Owie

This morning, I felt compelled to confess to my Owner, as I always do when I know I've made an error.  The difference was that first I confessed the short version. But, then.... I felt like I had to provide more information. I knew, already, that Syr was going to punish me.  I also knew that by providing the additional information, I may be in for a worse punishment.  But, I still felt compelled to speak.  Another part of the awakening of how deep this goes.. how unhindered my submission is now.

Syr took me upstairs right away, not swayed from punishing me by my confession.  Following Her up those stairs, knowing we were headed for the privacy of the bedroom, and knowing why - was a part of the punishment itself.  I felt very contrite and very apprehensive.  I dragged my feet, mentally (though not physically, I wasn't taking any chances!)

She sat on the bed, Her new gift from T in Her hand.  I wasn't surprised.  I knew that was what She would be reaching for, for punishment now.

"Down", She commanded and after a bit of fidgeting on my part, and after grabbing a pillow to muffle any involuntary sounds I might make - down I went.

Once my face was buried in the pillow, my bottom high and my arms in front of me, She pulled my pajama bottoms and panties down, exposing my bottom.  I couldn't help whimpering.  The last strike she'd delivered with Her gift two nights prior had been over my pajamas, not on bare skin.

The first one, was light.  She is still adjusting to it.  The second, third, and fourth were quite hard and I stifled myself with the pillow and, without thinking, squirmed my bottom away.  "Don't, or I'll start over." Syr warned, and I got my bottom back up in the air.  There were two more, lighter, strikes and then it was over.  Syr pulled my pajamas and panties back up and I scrunched up close, hugging Her leg and burying my face in Her lap as little tears fell and my Owner pet my head softly.

She spoke firmly, reminding me of the reason for the punishment, and then lifted my chin, "are you ready to be a good girl again?", She asked.  I nodded, "Yes, Syr".

Syr kissed my forehead and we went back downstairs to finish our morning coffee.

While it's true that the emotional and psychological impact of being punished can turn any implement into a tool for punishment, I have to admit that there is a different impact to having a specific implement with such an unpleasant sensation, that I hate, dread, and fear it just by thinking about it.  The impact feels greater, somehow.  And I also know, that it is the one implement I could NOT enjoy in any context.  Other implements can be used in pleasurable ways without feeling like a punishment, but I don't think this one can.

My bottom still remembers the sting of my punishment, and the implement (which needs a name, for convenience of writing about it if for no other reason) is awful - but I am a very grateful slave for those very reasons.  I feel very contained, and very secure... and very... very... aware of my behaviour.