Letter From Ivy Hill

Dear Shoeblossom:

I am a female submissive. I'm an adult professional,but I am dominated by my simpleminded half-brother.

We are both in our thirties, but have a weird relationship!

Lorne is a loving brother, but he is also quite strict with me. He never understands that a doctor's time is not always her own, and when I am late coming home from the office, he becomes very annoyed with me. He's usually spent the day watching television and eating Cheerios, and he wants me to make his dinner.

Last week he was so irritated that I was late, he ran a wire through my pierced nipples and put it through a ceiling hook and hung me there, my hands manacled behind me, for nearly an hour! Although it was horribly painful, it did remind me that I had a brother to take care of, and I couldn't be irresponsible.

Lorne gets terribly jealous of my dates, and recently I begged him to allow me to have a party...Lorne doesn't do well at parties, particularly with lots of attractive professionals around.

He made me scrub the floor on my hands and knees, and really beg him to allow this.. And then when the party started, he stood around, following me at a distance as I laughed and talked with people, ever the hostess. He doesn't allow me to attend parties, so this was an especially big deal for me...but then he became somewhat possessive.

Everyone stared at my peculiar brother at my party. Unlike the fashionable professionals, Lorne was wearing bib overalls and had a bowl haircut that the neighbor had given him. He chewed a piece of (imported) straw and looked somewhat menacing...but he's my brother, right?

Every half hour or so, Lorne would tap my shoulder and point to the bedroom, and I'd have to go in, and give him a blowjob, before refreshing my lipstick and going back out into the event. At one point, Lorne heard me use profanity, (I was telling a dirty joke to some colleagues) and he lost it, I'm afraid.

"Bend across the armrest of that sofa, Theresa Marie!" Lorne ordered angrily. I looked at him in horror, as did all the doctors, nurses and lawyer friends that I had. "You know Pa doesn't allow you to use sinful talk! Pull up your dress and pull down your panties. You're getting the razor strop right now!"

I was trembling. "Lorne" I said in a carefully controlled voice, "You can't punish me like this in front of other people. These are people from the community, and you really can't—"

I was silenced by Lorne's backhand. As I staggered, my lip bleeding, Lorne dragged me to the couch. Fortinbras Rolfe, one of my medical partners moved to intervene but I found myself shouting at him, "That's my brother. You leave him alone!"

Lorne grinned through his grotesque harelip and took a wooden Spencer paddle, the kind with nine holes in it, and threw me across the armrest of the couch. He pulled up my hot little dress and pulled down my panties. WHACK THWACK! CRACK! SMACK!

Shoeblossom, I don't know if you've ever had it from a Spencer paddle, but it really, really stings, the thick wood bounces, literally bounces, off the buttocks, and my butt began to turn red and then purplish.

But again, just like in my youth, the males who were watching my humiliation, began playing pocket pool, and the girls laughed, particularly those who were jealous of my looks and intelligence.

After Lorne finished thrashing me with the paddle, he took the razor strop and gave me fifty more, and then sent me to stand in the corner, with my dress held up and my panties strung around my knees. It looked quite unusual, with my high heels and everything!

And then a surprising thing happened. Lorne began feeling more at home at the party! "The party must continue" he said happily. "I am afraid my sister is being punished and can no longer participate, but everyone else can...and if any of the guys want a little oral relief, Theresa Marie can satisfy them in the bathroom!"

So that's my letter, Shoeblossom. I apparently am hopelessly in the thrall of my baby brother, who is deformed in face but certainly not in character. The only really interesting thing that happened after this was, Lorne got a few phone numbers from attractive women at the party that wanted similar treatment! Isn't that wild?

Love,

Theresa Marie Lonigan, M.D.

Dear Theresa Marie:

Life is unpredictable, and sometimes lonely, and I think you've found a way that works. I wonder how many other members of the medical profession could benefit from a little brotherly love, eh?

Best,

Shoeblossom