press myself completely into the corner so that my face and breasts are pressing into the walls and my feet are at right angles, toes touching the walls. This is not an entirely comfortable position, but I have to maintain it for at least half an hour, and I know that if I fail to do so, I will be back on the floor for an additional ten or fifteen cane strokes. During this time, I am acutely conscious of my newly-caned bottom and thighs, and also of the taste and smell of urine, which is also soaking into my hair. Finally, after my husband has restored the living room to its normal state, relaxed for a while, and maybe watched TV and drank a couple of beers, he will allow me to go and take a shower myself.
I know that some of you may think that this is quite a severe punishment, especially for small offences, but I have to point out that my husband is always very fair with me. I am never punished in this manner unless I have done something to deserve it. There are also certain other compensations. I often find the caning part arousing, and as for the humiliation part, I find it exciting to allow my husband, who is a wonderful guy really, to have such complete control over me. Although we do have a safeword, I have actually never needed to use it. We have experimented with whips and straps as well as the cane, but I really like best the feeling of slowly mounting stinging as the swishy cane squishes into the wet knickers, because this is quite unique.
Since it takes place in the living-room, this kind of punishment is a relatively formal affair, and is also relatively lengthy, since I am always made to stand in a corner for at least half an hour after the caning. These punishments are thus usually reserved for Friday evenings or weekends. We have a somewhat different routine if Kurt needs to punish me midweek, or for smaller offences.
Kurt calls this punishment, which takes place in the bathroom of our appartment, a "toilet training". He first gets my collar, and ties it securely to the front of the toilet seat. It is a well-made and quite expensive leather collar, two inches wide, with a stout buckle. After stripping so that I am completely nude, I hold out my arms while Kurt attaches a pair of sturdy leather wrist cuffs. I then go to kneel in front of the toilet bowl, and place my neck in the collar. The buckle is fastened at the back of my neck, so that I am looking down into the toilet water. My knees are then placed into a 24 inch spreader-bar, and my ankles into a 36 inch spreader-bar. To help support my upper body, I place my hands on the floor on either side of the toilet bowl, and my wrists cuffs are then joined via a short chain which is looped round the waste-pipe at the back of the toilet. Finally, Kurt carefully arranges my long blonde hair so that it falls down into the toilet water, wetting the ends.
Since we live in a relatively small appartment with a rather compact bathroom, there is no room to swing a cane in there. What we use instead as a punishment implement is a large but fairly light wooden paddle, actually taken from a child's badmington set. It is somewhat larger than a table-tennis paddle, with a considerably longer handle. Unlike a formal caning, we do not count the number of blows. Kurt merely paddles away repeatedly at each area of my cute and shapely bum until it turns an angry red colour, and then proceeds to the next area. He is always very thorough, and covers both bum cheeks completely - not only the back, but also of course the sides, so that some of the blows come may accidentally strike my hip bones. He also treats the tops of my thighs to some extent, which is particularly painful. During this procedure, I tend to produce an increasing number of small cries or yells, but since these are directed downwards into the toilet bowl, they are rather muffled. Sometimes, I actually start crying during the proceedings - more from the humiliation than from the pain. These are not tears of sadness or anything - it's just part of the situation. As I said before, I am never punished unless I agree that I have done something to deserve it. Also, although it is humiliating to be staring down into the toilet bowl while one is punished, I can at the same time find the situation arousing in many ways. Often this is quite visible, and on conclusion of the paddling session, Kurt will remove his trousers and take me from behind, bringing things to a very satisfying conclusion for both of us.
What I have just described is the usual informal punishment for small offences. Sometimes, I have deserved additional punishment, and in that case the paddling is followed by a mild whipping. We keep a small dog whip for this purpose. It consists of a bamboo handle about ten inches long, to which are attached three thin leather tails amout fourteen inches in length. Because of the small number of tails, the stinging from this instrument is quite severe, even though the small size of our bathroom prevents Kurt from wielding it with full force. I can usually expect to receive at least twenty-four or thirty strokes, mostly on the back and shoulders but also some on my already paddled arse. Finally, Kurt sometimes moves from a position to one side of me to stand astride me, with his legs at about the level of my waist. The small size of our bathroom is again a problem in this position, but he can nevertheless whip the backs of my thighs with strokes that curl round my thighs quite viciously, and can also direct some whip strokes into crack of my arse. The tips of some of the strokes come very close to my most sensitive nether regions.
