Sorry for bit of a cliff hanger on the last post. I had to wrap up as I had things to attend to. Oh the irony if I earned a spanking because I didn’t complete a chore because I was spending too much time writing about a spanking story!
As I shared in that post, I was at the store and was tempted to buy something without permission. I shared before that years ago I went through a compulsive shopping issue. It actually spanned several years. As part of putting my contract together I wanted to be subject to a budget, and it evolved to where I must ask Mike for permission to buy anything other than everyday household items like food and toiletries.
The item was nothing extravagant – it was a simple blender. Ours broke quite some time ago but we rarely use it and didn’t miss having it. But I saw a cute one that was also on sale and I thought it would be fun to get. I imagined the smoothies I could make, both alcoholic and kid-friendly versions. I rationalized that I shouldn’t bother Mike at work with this, and I would just get it. It seemed unnecessary and it was so clear to me we would use and enjoy this blender. I went so far as having it in the shopping cart!
I then had this deja vu moment as thoughts of Post 71. Good Girl came to mind. Not just the feeling I had for transgressing, but also the punishment! Ouch! Yes, the discomfort of a spanking can be a great deterrent. So, I put the blender back on the shelf! Win for DD. Win for Jenny.
This happened during the day while our son was at school. Mike was working for home. When I got home I shared this story with Mike thinking he would have the same sense of accomplishment for what our DD had done to help me mend my ways. Instead, he sternly spoke to me.
He said, “Jen, yes, I am very happy you didn’t buy something without permission. That would have certainly been bad to do, but, that doesn’t excuse how close you came to trying to rationalize actually buying it. It concerns me that you went so far as to have the item in your basket. While you should have a sense of accomplishment for putting it back, I none-the-less feel a responsibility to address your actions.” He went on to say that he felt it wasn’t enough for a punishment to serve as a deterrent. He felt part of the goals of DD, as I have expressed them, were to actually change my thoughts and behaviors. While clearly it changed my behavior — I didn’t get the blender — it didn’t change my thoughts.
There was silence when Mike was done speaking. I didn’t know how to react and frankly there wasn’t anything I could say. Trying to defend my actions would make it worse, and part of me understood what he was saying. It was just so disappointing to go from this emotional high of thinking of this as a triumphant “win” to the sudden and jarring conclusion that it wasn’t. I could tell Mike was thinking about what to do.
He told me to go to our room, put on the tack bra, and sit and write lines. I would keep writing until he came to the room. The line was, “I will always ask Sir for permission to buy something that I am not allowed to buy without his permission.” He had me repeat the assignment to ensure I understood it. He then told me to go our room. Walking there I kept repeating the line to myself so I wouldn’t forget it.
He came into the room about 10 minutes later. I had written 12 lines. He told me to lay on our floor, face down, hands behind my back while he reviewed my lines. This pressed the tacks firmly against my breasts. He then told me all 12 were incorrect. I left off the word “his” as the second to last word. He also did not like the way I wrote the word “permission” as it was messy on four of the lines. He said that is 16 mistakes, and thus would earn me 32 spankings, two for each error.
He then said I had 10 more minutes of writing and he expected to see 15 perfect lines. He would add another 2 spankings per error and add 2 spankings per word that I was short. In other words, there were 20 words in the line. If say I only got to 14 lines at the end of 10 minutes, he would add 40 spankings (20 x 2). He had me repeat these rules back to ensure I understood them.
He had me get up off the floor and told me not to adjust my bra and to sit and write. He got out his phone and started the stop watch and said, “your time starts now.”
I’ve had to write lines before, and I’ve been timed before, but never had him there staring at me. Also, when I’ve been timed I have been able to look at a clock so I could tell how I was progressing and whether or not I should try to speed up or not. It was terrible not knowing how much time was elapsing. Adding to this was the sharp pains in my breasts where several tacks were poking me something fierce.
I was trying not to think much about the time and concentrate on my penmanship, but when I finished the eighth line I did think to myself, “okay, just over half way done and I think that was about five minutes.” When I got through with line 12 i thought, “well, that’s as far as I got last time and I am going a little faster, so probably have a few minutes left. It will be close.” Line 13, “I will always ask Sir for permission to – “STOP!”
