A First Punishment…

No, it won’t be the first (nor, I think I can safely say, last) punishment, in my 4 plus years with my Master. But, it was a first time for this sort of punishment (sadly, also probably not the last), and my first time writing for The Punishment Book, which makes enough firsts to inform the title, I say!

In my last post on my blog, “New World Order,” I wrote about the new arrangement my Master and I have come to, regarding discipline and punishment and how they will fit in our lives. In it, I discuss the dubious joys of Cod Liver Oil….

Well, now I’ve had a taste of it, and let me tell you, no “spoonful of sugar” is gonna help that medicine go down!

But before I get to that, I should discuss why this sort of thing is going to be happening to me at all.

I blame Tom & Jerry. It was after seeing the cartoon “Baby Puss,” as a wee girl that I became obsessed with the idea of “Castor Oil” as a punishment. (Of course, the reason I’d paid such attention to the cartoon in the first place was that it starts with the threat of a spanking with a hairbrush! It also left me with some other interesting ideas, but that’s a post for another time!)

Uncyclopedia humorously states: “Castor Oil is one of the oldest forms of punishment for children, with use going back to the Neolithic era. Until the early 1980s parents found it almost as effective as spanking, although it has, along with lynching, suffered a downturn in recent years due to political correctness.”

Continuing in the humour, this time unintentional, The New York Times published an article called “Subsitutions” on April 4, 1884, which includes this jewel: “So great is the juvenile horror of castor-oil that all parents know that not even the threat of a severe flogging can induce a small-boy [sic] to swallow the nauseous dose … It follows that castor-oil as a punishment in schools is far more to be dreaded than flogging, and should it be generally adopted, small-boys will everywhere petition for the restoration of the rod.” (For any spanko, it’s worth reading the whole thing!)

And from the wonderful CorPun website, we get the “Home Office internal memorandum, 14 June 1923 Knowle Hill (Kenilworth, Warwickshire) Training School for Girls Notes by Miss Wall.” After an “Outbreak Of Insubordination” (whee!):

“Miss Langley then spoke of Ethel Milton, 13-5/12, who had had 12 strokes of the tawse on the seat. She said that a few days after this Ethel started bouncing a ball in the passage and knocking it against the office door on purpose. She did not feel that Ethel had sufficiently recovered from corporal punishment on the seat for her to administer another whipping, so she said she was to have one tablespoonful of castor oil. This she refused, so she was given two, which she took.”

Whoops! That was a punishment fail, at least for Miss Ethel Milton!

It continues: “I asked Miss Langley to discontinue giving castor oil as a punishment […] I also asked Miss Langley to consider whether, now that the school was in better order, she would be able to administer corporal punishment on the hands instead of on the seat. She demurred about this and said the girls had been told they would get it on the seat, and she did not think they would pay attention to any milder form of corporal punishment. She also said that she understood it could be administered on the seat to a girl of any age, under or over 16, and said she felt entitled to give it to a girl of 18 if the case necessitated it.”

Back in the states, it was also used for corporal punishment:

“Another form of punishment my parents applied was a good dose of Castor Oil. This was usually meted out whenever we kids dared “sass” our parents. Don’t ask me what how a dose of castor oil was supposed to cure a “sassy mouth,” since it gave you the squirts; but believe me, it worked, perhaps because it tasted almost as vile as Lifebuoy soap. But the worst—even worse than Lifebuoy soap and castor oil—form of punishment my parents delivered was the ‘Switch.’ ”

(The article continues, divertingly: “But my parents, being innovative, found another use for their peach trees, and that was making “instruments of correction” for their children. In case you didn’t know it, peach branches—the new green ones, not the old brown ones—are extremely flexible and pliant and make fantastic switches. In fact, they make far better switches than mimosa branches, which tend to be brittle and snap off after a good whack or two on your child’s behind or bare legs. Let me ask you: have you ever been whipped with a switch off a peach tree? If not, then you have no real understanding of pain. Trust me, it hurts and then some. Fact is, being flailed with a peach branch stings like no other sting you will ever experience. Forget a belt. Forget a fly flap. Forget a wet dishrag. A peach switch is the winner no hands down.

So, with that in mind, here’s my point (And you didn’t think I had one). I think today’s children would greatly benefit from a good old-fashioned switching with a pliant peach branch. In fact, I may just start a company—Switches Unlimited—and sell peach branches on E-bay. Who knows? Maybe it’ll start a fad, and parents all across the nation will begin flailing away at their rotten little kids with peach switches; and before we know it, children will once again be children instead of miniature adults who think the world revolves solely around them.”)

