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When I came home he was busy.  It was my first morning off and I wanted to spend time with him.  I was patient, waiting quietly at his feet.  Occasionally he would ask me a question and I would answer but when I attempted to continue the conversation he would already be immersed in his work.  I tried not to interrupt him but at times I found him growling at me for talking.  I decided to go take a nap.

I went upstairs and then decided to call downstairs to him and ask him if he would tuck me in.  I was hoping maybe we could play for a bit or at least I could curl up next to him.  He sighed and told me that I had been nothing but an interruption all morning.  I told him never mind and closed the door to the bedroom, undressing and crawling into bed.

I began to cry, feeling alone, abandoned and worthless.  My mind replayed his words continually.  I felt like a burden, unwanted and forgettable.  I heard him open the door and sit on the bed next to me.  He asked me what was wrong.

I tried to tell him through my tears.  He told me to get into position.  I shivered as I complied.  I felt the crop drawn across my naked bottom and a gentle tap on each cheek.  He began to talk to me, to draw out of me what was wrong, my fears and insecurities.  He spoke to me of the truth of his feelings for me.  It was difficult to have a conversation feeling so exposed but it kept me in a submissive frame of mind.  I had no desire to accuse or argue, only to listen and accept his words as truth.

When he was done talking to me he told me to crawl down onto the floor and resume my position.  He picked up the large paddle and got behind me.

“How many minutes late did you leave last night?”

“Three…It was 9:48 on the clock in the kitchen”

“So you were still in the kitchen at 9:48?  You should have been in the car by 9:45.  You were 4 minutes late.”  I nodded, arguing would only make the punishment worse – and I believed him.  He is much more aware of time than I am.

“And what was the consequence for being late?”

“Four spankings for each minute I was late,” I groaned.

“You will thank me for each spanking.”


I am not used to having to speak, usually there is some type of cloth in my mouth and a demand for silence.  So the entire process sounded something like

<Smack> “Owww…thank you” <Smack> “Owwww…thank you” <Smack> “Quit moving!” “Owww…thank you”

“Next time it will be eight spankings for each minute late. Do you see how this is going?”

“Yes” I cried turning and kissing his foot.

He told me I would not have time for a nap and to get dressed and come downstairs to make lunch.

I love how this makes the distances between us close so perfectly.  There is no need to fight or blame – no more anger and withdrawal. Just punishment and acceptance and we can have a beautiful rest of the day.