dianagddssgirl on Collarspace

11/3/2008 1:23:05 PM

A PUNISHMENT STORY
by Diana

This is LONG for a Journal entry. Skip to the next entry if you'd just like to read regular entries.

So, the submissive spends a great deal more clothes shopping than she had been given permission to spend.

The young lady comes home to her Sir who allows her to 'model' the clothes. Although he's watching television and petting the dogs, he mumbles, "That is lovely. You look fantastic in that," as she walks through. When she came in with the last outfit on, he said, "Too bad you went over your limit. Remove the new clothes you are wearing and bring yourself to me naked."

Girl, unsure whether she'd been able to sway her Sir into accepting the purchases, but confident he wanted her to be happy, she went back to her room, removed the clothes and returned to her Sir.

Sir pointed to the floor and said, "On your knees."

Girl stepped closer to him and dropped to her knees. 'This didn't seem like the way Sir would go about telling me how much he likes my purchases,' she thought to herself.

"Do you know what you did that has displeased me?" he asked.

'Damn,' she thought. 'I might not have gotten away with it.' "Yes, sir," she said.

"Tell me," he commanded.

Her voice strong at first, she responded, "I spent more than you said I could, more than we agreed upon." Despite her best efforts at strength and pride, the second clause came out with a slight tremble.

"That's right. I am very disappointed in your disobedience. Do you understand?" he asked.

She felt a chill begin between her shoulders. "Yes, sir," she replied, blinking to maintain composure.

He adjusted his glasses back up his nose - a habit she'd noticed he had when delivering a punishment, "Do you know what you are going to do?"

"No, sir," she replied.

"Tomorrow, you are going to return the clothes. Then you are going to write a two-page essay on why we watch our budget and present it to me when I come home from work. If I am pleased with the essay and you return the clothes as instructed, and if you present a proper attitude, you may ask that I grant you the paddling you will need to be done with this." Sir paused. He knew this would be a serious, difficult punishment. Normally, Girl could take a paddling as punishment. It hurt and she might cry, but it didn't necessarily stop the poor behavior. However, she did *need* it to consider herself forgiven. "Do you understand?" he asked.

Girl bit the inside of her lip and felt the outside corners of her eyes pinch as she processed her Sir's pronouncements. So much was going on in her head at this moment. 'Wow! He came up with a good punishment and has delivered it really well. There's a good chance, if he goes through with it, that I will *never* overspend again.' 'Shit! I spent 4 hours trying on dozens of things and only got the really useful pieces! Plus, I'm really tired!' "Yes, sir," she replied quietly through a tight throat.

"Do you have any questions?"

Girl was trying to make her fears go away by shutting down the worry-thinking process. Her thoughts finally came to rest on a pertinent issue. "All the clothes?" she whispered. "Do you want me to return all the clothes, sir?"

He looked at her, reading her face to see how far the lesson needed to go. "No," he decided. "Just enough to get down the total under our agreed-upon amount."

Deciding which clothes to keep wasn't easy, but Girl did so, then drove to the mall. The experience of handing the clothes over and asking for a refund was somewhat embarrassing, but as this chore was required, Girl squared her shoulders, worked up a story for the cashier and completed the task. The second task would be easier in that the reasons for keeping to a budget were all there in her mind. She would only need to put them into sentences and a comprehensible format.

The capacity to purchase anything of large or of lasting value depended on one's credit rating. Credit rating depended on paying bills on time and paying bills depended on having the money to do so. Having money to pay the bills meant paying attention to one's budget and not spending more than was allocated in each category. Without good credit, they wouldn't be able to handle emergencies like when the washing machine, dishwasher, refrigerator or car fails. They would not be able to buy a car or a house as needed.

Girl had done really well with budgeting in high school and college when her only bills were for clothes, gas and phone; and her dates or parents paid for meals. Once she and her first husband began sharing financial responsibilities, she was consistently unable to turn down the idea of eating out. Over time, her credit usage had far outstripped her income. It was time to learn or re-learn proper money management.