Now, by this point, some of you may be wondering where I am going with this post, because I was not given Castor Oil, but Cod Liver Oil. Well, although the former does have its benefits, and we may use it in the future, the latter is even safer (no “squirts”!) and is more immediately effective in that it tastes like a fishery has died in your mouth.

My Master was suitably impressed by the effectiveness of this method by watching my face immediately upon my swallowing my dose. In the end there were two expressions: my face, screwed up in sensory misery and much self-pity, and his in absolute sadistic delight that he couldn’t hide for the world!

What had I done to deserve this punishment?

Ah…. [sigh] I have this habit of dealing with emotional situations by getting all worked up (generally about unimportant or not-even-real side issues) and then crying and getting so upset that it takes way longer for my Master to deal with the situation (which generally goes: Calm Zille down. Try to discuss rationally. Calm Zille down again. Re-attempt to figure out what is A.) the Real Problem and B.) what are Zille’s Issues. Possibly calm Zille down again. Finally get The Point across to her and watch her have an “Oh! Sorry about all of this!” moment. Give Zille hugs because she is upset.) than was even remotely necessary, and is very frustrating for him. Once I get to my irrational place, I honestly don’t even try to meet him halfway, or to fight my downward spiral of emotions and negative thoughts.

I don’t want to be like that. I’m on an anti-depressant which works very well. I meditate (not often enough, of course) so I know I can focus my mind. I have the tools to make this sort of thing happen less frequently, possibly, after a lot of work, almost never. It’s laziness on my part that I don’t try to keep myself from repeating a negative pattern which I know all about (from years of experience of it repeating exactly the same way every time) and could do something about, even just starting with baby steps. (Like, you know, actually listening to him on the first go-round!)

And, realistic expectations aside, what we have agreed to is that, to keep his excessive zeal for “fairness” to keep from getting in the way (so that he never punishes me at all, because he always talks himself out of it, because it could somehow always be “unfair”), I have to accept that sometimes, a punishment may not be what I consider fair. Which I think makes me like any child who is being punished, come right down to it!

The way he is able to do this is by using less severe forms of punishment (you will all hear about The Despised Paddle soon enough, I’m sure), and using something like Cod Liver Oil. It’s a “win-win-win” situation. Firstly, instead of him just ending up feeling frustrated and vexed at me, he makes me submit to him – and this makes us both feel better, because he wants me to submit to his will, and I want him to make me so that I feel loved and cared for. So now the situation ends quite differently, with us both happier about the conclusion (even if I do have to use mouthwash repeatedly for the rest of the night!). And, if upon later reflection, perhaps it wasn’t an entirely-merited punishment, well, who got hurt? Not me – I just got a tablespoon of vitamins and minerals.

When we originally discussed the idea, I told him that I thought it would work best if he made me go to the kitchen with him, and he got out the bottle and poured the spoonful and made me open my mouth, because that would make me feel most like a kid again, most off-balance and powerless. He agreed.

And that’s how it went down. After he’d helped me through my emotions, and I’d come out the other side and gotten my hugs, he informed me that I would now be getting a Cod Liver Oil punishment. That focused my attention, I have to tell you! I think I can safely say that feeling bad about letting things get all emotionally out-of-hand and jumping to all sorts of conclusions has really not caused me to take the effort not to do it again, the next time things came up.

But when my Master said I was being punished, suddenly things got very concentrated. I asked him why, and he explained. Suddenly, things were very calm and clear in my head. (I also calmly and clearly didn’t want any Cod Liver Oil, but that was another matter!) I didn’t argue, just asked why, and accepted the answer.

I didn’t leap up to go take my punishment. (I’m not sure what I looked like in the moment, very still I imagine.) My Master said, gently but firmly, that I asked for things to be like this. It was a real test of the moment; because this is new for both of us, and he needs confirmation and assurance as much as I do. I replied that I understood, but he really couldn’t be expecting me to be eager to take my punishment! He smiled, and the test was passed, and we moved forward…

Forward to the kitchen! There he cracked open the new bottle of Ick Oil, and I watched nervously. I know my parents actually gave me the stuff as a child (not as punishment, but health supplement – my mom was a health nut), but I couldn’t remember the taste – I just knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant….

“Would you like me to warm it?” My Master interrupted my recollections. “What?!” I replied, aghast. He reiterated the offer. I asked him why on earth he’d want to do that (Hoping “Extreme sadism,” wouldn’t be the answer!) and he said, “Well, it might be too cold!”

