*take nothing for granted!
Unless otherwise indicated all photos © Richard McKie 2005 - 2015

Who is Online

We have 79 guests and no members online

Translate to another language

Article Index

Chapter 10 - Punishment




The Saturday after she had met Mohandas, Margery had a great day out, boating on the river with Phillip, her current boyfriend.  They'd taken a picnic and consummated their luncheon tryst on his blanket beside the river.  A party of four in a passing boat has seen Phillip's bare bum bobbing up and down between her knees above the embankment; and yelled their encouragement.  He was spurred on to finish; and redoubled his efforts. Margery giggled because it reminded her of a Limerick:

It always delights me at Hank's To walk up the old river banks.
One time in the grass I stepped on an arse,
And heard a young girl murmur, Thanks.

So instead of pretending to come when he did, she said just said: "Thanks," in a flat unemotional way.  He was taken aback.  He didn't understand.  Was she being ironic?  His obvious confusion all the way home was so delicious that she's been thinking of new ways of upsetting him ever since.

By the time her alter ego, Kat, arrived late on Saturday evening, Mohandas had been working for thirty hours, with only the briefest of pizza and bathroom breaks, and wasn't making much sense.  She told him as much. 

"You're useless to me in this condition. Go to your bedroom and get undressed.  Now!"

As soon as he was naked he collapsed on his bed and closed his eyes.  He was so tired!

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, following him in some minutes later.  "You can't go to sleep unpunished."

She'd been jumping his player to the track: 'There is beauty in the bellow of the blast' and setting the first part to repeat.  She slid the wide leather belt from his trousers and doubled it over.  She told him to roll onto his stomach.  She had his remote control that allowed her to raise the volume the music as she liked and she beat him in time to the song, using one arm to hit him while with the other hand she pushed his face down into his pillow to quieten each yell of pain.

There is beauty in the bellow of the blast, thwack
There is grandeur in the growling of the gale, thwack
There is eloquent outpouring, thwack
When the lion is a-roaring, thwack
And the tiger is a-lashing of his tail! thwack

Yes, I like to see a tiger
From the Congo or the Niger,
And especially when lashing of his tail! thwack - really hard

Volcanoes have a splendour that is grim,  thwack
And earthquakes only terrify the dolts, thwack
But to him who's scientific, thwack
There's nothing that's terrific,  thwack
In the falling of a flight of thunderbolts!  thwack

Yes, in spite of all my meekness,
If I have a little weakness,
It's a passion for a flight of thunderbolts! thwack

And then it repeated and repeated and repeated.


As she beat Mohandas Margery experienced the pleasure that she always felt when hurting someone.  But now the pleasure was seasoned deliciously with thoughts of Bianca.  Her teacher, Morag, always insisted that we each find at least one younger apprentice to follow us a generation later.  Suitable candidates have been hard to find but Bianca is just perfect.  The girl is very attractive and not unlike her.  She'll be a wonderful seductress and acolyte when she's been properly recruited and trained.  At last she's found a girl worthy of initiation who might in years to come be led through her degrees in The Craft until she's ready to step up as worshipful mistress.  A warm glow suffused her body, like a delayed sexual climax, as she simultaneously beat Mohandas and imagined future intimate moments with Bianca.

When Mohandas' bottom was satisfactorily crimson she changed sides and beat him with the other arm.  Margery is an ambidextrous thwacker. 

When the first blood appeared she let him up and demanded he pleasure her with his tongue, thwacking him again at each mistake. She's been disappointed in his manly endowments when compared to Phillip so greater skill in other ways is important for Mohandas to perfect.  In any case she often preferred lingua to lingam and this was to be her most satisfying session of the weekend.  But save for his now desperate need to please 'his Kat' it did little to relieve Mohandas' urgent carnal needs.  Anticipating this Margery had brought with her a robotic 'familiar', or assistant, in the form of Pussy, a large fluffy black toy cat. 