Sir wasn't very good with money management, either, but there was no one to correct his behavior. Worse than being punished himself, when he punished his girl for her disobedience, he would experience her pain. He would know in his heart the agony of every paddle stroke when her dry lips parted in grunts, cries and moans; her face broke into sweat and her legs unconsciously straightened up, pulling her ass away from the powerful swats. That would be his punishment. They would learn together.

Typing away on the essay, Girl thought about not asking for the paddling. Sir had not said she had to take it. She considered the exchange ...
"Do you have something to ask me?" he might ask.
"No, sir. You didn't say I had to," she could respond.
His left eyebrow would raise just a bit and a wry grin would cross that side of his face as he responded in a resigned, you're-going-to-regret-it voice, "Okay."

'Damn him,' she thought. He's right, even in my imagination! Without the paddling, I will become irritable and fidgety. Sometime after accidentally breaking something or running into several pieces of furniture and snapping at Sir, I would either continue getting worse with the frustration and irritability or finally give in and ask for the paddling, at which point, Sir might say, "No," or devise something worse. 'Fuck!'

Girl closed her eyes and calmed herself, then began to think about how she would present herself and what words she would use to ask for the paddling.

At 6:15pm, Girl placed a fresh glass of Sir's tea on the lampstand by the couch. Naked, with the essay in her hands, she waited to hear Sir's car in the carport. When he drove up, she unlocked the door, then made her way back to the sit on the couch. Sir entered the door, loved on the pets, then locked them out back. When he sat on the couch, he pointed to Girl and indicated the floor. She moved to kneel at his feet, picked up his tea and handed it to him with the receipt indicating the returns and the essay. With his left hand holding the tea and the paper, Sir caressed her face with his right. Girl felt the sorrow through his fingers and knew the depth of disappointment and unhappiness her actions had brought him.

When Sir finished the essay, he nodded his head in approval. Girl swallowed and began her speech, "If my actions and words meet with your approval, I ask that you grant me the paddling that I need and deserve." Chills ran down Girl's arms and spine, and her face contorted with the battle between her pride, her need, shame at having misbehaved, anger at having such a painful need, and delight that Sir cared so deeply for her.

'In many ways,' Sir thought, 'the punishment is done. This level of discomfort tells me that she has gotten the lesson.' He observed Girl sitting in a kneel, trying not to fidget, trying to keep her eyes focused in one area, trying not to bite her lips. 'However, the psyche of Girl is such that, if I don't paddle her now and paddle her hard; she will not forgive herself. She will be mad at me and will probably be more confused about what is expected of her behavior. That will lead to her being more depressed and acting out.'

"By how much did you overspend?" Sir asked.

Girl swallowed, her eyes pinched and she bit her lips together. "One hundred forty-seven dollars, sir," she responded

"Go get the paddle," he told her.

Sir made certain that every swat was at least close to a 7. Seven, eight, nine, nine point eight, hitting very close to their limits; he swatted in an even tempo, allowing girl time to breathe. The kadima paddle was large, a heavy, sturdy material that spread swats evenly, not leaving a mark, but leaving a burn that felt like flesh had been stripped from the bone. Every now and then, he would do three quickly. Girl responded with fierce fighting against her own displays of anguish, but Sir wanted to change the pace, not allowing girl to get comfortable with any part of the punishment and, more importantly to him, get through the number of swats more quickly. She had trouble counting the quick ones aloud. He granted her a moment to catch her breath after 25, then had her kneel in a corner after 50.

"You have a few minutes to meditate on the importance of respectful obedience and the importance of keeping your finances under control while I refresh my energy," Sir said.

"Yes, sir," she responded.

Sir had some tea and watched a few minutes of the news.

"Come to me," Sir said.

Girl got up and walked towards her Sir. He pointed to the floor and she knelt. "Why are you being paddled?" he asked.

Girl bit her lip and swallowed, then collected her thoughts and stated, "I disobeyed you and overspent on clothes."

"That's why you had to return the clothes and write the essay. Why are you being paddled?"