Ooooh. He thought he was being nice. I repressed a shudder, and explained that I’d really rather have it cold, thank you, because warming it up would only make it fishier and more vile. “Ah hah,” he said, storing the information for the future – this time I couldn’t repress the shudder, and I kicked myself for volunteering information!

He poured the viscous toxic waste into the spoon. Oh no. This was happening. I looked around, hoping perhaps a natural disaster would occur and we’d have to leave. Fire? Earthquake? Anything?

He held the spoon out to me, and I’m proud to say I only backed up a little bit. He reached out and grabbed my nose (had he been watching that damned Tom and Jerry cartoon?!) and I considered the situation, as the spoon hovered in front of my mouth.

This was the first time, and it would be affirming and confirming our new situation, which I really wanted to work. So I ought to open my mouth and just accept things. Yes, now….

The Ick Oil was deposited in my mouth. I swallowed fast. At first, nothing but an oily feel. Okay so far … and then, suddenly it was an oil-spill with thousands of dead sea creatures, all in my mouth and throat.

He hugged me to him, and told me he was proud of me. I just wanted to rinse my mouth, and as soon as I could speak again for the vileness, I begged to be able to do so. He was very kind about that. Although it took a long time for that taste to go away. Also: no matter what, just don’t burp for hours. Just don’t!

I think this punishment will turn out to be very effective. Perhaps maybe I should “petition for the restoration of the rod”!

11 thoughts on “A First Punishment…

  1. Mija

    Wow… that’s quite a first post. Glad you figured out TypePad!
    My first thought reading this was “oh ick! Something worse than soap.” One summer in an attempt to combat my severe allergies, someone at Napier had me taking spoonfuls of hemp oil multiple times a day. Even though it didn’t taste fishy, the texture and way it just lingered in my mouth was terrible (I eventually did find hot lemon water could clean the oil residue out of my mouth — maybe that could help you). Having taken fish oil capsules, it’s possible to imagine what this tastes like. So, ick! ick! ick!
    Next thought was about physical punishment / discipline that isn’t spanking. Such things get used in our house too. They’re somehow more embarrassing, I think partly because there isn’t the physical pain, noise and, well, struggle of the whole spanking / thrashing. I end up in rather small and submissive place.
    In this entry you alluded to the “fairness” issue that you wrote about on your blog. I feel for you because we go through this sometimes too. It’s important to Paul that he’s fair and consistent but that’s not terribly important to me. I always think that what we do, outside of our own house, can’t be judged as fair. I mean, there’s nothing I do that I really “deserve” to be punished by my partner for doing except that within our little family / world we’ve both decided we want this to be reality. And to me, that seems pretty darn perfect. I wouldn’t want to live in a world where laws decided one person got to control their spouses (or children) by thrashing them with canes, however much I need and want that for myself. I’ve all but rolled my eyes (and maybe I’ve rolled them too) when Paul’s brought up the “fairness” issue.
    But I guess even within this little world we’ve created, Paul and your master have to feel like they’re being fair because they’re the ones judging themselves. Or something like that.
    I’d write about how I identify with not being reasonable and being worked toward an Emily Litella “nevermind” moment, but I think this comment is too long already. In any case, what a great first entry.

  2. Angie

    Excellent first entry! I’m definitely in favor of the cod liver oil OVER the castor oil — because that stuff is just BAD all over the place, and I know of someone who used it to try to get labor going and ended up … well, I won’t go there because it’s still hard for me to talk about. (Suffice to say, when I do become a midwife, there’s not a chance in hell I’d suggest castor oil – EVER.)
    But there’s a lot about the cod liver that makes sense — the ritual of it, the having-to-submit of it, and the unpleasantness … plus, like you said, in the end, you just got a dose of vitamins and minerals. With spanking all you get is an endorphin rush. 😉
    I’m glad you’re here, Zille – and I love reading your writing!

  3. sparkle

    Hi Zille,
    I wanted to offer you a very public WELCOME to PB. And say how disgusting having to swallow oil of any kind is, but Cod Oil … ugh.
    Again, welcome,

  4. bridget

    Cod Liver Oil was part of the routine in this house for years. Emulsified and flavored, but nonetheless rather disgusting. I finally convinced Master that caplets were the answer… and fish oil is more complete, anyway in terms of DHL etc. So that’s what we do now.
    I also thought this was a great first post. I definitely relate to the fairness issue and I also find it useful to have punishments on many levels, not only severity. I probably would hate being dosed with codliver oil at least as much as a spanking much of the time… *yuuuuucky*

  5. Iris

    Zille, let me add my welcome to the others from the group: I’m so very glad you’ve joined us! And if this first post is a taste of what we can expect (pun intended, grin), I think we’re in for a treat.
    As for the issue of ANY kind of oil being administered as punishment, I can only hope that M doesn’t see this post. He doesn’t need any suggestions for alternative punishments, especially not ones that could be billed as “for your health” instead of just “for your own good.”

