Tag Archives: Mommy’s Little Dunce

“Naughty porn writers must stand in the corner!”

This is the fate which a beauteous no-nonsense lady enforces with stern but compassionate discipline in my story Mommy’s Little Dunce, available as a Kindle ebook from Amazon.

Few artists can capture the allure of legs in nylon like Sardax! This image © Sardax.

Recently I got a nice comment here from Sardax, the great British femdom illustrator whose work is known worldwide. When I wrote fiction for editor Dian Hanson’s Leg Show back in the 90s and early 2000s, I was fortunate that Dian had Sardax illustrate a few of my tales of submissive men and the glorious women who dazzle, befuddle, and punish them. One of my epics was Mommy’s Little Dunce which I’ve just re-published as an ebook, but with a cover design of my own since I don’t have the rights to Sardax’s picture. Another reason for using a different cover is that all my ebooks are designed to evoke the crude but evocative cover styles of the underground fetish story pamphlets once sold in adult bookstores or through the mails.

I don’t claim to be any kind of artist but this cover of my own does capture in its primitive way the feeling of the lady in the story…


However, Sardax and I exchanged a few emails and he graciously gave me a mention on his site The Femdom Art of Sardax with a little excerpt of the story and links to my Amazon pages. It all just went up today and I’ve got more hits on this blog than ever before. Thank you, my dear Sardax! He encouraged me to put up his original illustration, which you see above on the top of this post, so I could share it with my readers.

In the November 2008 issue of Leg World

…I reviewed his book The Art of Sardax in my ErotiCulture column, below. Because of newsstand magazine censorship restrictions in some areas, I couldn’t reproduce the cover of the book, which would have been considered too kinky and humilating–so I chose to illustrate my review with one of the interior illustrations. If you click on the image, you can read the entire review (and two other interesting ones). But for your convenience I have also reproduced it below with the original cover of the book, which is now out-of-print and sells online for approximately $240 a copy!

Here the review reprinted in its entirety, with a copy of the cover of this now out-of-print and very collectible book:

In some areas on our planet, images of a woman walking a man like a dog are considered too kinky for newsstands.


Review by Irv O. Neil

The British artist Sardax specializes in femdom imagery, and the girls and women in his pictures usually exhibit a calm, half-smiling detachment as they put slave males through their paces. Although Sardax is quoted in the intro to this book as saying that he doesn’t like to draw “pinup type” girls, his women are often quite pretty and it is unnerving to see such cuties placidly and harshly dominating submissive males with a variety of skills and methods.

The “Sartopian” female may exist in the artist’s imaginary but superbly rendered utopia of female domination and male obedience, but modern life has caught up with the fantasies of this skilled draughtsman. Without consciously being aware of it, or even knowing of Sardax’s existence, many contemporary young women seem to exhibit the haughty attitudes, air of privilege, and bemused arrogance of the Sartopian domina. Women in “real life” may not physically manipulate men with the same bizarre fetishistic flourishes as the women of Sardax do, but their aura of conquest comes across nonetheless. It seems to me that many females today want to figuratively, if not literally, put males on their knees.

Published by the Erotic Print Society as part of their Great British Erotic Art series, The Art of Sardax is an excellent 160 page compendium of the artist’s various treatments of the theme of women controlling men. Few others can depict as well as Sardax such a variety of boots, stiletto shoes, seamed stockings, corsetry, lingerie, and especially the delicious strain of womanly hips and derrieres against taut and shiny skirts. He is also adept at evoking historical scenes: eighteenth and nineteenth century women in the tight-waisted dresses of those eras, or dressed like pirates or buccaneers, complete with tri-cornered hats. Whether he’s creating a scene in color or black-and-white, and whether it’s a young woman in a peach baby doll nightie cramming a construction worker’s mouth with a strap-on dildo, or a ponytailed Japanese girl in a demure white dress teasing a thirsty slave with a glass of water, Sardax projects before us a dark world where susceptible men are slaves to perfect yet ruthless beauties. It can be a merciless world too, where sometimes the prospect of even an orgasm as reward for endless obedience is in doubt.

The Sartopian male is helplessly entangled in the emotional and erotic webs spun by these women. Yet the spectator is often guided to feel, largely by the brief stories accompanying the drawings, that these men have complicity in their submission. They hope and lust to be dominated, no matter how ambivalent they may come to feel about it later. Instead of the vainglorious orgasmic bliss they thought they would achieve in hooking up with such gorgeous creatures, they find themselves instead waiting for a humble sniff of a domme’s tennis sock, or a glob of frigid ice cream sliding between a girl’s teasing toes, or the scrape of a mistress’s blood-red nails against their yearning scrotums. In the world of Sardax, a young man takes a beauty to the prom, and discovers that she is going to use him in an experiment in group femdom with her friends. He finds himself completely nude before these merciless beauties, who are still splendid in their prom gowns as they have their way with his naked behind.

