Archive for the ‘punishment’ Category

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i will obey my bedtime

March 24, 2010

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i just finished typing that subject line out 50 times, as part of my punishment for staying up past my bedtime last night. i was chatting with N just before bed, and got caught up in our phone conversation, and let the time slip away. And worse yet, didn’t let my Master know that i was doing it, so as far as he could tell, i just disappeared from online and never said good night.

When he got online this morning he let me know that he’d be punishing me for disobeying my bedtime. The lines were part of that. i also had to write him an apology and explanation of why it was important.

Writing up that apology brought up a lot of thoughts and emotions for me.

i am struggling right now, in the ever evolving flows of the peaks and valleys of my submission. i want to embrace opportunities for fun and connection with people. Dating N is bringing that to the forefront, certainly, but there are other times too when interactions with others butt up against agreements and responsibilities to my Master.  And i feel a lot of tension in those moments about obeying vs doing what i want to do.

And i struggle in those moments with trying to reconcile the reasons why for these constraints. The easy answer is that i can’t do these things because i am owned, and i’ve given the responsibility for making those decisions/ choices to my Master. But then i start pondering why i’ve given that responsibility to Him, why i have chosen to be owned, and things get very complicated in my head very quickly, and quite frequently in directions i don’t want my thoughts to be going.

There was a point in our history where submission was so ultimately fulfilling to me, that it overshadowed any other needs. But i don’t feel that in the same way now. So it’s easy for me to submit when it’s things i want to do or don’t mind doing. It’s much harder for me to submit when it means i have to say no to things that i do want to do. When i feel like stomping my feet like a little kid whose mother says she can’t watch one more TV show. In the place i’m at in my submission right now, it’s really hard for me to remember/ recognize/ feel/ experience the rewards from the denial, from doing the hard thing. And then i feel really bad for letting my Master down like i did last night, while still wanting to struggle against the constraints.

i love my Master so very very much. i really do.  He is a treasure in my life, in so many different ways, many of which my readers never see because they’re outside of the scope of what i talk about in the space. And i get frustrated with myself when i feel like i’m not giving back to Him as much as He gives to me, when i feel like i am letting Him down.

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Hard Week

July 26, 2009

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It’s been a really rough week. My Master and i have both been very busy, and our schedules have rarely aligned. Early in the week my Master told me to put my buttplug in, and i had to admit that i’d failed to put my toy bag into the purse i was carrying that day. He’s not been having me use my toys hardly at all, and i’ve gotten lazy about making sure i have them with me. So it was completely my fault, and i expected to be punished.

But the punishment He gave me was something that i just couldn’t do. i tried to think it through, figure out how to make it work without it being a real problem for my personal and professional life, and i just couldn’t do it.  And i felt horrible about it, knowing that i had disappointed Him. i still feel horrible about it. And because of our schedules, we have not really had time to talk about it, if He is even willing to talk about it.

Between that and some other things that are going on regarding my modes of conversation and level of “agreeableness,” i feel like He is always either upset or angry with me, or disappointed in me.  i feel like i just can’t do anything right, and don’t deserve to be His submissive.

All of this is happening leading up to a visit. i get to see Him in 3 days. i miss Him tremendously. i want to show Him that i can be His good girl. i feel lucky that i get to see Him – after the week we’ve had, i spent half the time wondering if He’d tell me not to bother getting on the plane Wednesday.

But i do get to see Him. And i have never craved punishment as much as i am craving it now. i need for Him to do something so that i can be forgiven and we can move forward, because i am just feeling so awful all the time now, and i can’t be a good submissive to Him that way either.

i hope that this visit will be renewing and reconnecting. i hope i can find that inner core of my submission, and bring it back up to the surface, and show my Master that i really do want to be His good girl. But it is all being really hard for me right now, and i don’t feel very confident in myself.

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Naughty Sub

July 7, 2009

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i’m supposed to go without panties on the first day after my period ends. This month’s period was sorting of dragging along, and by the time i was sure i was done – yesterday – it didn’t seem like the first day after my period anymore, and i forgot the rule.

Late in the afternoon, i got an email from my Master asking why i was wearing panties, and i had to admit that i’d forgotten. He told me to take my panties off and shove them down my pants. i had to wear them like that for the rest of the day/evening. Fortunately, i was wearing tight-ish jeans, so i didn’t have to worry about them going anywhere. But not so tight that there was too much of an obvious lump.