Taking Pussy in her arms then lying beside him naked and kissing him deeply to initiate the experience she introduced them.  The robot cat with its wonderful mink-like fur then moved, purring softly, over his body in learning mode, visiting each erogenous zone to nibble or lick or stroke, learning to monitor and heighten his excitement to an extended crescendo under Kat's guidance.  When Margery was satisfied with this foreplay she pressed the programming button before Pussy settled down for the finale.  Pussy's equipped with an electro-stimulation unit of the kind used for 'milking' bulls and rams of semen for artificial insemination. Yet her subtle program is not like a bull in a china shop. Over the next, seemingly interminable, period she proceeded little by little to rob Mohandas of more and more 'ego' until he was hallucinating. 

Margery has had Pussy since she was an apprentice to Morag her teacher.  Pussy was a birthday gift for her fifteenth birthday like a 'soft toy' given to a younger child.  Since that time she has served her mistress faithfully with very little maintenance except firmware upgrades provided by a wicked colleague.  At one time Pussy was a useful source of credit as there is a thriving semi-legal market in human sperm. 

Not every male partner can deliver the goods in sufficient quantity and quality. That's because these days, when a single baby is so precious, the recipient mother will generally want to in-vitro fertilise say a hundred of her ova so she can reject all but two or three of the blastocysts after genetic screening first for known genetic defects and then selecting for desired characteristics.  Final screening will occur after successful implantation or in the delivery room to deliver the perfect child.  That's why every child born today is told that they are 'one in a hundred'.   But Margery knows that the wording of the ad is important.  Parents want a child consistent with their family traditions. Preferably one resembling the putative 'father'.

One of Margery's very successful start-ups was Male Order, a sperm bank that promised delivery, from 'studs' with the desired attributes, anywhere in the world, within 48 hours.  Hunting the appropriate donor and than collecting was fun for a twenty-something and good experience in seducing men but became boring after a time.  

Margery sold the business to an acolyte long ago but might nevertheless offer tonight's harvest on the 'dark web', for old time's sake. 


Medium height; solid muscular build; black hair; light brown skin; brown eyes; no known health issues; intelligent; ethnic origin - India


Margery knows not to mention that he's a Grad. That would immediately limit her market to a mere handful.  But many families originate from India and that's a big positive, along with fitness and medium height.  'Intelligent' comes later as it will not appeal to many.  A child who's too bright can be a burden to an average family:  'Nobody likes a smartarse,' as the saying goes.  Apart from that, Mohandas is in the 'Goldilocks zone':  not too tall; not too short; not too dark; not too white; and will probably fetch a premium price.  Regular milking is now on his agenda.  So across the world, dozens of little Mohandas' will soon be the 'apples of their parents' eye', filling nappies and crying their tiny hearts out, as he soon will be too if Kat has anyting to do with it.

During Mohandas' extended climax 'Kat' had kissed him deeply so that he would associate the whole experience with her.  Then she allowed him to fall into a deep sleep.  After that Margery reset the music and putting her Pussy back in the bag she departed invisibly; her own ego close to exploding, having completely robbed two men of all of theirs in a single afternoon.  From now on, if Kat was not in the mood for that kind of sex, Pussy would stand in for her. Just set and forget. Meanwhile, the deposits would flow to Margery's credit balance.  Perhaps another pair of shoes?

Such material concerns are of little interest to her Kat alter-ego, who is motivated solely by power over others and the erotic thrill it delivers.  She's now more excited by the thought of introducing Mohandas to more of her hardware, to complement her firmware; software; and wetware.

Mohandas had been very sore after his whipping until he discovered that Kat had left him some special cream to rub on his bum that made it go numb.  On Sunday Kat had promised that she would come over and bring lunch.  She didn't turn up. Phillip, had suggested a visit to the Zoo and Margery decided that Kat could wait.  She loves seeing the big cats caged like that, pacing in frustration. 

Mohandas was devastated, wondering if Kat was still angry.  Perhaps she was annoyed by the coding errors he'd made? Could it be over?  Maybe he wouldn't see her again? He didn't think he could bear that.  She was his muse. She even understood how much he had enjoyed her robot cat and had enthusiastically participated in his artificial stimulation, whispering words of encouragement.  So that the cat too had micked her, learning to purr erotically as it went about it's tasks.  He couldn't imagine any of his previous 'up-tight' female acquaintances doing something like that.  He realised that he loved her.  He tried to work in the afternoon but was so distracted he kept rewriting a single function without success. 