  6. Zille Defeu

    Thank you, everyone! Your warm welcome has made me feel like I’m all snuggled up in a big snucky blanket (the big snucky blankie of your approval, is what guess this metaphor is trying to be … possibly I’m pushing that one a bit too far….)
    Mija — I’d love to hear more from you about any/everything you brought up (plus what you mentioned on the phone today!)
    Angie — You know, I think maybe “just the endorphin rush” would be *fine*! 😉
    Sparkle — A very public and sincere Thank You, to you!
    Bridget — We have so many things in common, I’m not surprised we also have the fairness issue in common, too. I’ll call to chat — during nights or weekends! 😉
    Iris — I hope that the taste of what you can expect from me is the direct opposite of Cod Liver Oil! Something like really good chocolate, or your favourite fruit, perfectly ripe. Yes, those are what I’d like my posts to taste like! [dorky grin]
    I guess other people had better post some other stuff, quick, so my post gets buried before it can influence M!
    Again, to all of you — thank you for making me feel so “at home” here!

  7. HAL

    I had imagined that soap was the worst thing I could imagine as a kind of ‘oral’ punishment. Now I can actually taste fish after your description. Yuck!
    Really like your writing. Thanks for sharing.
    Nick (Home at last)

  8. Thinkofallison

    Zille – My first thought was that since one of the things I need to deal with is forgetting to take my fish oil, which I now take in liquid form because it’s easier to get enough that way, my punishment for forgetting would have to be… taking my fish oil? Hmm. Second thought: that stuff magically manages to taste lukewarm even when it’s been in the fridge. I have no idea how.
    I’m sure codliver lil is much worse than the generic fish oil I take, but I bet it shares a lot in common with it. I do know the liquid glucosamine condroitin combo I take erases the taste / oily reside of the fish oil really effectively, but since it tastes pretty gross all by itself, that doesn’t help much. The other day I decided to just take both in a measuring cup (I take a tsp of one and a tbsp of the other). It was pretty gross but better than fish oil alone.
    I’ve posted replies here as a lurker before under various names, but finally just got an extra gmail account for kink related stuff and have settled into my fake name account pretty firmly. So hi!
    Lately I’ve been thinking that Able and Chris and Matt and whoever else should get together and create a correspondence course for guys like my boyfriend, who’s completely new to this stuff and has no idea WTF. Then I realized I’m a complete masochist for coming up with the idea. Ack.

  9. Tanya

    LOL! I take cod liver oil in tablets all of the time — and not as punishment but as regular dietary supplements! It has lots of health benefits. ;P