The punishment certainly kept me aware of my cunt and my mistake and my submission, and i was very aroused and wet when i was finally able to take them out of my pants as i got ready for bed last night.

Thank You, Sir.

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Service through injustice

November 25, 2008

Early last week, my Master gave me instructions to wear a particular outfit to work the next day. But i didn’t have the hosiery he was looking for, so he let me wait until i could go shopping. Then i got sick, and it’s a few days later before i’m able to pull together the outfit that he wanted. i was so excited that morning, dressing for Him, with a new jacket i knew He’d love to complement the rest of the outfit.

Except i wore the wrong shoes.

He said Oxfords, i read Mary Janes, and had that firmly implanted in my brain as what i was supposed to wear with my pretty new patterned hose. i never went back to the original email to double check the instructions, because i “knew” what they were, and it can be hard to find one specific email amidst the hundreds we send.

But i did dash off a quick request for confirmation to my Master. “The rest of the outfit is new black skirt and black Mary Janes, right?” He wrote back saying he’d been thinking the gray skirt, but the black would be fine, and i went upstairs to get dressed.

A couple hours later, i’m at work, i send him the pictures, and i have one extemely unhappy Master. He’s been waiting on this outfit for days, and he’s going to be on a trans-Atlantic flight later that day, so – while i can fix it and take the right pictures when i get home – he’s going to be traveling and not able to see them.

He’s annoyed and frustrated, and he takes it out on me. i can tell He’s disappointed and upset as i read His instructions – a long apology from me, then 50 lines of “i will pay better attention to my instructions,” then another long apology.  And “I might punish you more later,” he says.

My first reaction was injustice.  “Sure, i hadn’t gone back and read the email, but i’d confirmed the outfit with Him that morning,” i thought indignantly . But we have been talking a lot about punishment and letting go. That accepting punishment – particular for something that was out of my control or that i don’t think i deserved – was a way of letting go of control.

i wasn’t quite capable of completely letting go – i did have to send a contrite but defensive “i know i should have done better, but i checked with You this morning!” email first. But then i looked inside myself, and found a way to write a sincere and submissive apology, while simultaneously accepting that it was perhaps a mostly injust punishment. After all, i should have been more attentive to His instructions in the first place.

As i wrote out my 50 lines i began to understand that this was less about fault, and more about my Master taking out his frustrations on me. And – here’s the epiphany – that accepting that punishment, letting Him lash out a little, was an act of service and submission. He needed to work out His emotions, and i was His canvas to do that, and the punishment his medium. With that thought, those 50 lines became a meditation on submission and service, rather than injust make-work. When i finished, i was able to write an even more sincere and submissive apology.

Not very much later, He mentioned in an email to me that accepting the blame, letting him take out his frustrations, was a way of submitting. To which i could reply that i’d already figured that out, and thank Him for showing me a different way to serve Him.

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Ominous Counting

February 12, 2008

There’s a lot of ominous counting going on in my life right now. It started when i missed my bedtime one night, and Master replied with an emailing saying “Let’s keep count then. That’s 1.”

i’m up to four now. 2 was forgetting to send Him a description or pictures of the clothes i was wearing. 3… well, i probably should gotten multiple numbers for 3, because i was needy and selfish and not behaving as a submissive should, and well, the less said about that the better. 4 i just got right now, for forgetting my smartballs at home. And really, coming off the heels of 3 just yesterday, i should have been on my absolute best behavior and dotting all my i’s and crossing all my t’s, not being sloppy, so i’m really disappointed in myself for not doing better.

On the positive side, i’m also counting down the number of days until i see my Master again, and that number is now a joyous 3. i expect i’ll find out then what this ominous counting is going to translate into, and in the meantime, i really really need to be on my best slavegirl behavior and not let the ominous number get any higher.

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Body Betrayal, Part 2

December 29, 2007

(Read Part 1)

i sent off my morning email to my Master, admitting my mistake, and begging for his forgiveness and correction. His response put a flicker of fear into my heart.

I’ll work on your punishment later, but this was the last orgasm you’ll be allowed to have this year.
Touch yourself and make sure you’re still wet.

The flicker, of course, from that first line – this aroused, and no orgasm for at least 5 days? And that’s NOT my punishment? Oh boy.

i was still wet, of course. Dripping wet. Wet as i dressed for Master, choosing clothes that would make for a particularly nice photo session for Him, including a sheer black g-string and matching bra. Wet as i gathered up my butt plug and lube, and ankle cuffs and a clip to bind my legs together. Wet and fantasizing all manners of use and abuse during my drive to the office.