Kat eventually turned up late in the evening.  Mohandas was so pleased to see her that he fell to his knees, embracing her lower thighs and pressing his face to her.  He couldn't see the expression of triumph on her face but it wouldn't have mattered. 

After another session with Pussy she told him that given his heritage, as his special Sunday treat, they would try something straight out of the Kama Sutra.  This turned out to be a method for growing his lingam to a more satisfactory size, over a period of weeks. 

When a man wishes to enlarge his lingam, he should rub it with certain insect bristles then rubbing it with oils, before rubbing it again with the bristles.
By continuing to do this a swelling will be gradually produced in the lingam. 
He should then lie on a cot, and cause his lingam to hang down through a hole in the cot.
After this he should take away all the pain from the swelling by using cool concoctions.
The swelling, which is called Suka, is often brought about among the people of the Dravida country, and lasts for life.

The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana


The insect bristles, from some sort of hairy caterpillar, were incredibly painful and afterwards his 'lingam' was so excruciatingly sore that he was not lying when he messaged his supervisor at work that he couldn't come in that day. 

But of course he was lying; on his back, naked from the waist to his knees. 



Add comment

Security code

    Have you read this???     -  this content changes with each opening of a menu item








In the seventies I spent some time travelling around Denmark visiting geographically diverse relatives but in a couple of days there was no time to repeat that, so this was to be a quick trip to two places that I remembered as standing out in 1970's: Copenhagen and Roskilde.

An increasing number of Danes are my progressively distant cousins by virtue of my great aunt marrying a Dane, thus contributing my mother's grandparent's DNA to the extended family in Denmark.  As a result, these Danes are my children's cousins too.

Denmark is a relatively small but wealthy country in which people share a common language and thus similar values, like an enthusiasm for subsidising wind power and shunning nuclear energy, except as an import from Germany, Sweden and France. 

They also like all things cultural and historical and to judge by the museums and cultural activities many take pride in the Danish Vikings who were amongst those who contributed to my aforementioned DNA, way back.  My Danish great uncle liked to listen to Geordies on the buses in Newcastle speaking Tyneside, as he discovered many words in common with Danish thanks to those Danes who had settled in the Tyne valley.

Nevertheless, compared to Australia or the US or even many other European countries, Denmark is remarkably monocultural. A social scientist I listened to last year made the point that the sense of community, that a single language and culture confers, creates a sense of extended family.  This allows the Scandinavian countries to maintain very generous social welfare, supported by some of the highest tax rates in the world, yet to be sufficiently productive and hence consumptive per capita, to maintain among the highest material standards of living in the world. 

Read more ...

Fiction, Recollections & News

The Secret

The Secret

By Richard McKie


 Download PDF (for e-readers)


Lansing Michigan was a fine place to grow up, she guessed.  It was nice, and safe.

Her dad worked in the Michigan State Government and her mum stayed home. They weren’t rich but they were comfortable. Their new house was big, the nicest they had lived in and it was in a really good area. 

She had never been overseas, unless you count nearby Canada, and that was mainly on trips to Niagara Falls, usually when one of Mum’s sisters came to stay. When they passed through Sarnia, into Canada, Dad would always say "Yea! Overseas again!". It was about his only joke.

Sometimes they went through Detroit. But after what had happened there the last time she shut that out of her consciousness. No wonder she is timid and takes fright easily. Now if a friend even seemed to be driving in that direction she would go into the foetal position and shut-down.

Read more ...

Opinions and Philosophy

A modern fairytale - in a Parallel Universe


I've dusted off this little satirical parable that I wrote in response to the The Garnaut Climate Change Review (2008).  It's not entirely fair but then satire never is.




In a parallel universe, in 1920† Sidney, the place where Sydney is in ours, had need of a harbour crossing.

An engineer, Dr Roadfield, was engaged to look at the practicalities; including the geology and geography and required property resumptions, in the context of contemporary technical options. 

After considering the options he reported that most advanced countries solve the harbour crossing problem with a bridge.  He proposed that they make the decision to have a bridge; call for tenders for an engineering design; raise the finance; and build it.  We'll call it the 'Sidney Harbour Bridge' he said; then less modestly: 'and the new crossing will be called the Roadfield Highway'. 

Read more ...

Terms of Use                                           Copyright