Punishment Week
Punishment Week almost here (has been possibly delayed due to Hurricane)
But before I get into that, DN and I had a (mostly) good week together last week, which I’ve been meaning to blog about but haven’t. We had some intensely honest conversations, that I wasn’t really prepared for… regarding various things (personal and professional). I can’t really tell anyone why at this point, but Her intelligence has not ceased to astound me. To wrap it up in a clichéd, simplified explanation: She is “wise beyond Her years.” She has the kind of “book smarts” afforded to people with photographic memories. She might say She doesn’t have one, but if you are trying to argue with Her about something in the past and She quotes you word for word on something you said half a year ago – well, you see where I am going with this. And She has knowledge that doesn’t at all seem proportionate to Her age – knowledge and wisdom. She also has uncanny insight and a kind of intuition that borders on psychic (if one believes in that sort of thing). And this is where more than 2/3’s of our issues arise. She can read me, like a book (a simple one with pictures) and I always fail to recall that when lying to Her about my emotional state and its cause(s).
This is a large part of the reason (I think) that I am going to be punished: because this kind of lying – which I often still try to convince myself isn’t lying at all – has caused both of us tremendous grief. The fact that I can’t admit to Her how I am feeling or why based on irrational fears is bad enough in itself. What makes it worse is that once I am found out, I become extremely stubborn and will not admit to anything so as not to make it the case that She was right by accusing me of being dishonest. This aggravates both of us. She pushes for the truth. I withdraw, avoid and develop an attitude that often borders on tantruming (and we all know how much She loves that). This usually ends up with Her angry – as the battle lines are drawn and both of our wills are at stake. Naturally, as the Dominant, it is Her almost God given obligation to correct me – and this usually means that before I realize how much trouble I’m in, I spontaneously find myself being dragged by my hair across Her lap, where I am pinned between Her thighs and getting spanked so hard that my mind insists I won’t survive it.
It’s pretty unpleasant for both of us, although She snaps back into joyful mode as soon as She has broken me if I show genuine repentance. If I don’t, I get threatened with additional, harder and more humiliating spankings and sometimes other punishments until I am left with no choice but to submit. This also means not only accepting punishment without resentment or grudges, but also the worst thing of all – admitting that I was wrong and that I have practiced deception in regards to my Mistress and myself. This of course, is always good cause to invite further punishment. But She is mostly always fair – and so I’ve never really been punished twice in that way. On the contrary, despite Her annoyance at us having to go through this big production to extract the truth from me – usually when it is over, if I am well enough behaved and very sorry, I end up in Her lap gently crying as She pets my head. Sometimes She offers reassurance because She knows I am upset with myself, and She shows by example that She has forgiven me and I should do the same. Sometimes She starts making me laugh by being silly – or distracting me by biting me or inflicting some kind of other pain that amuses Her. And sometimes, if I have been very bad, She will playfully (to Her sadistic satisfaction) humiliate me with all sorts of spanking references until my face is burning so badly with redness that it diverts my attention from the lingering pain of the spanking I just experienced.
This is what happened the last night I was with Her. The first night went very well. I was extremely well behaved, even though I was suffering from this horrible pain in my neck. Concerned and wishing to help, DN (who apparently has magic hands that can soothe just as effectively as they can inflict pain) let me rest in Her lap while She gently eased away the pent-up tension as if She were some kind of holistic healing expert. Like a baby – really, like a baby – within a few minutes, my head dropped and I was soundly asleep in Her arms in what was probably one of the most tender moments I had ever experienced with Her. After a few minutes, She gently rolled me over to my side to sleep beside Her. I woke up feeling very happy and loved and eager to please. She woke up to a very clean house, a well-behaved slave and a mini-feast from Her favorite Asian restaurant J
Night number two also went remarkably well. We were talking about some intimate issues, and I will be brief on this given I believe my readership is compromised primarily of people who are more geared towards traditional domestic discipline. Skip the next few paragraphs if you only wish to read about spankings and punishment.
DIVERT EYES HERE:
Anyway, I was at some point expressing my love for Her and how it was completely independent of how She looks, and all that sappy crap about how She is beautiful always and how I’d still find Her beautiful if She, like Chloe Lane, had the flesh eating bacteria on Her face. I told Her that any time I see Her made up, it really just accentuates what She looks like in Her natural state. Make-up does not make Her look like an entirely different person, which is the magic is does for most of us. She is naturally beautiful. The make-up and lingerie and fetish gear just make Her presence more pronounced, and often more intimidating.