Mike told me time was up.
He told me to get back on the floor on my stomach while he reviewed my work. 10 words left on line 13, plus the 20 for line 14 and 15. So 50 missing words. That’s 100 spankings.
He then said, “Again, you wrote the word “permission” a bit sloppy.” One…two…three…four…five times. And on two of the lines you didn’t capitalize “Sir.”
That’s seven mistakens, for 14 more spankings. So let’s see, 32 + 100 + 14. That’s 146. What do you think of that?”
What was I to say other than, “I think this is good. Thank you, Sir.” He then said, “Well, not quite good enough.”
“I am going to give you your 146 spankings, then you are going to sit on what will be your red ass and you will write the word “permission” two hundred times. We will then see if there are more spankings to come.”
Up to this point I was very composed. He had me stand up and he removed my bra. There were several tacks imbedded in my breasts such that my bra stayed stuck to me even though it was unclasped and the straps were off my shoulders. He pulled gently to fully remove the bra. There was a short-lived but sharp sting as the tacks came out of my breasts. While not overly painful, it made me start to cry. As I shared in the prior post, I don’t cry that much over a punishment and when I do, it is mostly about what I was feeling at this moment.
I was feeling very humbled and very remorseful. The issue of controlling my shopping habits has a long and painful past. I was feeling the guilt of those past transgressions, a guilt I thought had left me for good, but re-emerges anytime I make this type of mistake.
Further adding to my emotions was a part of me that was saying to myself “but I did so good in putting it back.”
Mike said not all the spankings would be on my butt. He went “Catholic school nun” on me and gave me 10 strikes with the ruler on each palm. Those actually hurt more than spankings. He then administered the remaining 132 on my butt, a combination of hand, belt, paddle, and wooden spoon. The majority were with the spoon. He said he choose the spoon because it was a kitchen item and thus seemed appropriate since this was prompted by a blender.
YET MORE LINES
My butt was very red, sore, and ultimately bruised. It was hard to sit and write “permission” 250 times, especially as my palms were still stinging as well. He didn’t give me a time limit and it took about 30 minutes to complete. I brought my papers to his office and he reviewed the lines. He asked me if I were him, how many mistakes would I find. I told him while every line was not identical, I felt they were all extremely legible and clear. I always get a little nervous when he asks me to critique myself. Luckily, he agreed.
I noticed that he had a butt plug, lube, and a ball gag at his desk. He told me he wasn’t quite done with me yet. He had me bend over as he inserted the plug and then he told me to stand in the corner in his office with my hands clasped behind my head. He put in the ball gag and as I stood in the corner he rubbed my red butt and gave me five or six quick swats by hand. At that time I didn’t expect more spankings and was now unsure of what was to come. I was already quite sore and I immediately started to cry.
He gave me several more by hand and then explained that this was specifically for the transgression regarding the blender whereas the other spankings were over the mistakes in my lines. He then spanked me some more by hand, maybe another 15 or so, then sat back down at his desk and went about his work. I cried for several more minutes.
If you aren’t familiar with ball gags, they can make the jaw uncomfortable after five minutes or so, but more than the discomfort, it is the drooling that bothers me the most. Quite a bit of spit ends up dripping down on and between my boobs and it just feels uncomfortable. Add to that the tears and snot from crying and well, you get the picture.
About fifteen minutes later he walked over, removed the plug and bit, and we had our Closing Ceremony. That was that. All was forgiven. I left his office, cleaned up, and went about my day.
As I reflect on this punishment, I think about what if Mike had looked at my actions the way I initially did – as a triumph! Would the encouragement and recognition of a job well done been more effective than a punishment? Hard to say, but I believe Mike’s actions were justified given my history with shopping. It is a history I need to always keep in mind so that next time, I don’t even think to put the item in the basket. There are reasons I agreed to asking Mike for permission, and reasons I wanted his help in addressing my bad habits. I accept his judgement that a punishment was in order and believe it will help ensure my compliance with the commitments I have made to him and to myself. And ultimately, that is what my Domestic Discipline is all about.