Little again

I haven’t felt really little in ages. RL punishment just hasn’t been a part of our relationship for a long time. But I think that’s changing. It’s weird how something so gentle and loving can regress me so much in age.

It’s my job to clean the house. That’s fair enough. And Q is usually pretty understanding. It’s a big house, after all, and at least he’s not a neat freak. But it’s nice to sweep the dead things out of the corners once in a while. The kitchen is the only area he comes down on me about. He says it’s a hygiene issue. Hygiene, shmygiene. I’m not that fussed, to be honest. I mean, I don’t understand why the floor needs to be clean enough to eat off it. Even if it IS that clean, I’m not eating off it. And anything that gets dropped on it goes straight in the bin. **sigh**

Well, he sat me down last night and asked me how long it had been since I’d cleaned the house. I could see where it was going and I got nervous. This was pretty edgy for me, believe it or not, because any RL issues we’ve had in the past have been dealt with through roleplay. This should have been a Colette scene. I mean, it’s not the nineteen-bloody-fifties. But I knew I had to let go of my independence.

He said the kitchen was in a state and he asked me what he’d said would happen if it got that way again. ‘You said you would spank me,’ I said.

‘Do you deserve it?’


‘Yes what?’

‘Yes, sir.’

So he pulled a chair out into the centre of the room and sat down. He didn’t even bother with a long lecture, but I still felt very little as he took down my pants and panties and pulled me across his lap. He didn’t spank me terribly hard, but somehow the gentleness of it made it even harder to take. I felt like a naughty little girl. But at the same time I felt safe and cared for. And when he was done he picked up the polished ebony hairbrush and gave me six hard strokes as a reminder.

He let me up then and told me to stand in the corner with my hands on my head and my bare bottom on display. I whimpered and shuffled my feet, but I obeyed. It’s hard to stand there, feeling so exposed and vulnerable, knowing he’s right behind me, watching me. And when he called me out I fell into his arms and melted into tears of contrition. My apologies were genuine and I marvelled that he’d made me feel so childlike so effortlessly.

It was scary to go back to that vulnerable emotional place, but I feel looked after and loved, not resentful. I think it marks a change in the relationship. It’s scary. But it’s comforting too. In a weird way.

5 thoughts on “Little again

  1. Haron

    =8-O Welcome to Stepford!
    Your house looked pretty clean to me just a couple of days ago… What’s he on about?
    Seriously, though, these gentle punishments are the pits. So much easier to put on a tough face when there’s something to be tough *over*. When there isn’t – well, there’s also not much between you and that “little” feeling.
    {{{HUGS}}} You poor thing!

  2. domino

    Hmmm… well apart from spankings being Good Things, I think he who requires the kitchen to be clean should clean it himself!! (or hire a maid 🙂

  3. sparkle

    Personally, I favor hiring the maid, Tasha. But that’s because I’m the one at our house who has to use the bleach and scrub brush on harder than rock tile.
    Of course, if the maid didn’t do a good enough job, she could get the spanking from Q. That might be argument enough for doing it yourself …

  4. Mija

    Ooo… spanking the maid for not cleaning well enough. Maybe that would have worked.
    Because of my problem of being very untidy and yet having clutter make me anxious and unhappy (yeah, I know), before Pablo came over to live with me I used to have someone come and do heavy cleaning every two weeks. What that meant was every couple weeks I had to get the decks cleared and so mostly my apartment stayed clean and tidy all the time.
    Pab convinced me that it was shameful (or something like that) that I was doing this… that two adults could keep a small apartment clean without help. I sooo miss that feeling of coming home to a perfectly clean and nice smelling place.
    That said, I’m not sure my cleaner would have been into being spanked.
    Giving them… well, that might have happened. 😉

  5. Mija

    The whole issue of feeling vulnerable when spanked for something real, which I think Tasha was touching on in this post (or at least that’s what I was reading), seems totally in line with my own experience.
    A couple of weeks ago I got a hard slipper and hairbrush spanking. For fun. And even though it was the slipper and then the brush, I was flying. I felt strong and powerful and like I could take anything. Eventually the brush broke through even that and I cried, but it was all the things I don’t normally feel. And I was amazed because my pain tolerance has basically sucked for the last few years. Very cool that.
    So last night, well, I got spanked for something that wasn’t fun. It was a punishment and because Pab felt I’d been taking the whole situation rather lightly, he used the ebony brush (something I didn’t realize was going to happen until I was otk and felt its horrid hard cold back tapping me. This spanking was nowhere near as hard and yet I felt totally vulerable and it was UNBEARABLY painful. I was sobbing and trying to wrench my hands away and flip myself away. After I curled up and bed and cried.
    Happily and naturally I was also comforted.
    This morning I felt so… not sure… protected. And glad that he was taking whatever this is between us seriously enough that I wasn’t going to be able to just make light of things. You know?


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