Although I can look forward to this experience regularly, it is not so very frequent - perhaps once a fortnight on average. Also, the paddling, although it stings at the time, is not so very severe. The redness in my bum is usually almost gone by the end of the following day. Even when the mild whipping is added, the marks from this may take only a couple of additional days to disappear completely. This is still much a much easier punismhent to take than the formal caning, which Kurt applies with his full strength, and which leaves bruises that last for at least a week. The formal caning, I receive only about once every six to eight weeks. In a way, I control the frequency of this myself. If it goes much longer than this, then when I eventually do receive a severe punishment, I often realize after the event that, perhaps subconsciously, I deliberately misbehaved in order to bring the punishment upon myself.
In case you have received the opposite impression, I want to make it clear that my husband is not a violent person - in fact quite the opposite. Outside of agreed-upon punishments, he's really very gentle and understanding. I'm quite sure he would never hit me in anger - in fact I've hardly ever heard him even raise his voice ! Contrary to what you might think, he's also very unposessive. As I mentioned earlier, we have a very happy relationship and a wonderful sex life, but even so, I sometimes feel the need for a little variety in that respect. In fact, surely everyone does - I think it would be unnatural not to. Recently, I was able to indulge this need in a particularly satisfying way whan a former boyfriend (whom I recently re-encountered after having been out of touch for a long time) invited me to spend an entire weekend at his vacation retreat - a secluded cabin down in the Black Forest district of Germany. My husband didn't show the slightest sign of jealousy or resentment - in fact he encouraged me to go and enjoy myself, although he did stipulate that it would cost me an all-day punishment session upon my return. I readily agreed to this condition, of course, because I find these lengthy sessions, rare as they are, quite exciting.
We had agreed that the all-day punishment would take place the Sunday after my visit to my ex-boyfriend. I begin by making my husband a full breakfast of cereal, followed by sausage, eggs and tomatoes with lashings of best Danish bacon, and of course toast and coffee, which I serve to him in bed. Of course, I prepare and serve the breakfast completely nude. Following this, the bed must be re-made, with a waterproof rubber sheet placed under the linen sheets in order to protect the matress. We also attach wrist and ankle cuffs to the corners of the bed via short chains. The punishment itself begins at noon (we tend to get up fairly late on Sundays), and will continue until eight in the evening.
I begin by lying face down on the bed, still naked of course, and am secured in that position via the wrist and ankle cuffs. My husband commences a systematic and thorough whipping, using a fairly short whip with numerous rawhide tails. He begins on my buttocks, and after these are thoroughly redened, proceeds to my shoulders, and then to the backs of my thighs and my calves. After about twenty minutes of this treatment, I am released and instructed to turn over. I am then re-secured and whipped just as thoroughly on the front - on my breasts, belly, and inner thighs. By this point I am almost panting with arousal, but I know that there will be no satisfaction for me until the evening.
The next phase of the punishment takes place in the bathroom. I put on not the white cotton punishment panties that I wear for a formal caning, but instead a set of men's pyjamas. I kneel in the bathtub, and Kurt stands over me and urinates copiously over my shoulders, breasts and back. I feel the warm liquid trickle down my belly and thighs, gradually soaking into the soft cotton material. Still wearing the urine-soaked pyjamas, I return to the bedroom. I am re-secured, and the whipping is repeated, first on the front, then on the back, with almost the same force and duration as before. Again and again the whip splats into the warm wet cotton material covering my buttocks, thighs, belly, and breasts.