Once there, He had me start with my little butt plug. This one is so small that i mostly just find it annoying – it slips out, and bends, and just doesn’t do much of interest. But after wearing it for a half hour i was allowed to put in my larger plug, something i had been craving for a couple of days. Ahhh…. lovely.

My Master teased and taunted me all day long – making me check my wetness regularly then reminding me constantly that i wouldn’t be able to come until the new year. Having me rub my nipples, and take and send lots of pictures – all things guaranteed to keep me in a high state of arousal.

Even though it’s not usually required, that day i felt like i needed to ask Him for permission to use the bathroom. i am His piss slut, after all. He gave it, reminding me to listen to my heels clicking on the floor as i walked there, their clicks calling me “slut, slut, slut.” In the bathroom i peed for Him, remembering that i am His piss slut. My panties were soaked with my cunt juices, and their glistening on the fabric was too much for me. i finished peeing, and leaned over, pulled the panties to my mouth, and licked off those delicious juices.

And so the day went on. i don’t know what had come over me, but i was utterly possessed by a wanton, horny, dirty slut. i begged to do things i had only previously imagined – some that i had never even imagined before. A conversation about His intention to someday have me piss my pants led to me suggesting that these sheer panties i was wearing wouldn’t hold much liquid, and i could probably pee right through them without any wetness coming through my pants afterwards. And then begging him to let me do that.

in the bathroom, i pulled my pants down, leaving my panties on. i played with my nipples as i peed my panties, feeling the wetness gather in the panties before spilling over. i was incredibly aroused, and when i finished peeing, i pulled my panties down, leaned over, and sucked my piss from the crotch, the taste of it mingling with the taste of my cunt juices.

i pulled my damp panties back up, and then my jeans over them, the dampness against my crotch reminding me of what i am – a horny slut who is submissive, wet, and eager to please her Master. A horny slut looking forward to a rare private evening at home, with lots of time for her Master to play with her.

(Read Part 3)

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A spanking story

November 21, 2007

The other day, my Master told me that He wanted a fantasy in His inbox when He woke up – no excuses – and that i’d better make it one that He’d like. i had a really hard time coming up with something to write about – being made to write on command gives me performance anxiety like nothing else! i wished for a moment that we were like those couples for whom physical punishment was part of the dynamic – where if i didn’t follow His instructions, i’d get some theoretically awful (but ultimately delicious) punishment. But my punishments run to cold showers instead, and i really hate disappointing my Master (even aside from the cold shower part!) But now that i was thinking about punishment, i finally had something to write about.

***

“Get over here,” You commanded, and i moved quickly to kneel in front of You.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, and disappointed me. You know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” i muttered quietly. “Bad girls get a spanking.”

“That’s right,” You said, and You pulled me up onto your lap, over your knee. Then You pulled my short schoolgirl skirt up (not that it needed much up) and pulled my lace panties down around my knees.

“Ten to begin, I think,” You said. “Count them for me.”

And then Your hand struck my bare bottom. Hard. This was not play. This was not a warm up. This was punishment for disappointing my Master. i yelped, but followed that up with a quick “One!”

By the time You reached ten, i could feel the heat radiating off my bottom, and i could imagine that it must be quite pink.

“What do you have to say for yourself, slavegirl?”

“Your slavegirl is very, very sorry, Sir. Please forgive me for my mistake?” i muttered meekly.

“I don’t think you’re nearly contrite enough yet,” You said. “Let’s see what I can do about that.”

And with that, You picked up a hard wooden paddle and began to spank me with it. i cried out in pain, and my body involuntarily tried to pull away, to escape the paddle on my behind.

“Stop squirming,” You commanded, and i did, steeling myself to stay in position, breathing deeply as You continued to spank my sore red bottom, alternating between the heavy thud of the paddle and the quick sting of your hand.

You hadn’t asked me to count, and i couldn’t have, i was so lost in the red hot pain, barely capable of breathing, but relying on those breaths to guide me through the pain. Eventually i began to shake, and then to cry, and then i was begging You between my sobs.

“Please, please, please, Sir, please forgive me. i promise i won’t do it again. i promise i’ll do anything You ask, be Your perfect slavegirl. i’m so sorry i disappointed You, please Sir, please forgive me.”

You never stopped spanking me as i sobbed out those words, but as my words evolved into simply moans, You stopped. And pulled me into Your arms. And kissed me deeply.

“Yes, my dearest slavegirl, i do forgive you.”