But here is the most unnerving thing about the seemingly cruel Sartopian female. Sardax clearly suggests, often through the enigmatic smile on the girl’s face, that she might actually be kind in her cruelty, with her icy demeanour the exact kind of syrup a certain type of man wants on his sexual sundae. In one of the mini-stories that accompany the pictures, a doughy middle-aged man enslaved to a young woman says: “I love her and I hate her…I cannot stay here, and I cannot leave.” This phrase echoes a famous epigram by the Roman poet Catullus, written two thousand years ago, in which he bemoaned the strange mystery and emotional pain of loving and hating a woman at the same time. The kind of woman who inspires such passion—whether she lives in Sartopia, modern Manhattan, or ancient Rome—is more than simply human: she is also goddess and monster, human and spider. In her presence, you never tread neutral ground. Welcome to Sartopia, a place as eternal as Rome itself, not a country but a state of mind which has existed ever since fabled Eve first gave Adam the apple, and which Sardax explores in this beautifully designed volume. The Art of Sardax will arouse your libido, but also inspire you to examine and analyze the ever-curious ecstasies of female domination and male submission.

ErotiCulture review ©2008 Irv O. Neil


I hope you’ll visit him online at The Femdom Art of Sardax here!

And I hope you will also check out Mommy’s Little Dunce, the story of a porn writer who feels bad about his profession and needs special spanking and humiliation therapy to get over his psychological and sexual hang-ups. It’s available at Amazon’s Kindle stores in the U.S., UK, Germany, Italy, France, and Spain. Just click on the link in the country of your choice. The book, which is in English, can be read either on e-readers or on your computer with the free Kindle applications for PC or Mac. Enjoy…


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Porn writers versus “real” writers!

An occupational hazard–at least with smut scribes of my Baby Boomer generation who didn’t grow up with the Internet-spawned notion that porn is just another part of mainstream culture–is a feeling of inferiority because the mainstream world does not recognize us as “real writers.”

I confess to having felt this myself over the years. Makes widdle Irv feel vewwy bad…

A porn writer sets himself (or herself) up for disappointment if he expects to get approval for his horny work.

This can lead to a “fuck you” attitude toward the mainstream world, and a desire to rub the noses of the “civilians” (or non-porn people) in the outrageousness of our work. This has always struck me as the modus operandi of people like Larry Flynt or Al Goldstein.

On the other hand, there are some porn folk, like myself, who internalize the feeling of inferiority and get depressed. But depression can lead to some interesting work as the feelings are dramatized in stories.

Which brings me to my newest ebook release,  MOMMY’S LITTLE DUNCE, which will be available tomorrow in the Kindle store.

This nice lady makes a porn writer stand in the corner until he loses control of his bladder. Bad porn writer! Baaaadd!! 😉

I wrote this story in 2000 for Leg Show, and have only slightly revised it, tweaking little things here and there. Otherwise, I present it in its original form, with a new cover illustration that faithfully captures the spirit of the lady in the tale. (The original terrific magazine illo was by the great Sardax, but I don’t own the rights to that. But check out his site here, because you should know his work if you don’t already! Adults only, of course.)

Readers of my blog, and folks on search engines, have been looking around for this story, which until now has only been available in vintage and hard-to-find copies of the original magazine. I’m happy to present it in the Kindle format, available in English in the Amazon stores of the U.S., UK, France, Germany, Italy and Spain!

Writing a good story always improves my mood!

And what, you may ask, is MOMMY’S LITTLE DUNCE about? It tells the fictional tale of a porn writer named Dexter Bloom–I’ve been writing about various “Dexters” since the mid-70s when I lived in a residential hotel called the Dexter House on New York’s Upper West Side. Dexter feels very naughty and like a “dunce” because he has not achieved his goals of achieving “real writerhood” while busy scribbling dirty stories for adult magazines. He goes to see a special “esoteric therapist” named Rachel Foster who specializes in helping creative people overcome their guilt complexes. The story of how Ms. Foster gets Dexter to design his own dunce cap and stand in the corner of her office in his underpants will show you how important it is to express one’s feelings in order to overcome them…right?

Here is one wild story which is almost a companion piece in perversion to my top-selling LEARNING TO BE CRUEL! And of course, any resemblances to real people, places, persons or events are purely coincidental. 

You’ll be able to find it tomorrow (March 16, 2012) in the Kindle stores at Amazon.

Amazon U.S.:

Amazon UK:

Amazon Germany:

Amazon France:

Amazon Italy:

Amazon Spain:

And getting back to the question of what is a “real writer”? Who cares!

I hope you enjoy MOMMY’S LITTLE DUNCE.

March 18, 2012 UPDATE: Here is a new direct link to the book on Amazon U.S. Click on the pic:

And I say again, enjoy…


Posted by on March 15, 2012 in Erotica


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