Tears filled the wells around Girl's eyes. She felt pressure around the outsides of her eyes and in her nose. She struggled to remain calm. She struggled to make her mind settle into giving her words to say. "Because it is my nature to need this to feel forgiven ... and loved," she said. Hiccups and tears came with the last two words and she pulled a couple of Kleenex to stem the flow and pull herself back together. The pain of her ass burning was not the reason for her tears. Those 50 swats had hurt and still burned, but they weren't beyond her tolerance level. She cried because she had disappointed Sir, because the Universe or God or whoever had cursed her with a painful need, because she was with someone who loved and cared for her enough to take her through this agonizing process.

Sir beckoned her forward and she cried into his lap. So much of Sir's being wanted to end the punishment right then. The need for physical punishment was not a part of his psychological makeup, so it was hard for him to understand this need in his girl. The bravest, most understanding part of him pulled lightly at girl's arm. He inclined his head at her place on the couch. "We have something to finish," he said.

Again, Sir swatted with 7s, but used more 8s and 9s. He allowed her a moment's rest after 25 and sent her back to the corner after 50. Girl's ass really burned, now. She wondered if she would be able to take more.

Sir drank some of his tea and seemed to watch the news. Actually, he watched Girl's body and listened carefully to her sounds. He knew the empathetic agony he felt was the genesis of the famous, "This is gonna' hurt me more than it's gonna' hurt you," statement.

"Come to me," he said after a few minutes. Girl got up and walked towards Sir who motioned to the floor. When she knelt, Sir handed the essay to her. "Read it to me," he stated.

Terror flashed through Girl's mind. She didn't think she'd be able to get through the words without breaking down, but she'd be damned before she would say, "No." No way would she show that level of anguish and discomfort. Perhaps in some part of her mind she realized that Sir was intentionally pushing her to the breaking point because well-learned lessons did not need to be repeated. In that part of her mind, she was glad he was doing this - the kneeling in the corner, the repeated questions, having her read that damned essay, taking those awful, burning swats - eventually, when it was over, she would be so very deeply grateful and tremendously proud that she endured so much.

She read the essay, cried into Sir's lap, then was led to resume her punishment position on the couch. Sir did not grant any more 7s. Each swat was an 8 or higher. Girl could not hardly force her back and ass to hold their "target" position. Sir allowed her a moment after the first 15, then after the next 10. He delivered two sets of five swats fast, then let her gather herself for a moment. Girl's arms shook as she tried to hold herself still. Her shoulders were hunched up to her chin as her head tried to hide in her chest. Sweat poured down her forehead and spine.

"You will not overspend again. Understood?" Sir asked.

Breathing heavily, through thick tears and mucous, Girl responded, "Yes, sir."

"You can endure the rest of your punishment. You're a strong girl. You will know you can do what is needed to take care of yourself, me and our home. You can take it. Understood?"

She struggled to stop biting her lips, took as deep a breath as she could and pushed her shoulders down to as close to a relaxed position as possible. "Yes, sir," she responded.

Sir began again, secure in the knowledge that he was close to the end. He had delivered 135 swats and was shooting for 150. He could stop at 147, the precise number of dollars that had been overspent, but he knew she needed the rounded-up number. Less would leave her wondering if she was tough enough to endure, angry that he hadn't thought she was strong enough or deserving enough. He wanted his girl, his woman to feel powerful and capable. She would take all one hundred fifty and she'd take them as mostly 9s.

Girl cried out in agony after nearly every one of Sir's powerful swats. Her ass felt shredded and on fire.

"You will take these last five and know that your punishment is complete and that you can handle anything. Understand?" Sir asked. Girl struggled to nod her head and mumbled an assent. Sir took a breath, centering himself for the coming onslaught, then delivered five 10s to his girl's tortured ass.

After allowing her a moment to cry and pulling himself together, Sir tossed the paddle behind him and leaned forward to hug his girl. He pulled her close to him, loaded with Kleenex between her face and his chest, and let her sob while he held her. A bystander, watching, would be filled with heartbreaking joy to see the depth of care between the two, the intense satisfaction of physical and emotional needs met. Sir held girl, and dabbed at her tears. He wanted it to be over, but knew this part was just as important as all the others. They both needed time to decompress.

Girl thanked him, over and over. She apologized for her misbehavior and promised to never do it again. These words weren't necessary for him, because he knew the lesson was learned.

"Go get me some more tea, girl," he ordered.

-* FINIS *-