I am not sure what possessed Her to do this, but She decided to go change into lingerie and heels. Because the intimidation for me is so fierce when I see Her like this, I begged Her not to when I saw Her with the bag in Her hand. She brushed me aside in the most dismissive of ways and told me it was Her kidney machine before going into the bathroom. When She came out, my heart began doing odd things – like pounding in unnatural ways. I was torn between wanting to hide myself under the blankets and wanting to examine Her to see if someone so truly stunning could be real. (I still am sometimes convinced that one day I will wake up and realize that something so perfect could only be created by my mind – but then I remember my very imperfect mind could never create something of such magnitude). She kept teasing me by telling me She was only getting ready for bed, even as She started putting on makeup before my very eyes.
She ordered me to lie down when She went to get Her eyeliner or lipstick. I protested, but after She told me I would be in trouble if She found me not following Her instructions – I didn’t know what to do. She was tormenting me. I didn’t fully obey, but I didn’t fully disobey either. I sat up in bed, but I didn’t get out of bed. When She found me that way and I told Her my explanation, She simply smiled and removed one of the belts from its hook and placed it in the middle of the bed, seductively issuing me a warning to be careful. It worked.
The sight of the belt made me cower inside of my skin. I was seized with a momentary sense of dread and embarrassment. She didn’t use it. I couldn’t even bring myself to playfully defy Her once She make that move. I don’t know what would have become of me if She would have spanked me with the belt while looking so unnaturally beautiful and majestic. I have never received a very juvenile punishment when She has been dressed in lingerie or fetish attire.
The first two punishments, She did dress up very dominantly to intensify my mental anguish and intimidate the living crap out of me – but I was bound and spanked with non-traditional domestic implements and so I was spared having to experience that kind of humiliation. I definitely did not feel like a five year old when I was encased in saran wrap being beaten with a paddle that hopefully no one would dare touch a child with. I had only a twelve second confrontation with terror and humiliation when She smacked me with Her hand on both cheeks exactly five times and told me that was my warm up. The tears almost escaped me right then, but I forgot about the humiliation and unique pain once the paddle came out.
Anyway, She played with me a little. She was a little sensual with me, and very seductive in nature using a tone that sent chills up and down my spine (literally). She pulled my hair a little, pinched my nipples between Her fingers and alternated between a few playful (but hard smacks) to my ass and some gentle caressing/scratching. You could not pay me to try to convince you I did not like that. We talked some more and then I cuddled up to Her and we went to sleep.
YOU MAY RETURN YOUR ATTENTION HERE:
We had a good breakfast the next morning, although I always have a little anxiety when we order food now. If She starts to get antsy about how long it is taking for delivery, She threatens me that She is going to start spanking me until the food comes if it doesn’t arrive within exactly five minutes of Her declaration. Thankfully, I have been spared 2 or 3 times because the food arrived within the time limit – but the last thing on the face of the earth that I want is to know the delivery man can hear me being spanked.
After a really delicious breakfast, I developed a slight attitude because I had plans that day I didn’t want to deal with. And I wanted to play with the sponges. She bought these flat sponges that inflate when you hold them under water. She let me try one the night before, but refused this time. I repeatedly asked Her why, even though She gave me an answer 12 times. Finally She dared me to ask Her again, so I did. I just thought I was obeying a direct order, not being defiant J I was then made to get the paddle. I thought for sure She wouldn’t spank me because She was too comfortable on Her new couch and She earlier said She was too comfortable to move. What I didn’t realize is that the couch is pretty perfect for every kind of spanking scene and that She didn’t have to get off the couch to punish me. I ended up over Her knee getting spanked with a long, clear, extremely stingy paddle. She stopped with the paddle for a minute and started using Her hand.
I know very clearly now the feel of Her hand based on the impression it leaves on my ass; it’s not just pain but the physical sensation of feeling Her actual hand print. I started struggling and was on the verge of crying or begging or screaming like a real drama queen when She picked up the paddle again and stopped me in my tracks. I was better able to take the paddle. I didn’t cry, but I was tearing and by the time it was over I was beginning to breathe very heavily. But I retreated into peace and submission when it was over and slid out of position so that I was on my knees with my face in Her lap. She was not really angry at all. She petted my head and asked me if I felt better. My ass would argue this – but emotionally I felt relieved. I thanked Her and then looked at Her as She laughed and told me that spanking wasn’t even five minutes long.