Finally the whipping is over. Still tied spreadeagled on my back, my bonds are tightened so that my legs and arms are almost completely immobile. A heavy leather strap that reaches all the way accross the double bed is secured accross my belly, and I am blindfolded. A cotton sheet is draped completely over my pyjama-clad body and head. By this time, Kurt is usually able to urinate again. He urinates over the sheet that covers me, and it takes some time for the warm liquid to soak through the sheet and dribble down, mingling with the now cooler wetness of my pyjamas. Kurt announces that it is now two o'clock, and that I will remain in bondage until eight o'clock as previously agreed. I am intensely aroused, but I know that there is no possibility of release for six more hours. During that time, I will be urinated on several more times. At some point I also feel the need to go myself. There is little point in holding back, and in fact it feels good to add my own copious stream of warm urine to the wetness already present. It dribbles over my crotch and belly and collects in a small pool under my lower back.
After that, the time seems to go very slowly. Despite the intense and delicious combination of arousal and frustration, I sleep or half sleep for some of it. I am in a semi-conscious dream-like state when I feel the sheet that covers me being lifted from my legs and hips. Suddenly, I awaken. The sheet that covered me has been removed. Still blindfolded, I feel a hand probing through the fly-hole of my pyjamas, and then something cold is applied to my arse. It's K-Y jelly. I can guess what's going to come next. Kurt gently eases in a medium-sized butt plug. I sigh with apprehension. Next, I feel my wet and aching vagina being opened and played with. Something is inserted - my small pocket-sized vibrator. I feel Kurt turn it on, and I immediately start writhing my hips. It takes me probably less than a minute to come in the first of a series of intense orgasms. I come at least three times within a fairly short interval, straining against my bonds, before Kurt turns the vibrator off. My blindfold is removed and my bonds are at last released. The release is only temporary though. Kurt announces that it is six-thirty. He states that he will allow me half an hour of freedom, during which I am to go and take a shower. I am then to return for my final hour of punishment.
I peel off and discard the pyjamas, and stand in the shower for a long while, massaging my somewhat strained muscles and relishing the relaxation. Finally I dry myself, and then return to the bedroom. Meanwhile, Kurt has removed the damp bedsheets and the protective rubber sheet underneath, and replaced them with clean, fresh-smelling ones, well ironed as always. Still naked after my shower, I lie on my back on the bed and meekly offer up my limbs to be re-bound. Kurt strips off and kneels astride my face, directing his not-unimpressive manhood towards my mouth. Although this is not something he demands all that often, I enjoy pleasing him orally, and I give him my best efforts today. It does not take too long before he is groaning in ecstasy, reaching an intense climax. After that satisfaction, he stretches out beside me and relaxes. It does not take more than ten minutes or so for him to recover, however, and he then climbs on top of me and takes me in the conventional manner. Since I am still in an intense state of arousal, he is able to satisfy me intensely several times before he comes again. Finally, it is almost eight o'clock, and Kurt begins to untie me completely. I feel completely relaxed and very warm inside. Although I have not eaten since breakfast time, I don't feel particularly hungry, but I make a supper of cocoa and toasted turkey sandwiches. Since the day has left me quite tired, we retire to bed early. After a final lovemaking session, during which Kurt is particularly kind and attentive, I sleep soundly, and awake immensely refreshed. I feel wonderful.
I honestly don't know which was more enjoyable - the weekend that Kurt allowed me to spend with my ex-boyfriend, or the punishment session which I earned as a result. Both the carefree lovemaking of the former, and the pain, humiliation and intense frustration (followed by eventual satisfaction) of the latter are things that I can't do without. I readily admit to these needs. I am incredibly lucky that Kurt is both unselfish enough to allow me the former, and kinky enough to enjoy the latter. My only wish is for all women to be able attain the satisfaction they crave. If only they were all lucky enough to find men like Kurt ! Next weekend, as a sort of "thank you" present for Kurt, I'm planning to invite a couple of girlfriends of mine for a Saturday night sleepover at our place, and I'm sure I'll enjoy the resulting fun and games almost as much as Kurt will.
Well, that's how we do things in Denmark - at least in our family. I hope to be able to write again soon. Write and tell me about your experiences in the meantime.
Bye for now
Karen Svensson