My previous account hints at an earlier spanking for poor spelling. Here’s the actual account, finally.
Once upon a time, many many moons ago, in 1997 when Pablo and I first started falling in love via email and posts to ASS, he wrote a story for me called "Spelling" which was based, in part, on spelling mistakes I’d made in posts and emails to him.
For Christmas the following year he gave me a dictionary. Though life, mine anyway, sometimes imitates art, the dictionary wasn’t used in the following real life story.
The night before last (okay, it’s been closer to a week… I started
writing this on Wednesday), as we were getting into bed, I somewhat
playfully asked for a spanking, commenting that Jeremy, our small
plushy hedgehog pet (he sleeps at the bottom of the bed under the
covers) had been bored lately and had hoped he’d get to see a spanking
tonight. I didn’t expect to get one. Pablo was already in bed (so was
I) plus it was very late *and* I knew we had to get up early the next
day because I had work.
Clearly, I’d forgotten how devoted Pab is to Jeremy’s needs. As he
came around the bed I quickly commented that it was really too late.
When he took my ear and ‘gently’ pulled me out of bed, I knew I was
getting a smacking, but expected something gentle and fun. After all,
I’ve been a very good girl lately.
Stop giggling. I have.
Well, at this point I thought I had anyway.
Bare bottom and OTK, I felt kind of excited and only a little nervous. Then Pablo said…
"Spell ‘cappuccino,’ please."
My heart dropped. I’d asked him how to spell that just the day before.
He didn’t start smacking, he just waited for me.
I took and deep breath and launched into an attempt. And yay! I got it right. So no smacks.
Clearly this was a game. I swallowed hard. I’m a terrible speller.
That I’d gotten this word right was a fluke. And Pablo, well, he’s a
very very good speller. And ALWAYS notices grammar and spelling
mistakes, though he’s generally too nice ::coff:: to say anything about
"You know, pronouncing a word correctly is half the battle for spelling it right."
Oh god. This was not going to get easier. These were to be the words I’ve been mispronouncing and misspelling for a while.
"Say the world for an amusing story or incident. It starts with an "A" and ends in "dote."
I said my version of the word.
The smacks started immediately and I knew I’d gotten it wrong.
They slowed. I tried again. Wrong again.
"But it has to have the word ‘antic" as its root!"
"Spell it for me."
I tried but was wrong twice more. My bottom was getting sore. They
were "only" hand spanks but as I believe I’ve mentioned, Pablo has a
hard and heavy hand. Finally he said the word for me, slowly and
distinctly. And I spelled it right.
It’s spelled ANECDOTE in case you were wondering.
"Now spell the word, also beginning with "a" for the star-shaped symbol on the computer keyboard."
Omigod! I don’t want to bore you, but let’s just say that this one
took even longer than the previous. I was gasping and starting to cry
a bit by the time my wild guesses coupled with Pab’s ever-so-kind hints
led me to ASTERISK.
"This last one is only four letters. It starts with the letter "R" and is used in music. And it isn’t "RIFT."
I was at sea. The smacks started but I couldn’t think of anything.
They smacking got harder. Pab would stop if I started trying to spell
something, waiting for my answer, but now I had none. Finally, I
blurted something out.
"I don’t *know*! RISE?"
"No." The smacking resumed, still harder.
"But I don’t *know*, give me a hint."
"Four letters starting with "R" isn’t enough? Very well. The second letter is "I".
And with that he picked up the hairbrush.
If it had hurt before, it really really hurt now. And I was running
through random letter combinations in my head as he smacked trying to
find something, anything that made sense. Not RISE, maybe RISK? No,
maybe RITE? I tried everything, finally dissolving into tears.
Pab stopped for a moment.
"I give up." I choked out.
He paused, in a way that *seemed* dramatically, at least to me.
"The word," he said "which you *mean* to use frequently is RIFF. Not RIFT, RIFF."
The hairbrush began spanking again, seemingly in great earnestness.
"Do you think you’ll remember?"
By this time I was crying pretty freely and kicking in a quite serious attempted to escape.
"Oh yes yes yes! I’ll remember forever."
And I will too.
Normally this wouldn’t seem like the sort of account I’d put up at The
Punishment Book. But midway through, for me, I suddenly did feel very
badly about how careless I am about spelling when I write. And how for
people, like Pablo, spelling and grammar mistakes can make reading
something they should be enjoying less enjoyable. On some level, these
were things that did annoy him because they were things he did notice.
I knew it was play on some level, that he wasn’t doing this with the
intent of embarrassing me or because he was disappointed in me. And
yet, as he comforted me afterward, I started crying — not from the
pain (that was earlier) but because I felt careless and embarrassed and
(I hate to admit this) relieved that I’d already been spanked for this
now and didn’t need to feel guilty.
And, of course, it made the spanking less than 36 hours later for misplacing my book all the more painful.