AT LAST! The kinky diet you have all been waiting for: THE BDSM DIET. The thing is: It works!
I’ve been struggling with my weight for years and finally decided to do something about it. Here’s how my diet started:
I’m tied to a cross, tied tight. Naked. Blindfolded. A bit afraid. Nipple clamps are insistently making their presence felt. I can feel my heart beating, hear my breathing. My back is still tingling from a flogging. My shoulders are stiffening from the way my hands are stretched above my head into the cuffs. I have no idea what is coming next. I hope I am ready for it. I hear her pick something up but have no idea what it is. A voice close to my ear, husky but strong. Not a voice to be messed with.
“You, my friend, need to lose some weight.
Our next appointment is in four weeks’ time.
You will lose 8 pounds before we meet again or I will cane you.
I will cane you 40 times.
I will cane you with this cane”.
She steps back. I hear the swish and the meaty, solid thwack as it lands hard across the centre of my buttocks. For half a second nothing. Then agony; unbelievable that a single stroke can cause so much pain. I start panting like a woman in labour as if trying to blow the pain out of my body. It doesn’t work.
“Are we clear? 40 strokes. Exactly like this”.
The second stroke makes me yell as my body slams into the cross. *
I lost ten pounds, not eight, just to be sure. Well you would, wouldn’t you. On the face of it this seems like the simplest form of psychology: fear of consequence (caning) leads to actions (eat less/exercise more). For me it was subtler than that. For the next month each time I looked at a piece of cake, or was faced with a stairs vs escalator decision, I was drawn back to the dungeon, the mistresses voice in my ear. Instead of dieting being a dull, tedious part of my day to day vanilla existence it became kinky, exciting, motivating. Kink became part of my day to day life in a way it never normally is. I didn’t just lose the weight, I enjoyed doing so and felt more motivated, more focussed and sharper.
For a month or two after that session, having lost the threat, my weight drifted so I set up a second scenario. This time the consequences were even more horrific. She chose bastinado, caning on the feet, something I could not imagine ever being able to eroticise. Again: motivation up; exercise up; food intake down. I lost another 10 pounds.
So now I need to write a diet book, make millions and retire to a big house on a beach in the Caribbean. Naturally it will have its own dungeon and a fearsome mistress just in case my weight drifts back up!
*This did not happen by accident. I had explained to the mistress before the session that I thought this might work for me. I imagined her threatening me with maybe ten strokes. The fact she chose 40, which seemed an unimaginable number at the time, definitely helped get my attention.