Our eyes both grew large and bright, but for completely different reasons. I was (and am) terrified and She seemed to be beaming with some kind of sadistic excitement about the whole thing. She proceeded to make me lie on the floor, to logistically determine how She is going to spank me. Half the time will be on the floor or some other position, possibly restrained. The other half of the punishment is going to be over Her knee. I tried to talk Her out of this, going so far as to insist it would hurt Her shoulder. She told me that it won’t – but now because I said it, that if it did, I would just get spanked harder and spend more time over Her knee because She would be “furious.”
Then She spent a long time experimenting with humiliation, until at one point I could literally do nothing but crawl up to Her back, hiding my face in Her body, and meekly obey Her commands to participate in this experiment of sorts. I was shaking a little and mentally regressing from being mortified but when She started making me say and do things in relation to the punishment I just received, the only option I was given was to obey or find myself over Her knee again. I obeyed and She halted the torture before I broke. I am not sure I am going to be afforded the same dignity during this 3 day punishment. First of all, humiliation compounds a spanking for me. Second, I am beginning to suspect She likes it. Not a combination that works in my favor.
To make matters worse, She added an extra spanking. For no reason. Well, technically there was a reason, but it’s not what anyone would think. She did not like the fact that the spankings were going to be an hour and fifteen minutes each day. She says an hour and a half sounded better, and so She decided (with a look on Her face as if She were calculating some extremely crucial equation) that She was going to spank me six times each day as opposed to five. I thought for sure She would take it back or tell me She was kidding, but the next time I spoke to Her on the phone – She made mention of me being spanked for four and a half hours as opposed to three hours and forty five minutes. Once She decides something, regardless of the reason, it’s pretty much set in stone. She, seriously, does not see what the big fuss is about spanking me so often – but She’s never been on the receiving end, so I can see why She wouldn’t.
I got another spanking for speaking inappropriately to Her at the store. I walked away, annoyed, because She was taking so long. She had to come look for me and was not happy when She found me. I made a nasty remark, and then followed that with a second nasty remark and was informed, quite loudly that I was going to get another spanking when we got home. This verbal proclamation in front of about four or five people had me so distressed and rattled that I walked into the shopping cart of a little girl who was looking at me in bewilderment. My Mistress went on for about a block, threatening me with all sorts of humiliating spanking references. But then we got to CVS, She informed me She was no longer angry. Luckily for both of us, Her anger subsides much more quickly than my humiliation… and my guilt.
She actually offered to revoke the punishment if I did a good job cleaning Her house. But this caused me to feel immense guilt because I always do a good job cleaning Her house. It’s the one thing I can really do, and I didn’t feel like I deserved to be let out of the punishment. I didn’t want to be spanked. My ass was still sore from the clear paddle, a very awful throbbing kind of sore – but I know that I have a problem with taking advantage when She exercises leniency as opposed to consistency. Subconsciously, it allows me to misbehave knowing there is always the lingering possibility that I will get away with it. Even if I get punished 8 or 9 out of 10 times, sometimes that makes my self-serving interest of misbehaving because I feel slighted, or my feelings are hurt, or like I am misunderstood – kind of worth it. In a moment of brazen honesty, and at great risk to myself, I told Her this and cried a little as She hugged me. She thought about it and told me She actually completely agreed, and that She would punish me, but that She didn’t want me to be so hard on myself because my behavior prior to that was very good and She was very happy and impressed.
Before I left, I got ten lashes with a really heavy whip that had me gasping after the first smack. I was told to be quiet, and I was despite my urges to scream, but I think the flogger was louder than I was and She switched to the red sadistic loop, which is now a black wire loop (She broke the protective part over poor M.J.). She gave me one whack with it playfully before we left for the store. It was over my pants and underwear and I still immediately doubled over in pain. She also gave me one whack with a switch from a tree right where my ass and thigh meet causing me to yelp in pain.
But the punishment was delivered mostly with the wire loop. Now, my Mistress was tapping me with this thing. This coming from a genuine sadist – I honestly did not know She knew how to use an instrument lightly during a punishment. I swear, She must have been hitting me with literally one one-thousandth of Her strength. After the tenth stroke, I turned around a looked at Her in a complete panic once the pain from the TAPS started setting in. I know She wasn’t angry, but She had thought it over and was now in no compromising mood. She sternly told me to turn around and bend over again because I was being punished. I endured another 30 strokes, although I’m not sure how.
I had a delayed reaction. I didn’t cry for about 30 seconds after it was over. But all at once, the pain and my guilt registered and I started to sob until She hushed me. She embraced me and told me that She loved me and that I had been very good. She basically told me not to beat myself up over it, luckily – I don’t have to. I am sure She will do a pretty exemplary job of that for me this week when I see Her!