  10. Yitzie

    Dear Zille,
    Thank you for sharing your experience with cod liver oil as a form of discipline. I just discovered the blog and I noticed I’m about 3 years late on my reply but I guess better late than never.
    I found your story fascinating and have had very limited contact with other subs who enjoy fowl tasting things as a form of submission. I once chatted with a submissive woman in England who related to me that her mother used to give her cod liver oil as a form of discipline and that was the first I’d heard of it. At that time I did not really dwell on it but the way you describe it is very nice. Of course I have heard of the more common hot saucing technique.
    Growing up, many of my childhood experiences would have a big impact on shaping my submissive desires but I cannot say I have ever had cod liver oil or been given castor oil or hot sauce as a child.
    I did get my mouth washed out with soap by my mother on 2 or 3 occasions that I can recall and threatened with it on a handful of occasions and I must say that it was the most dreadful form of discipline I received, more so than getting the belt. I recall one of those mouth soapings, I vomited into the sink. I never got a mouth soaping in conjunction with a spanking but I do have a recollection of having to stand in the corner afterwards with the disgusting taste in my mouth. It has only been in the last few years that mouth soaping has started to appeal to me as a form of discipline but one thing that appeals to me is that it is something I still really dislike therefore my submission to it is more genuine and intense. I also find it very embarrassing to have a bar of soap in my mouth which is a plus for me as well.
    In any case, apart from the soap I have enjoyed the idea of unpleasant tasting things for a very long time and the origin is not discipline related but also something good for you and here is an event from my childhood that made a major impression on me in that respect. Some of my memory is very vague while other aspects are clear as if they were yesterday.
    As a child, I really, and I mean really hated taking medicine when I was ill. Sure most children did not like medicine but I think I was an especially difficult child about it. I was typically given chewable baby aspirin or liquid Tylenol, both of which I found horrendous as a kid. I recall my mother spending a considerable amount of time with me, trying to get me to eat or drink my medicine. She was typically very patient and gentle about it, allowing me to sip / eat very small amounts at a time and wash it down with soda which was normally only a Saturday treat in our home.While she was generally very patient and gentle, sometimes taking perhaps up to a half hour to give me all of my medicine, at times she could suddenly switch to very assertive and forceful about it, as will be illustrated on the event I’m about to relate.
    It was rather different. I recall being in my parents bedroom and sitting on the floor a little inside of the doorway and near the edge of their bed on my mothers side. This certainly was not a common place for me to be when I was ill. Typically I was in my own bedroom and if in my parents bedroom, not on the floor. I cannot recall the circumstances that led to me being were I was but I recall it with crystal clarity. I do not recall my age but if I had to guess I’d venture to say 6 or 7 years old. I recall that mother had several baby aspirins spread out on the bed and was laboring in her typical patient and gentle manner to get me to eat them. I have a vague recollection that the number of baby aspirins I was supposed to consume was tied in with my age and on this occasion there was 1 more than I was used to so perhaps I had recently had a birthday.
    I recall on this occasion I was particularly sensitive to the bad taste of the aspirins which I think was often enhanced by the illness that can even make food taste bad. I recall that either I was giving mother a more difficult time than typical or she was a little less patient than usual or a combination of both but I recall her demeanor changing very rapidly. In a very forceful tone, with her face close to mine she implored ” eat them all up now or I’ll have to shove them up your posterior ” she then asked ” which would you prefer, to eat them or have them put in your tushy? “. I felt my face turn hot as I cringed over the prospect of what she was suggesting and the way she presented it.
    While I hated taking medicine it was by far the lesser of the 2 evils and I needed no more motivation and I bashfully mumbled an election to eat it before I promptly ate all my aspirins up without further fuss.
    I sat for a few moments, proud of myself but then I felt an unpleasant churning in my stomach. I suddenly felt nauseated and I had no doubt it was connected to my swift consumption of those aspirins. Ideally I should have headed for the bathroom but I decided I would stay put and fight the growing urge to vomit as I realized what would happen if I could not hold the aspirin down. The thought of what would happen made me fight the good fight rather than do the proper thing and head for the toilet. In the end, after a bitter struggle, I was overcome with the urge to vomit and passed the point of no return. Leaning over, I vomited all over my parents bedroom floor. It was very obvious that Mother was less than pleased with me and I had a sinking feeling growing in me. After wiping my mouth out with a wet wash cloth, mother called out to my father and asked him to go to the drug store and get aspirin suppositories. ( I am not certain why he had to make a trip to the drugstore as I know I had received them on a handful of occasions, perhaps we were out ). The drug store was about 10 minutes from home and I can still clearly recall the wait.
    I was still sitting on the floor, feeling sorry for myself and feeling a deep sense of dread as I awaited my fate, combined with the lingering sour taste in my mouth. In the meantime, mother cleaned up the mess and watching her, she did not seem happy about the situation at all. She had those no need to say anything movements and looks that told me she was ticked.
    While I hated suppositories far more than anything oral, I obviously had far less control accepting them. Despite the less control over accepting them, I sensed that this time was going to be more like the ” shove ” she had threatened me with rather than a gentle slow administering.
    My Fathers trip to the drug store took excruciatingly long and I recall mother finished cleaning up my vomit and I began to plead with her. I recall her snapping at me and telling me that it wasn’t a punishment but if I could not take my medicine like a big boy then she had no choice but to put it into my tushy like a baby.
    It is funny how normal sounds under certain conditions of duress can become so enhanced but I can clearly recall hearing my fathers car pulling into the driveway followed a minute later by the front door opening.
    I heard him walking up the steps and then the hallway, his footsteps growing louder with each step until he stepped into the doorway. He had a small brown paper bag in his hand from which he reached in and retrieved a small rectangular box which he handed to my mother, she thanked him and he turned and walked away.
    Mother set the box down on the bed, not far from where the baby aspirins had been. My blood pressure at that moment must have been through the roof. Her commandment was firm and to the point ” bend over the bed “. I felt like I was submitting myself to a whipping as I did as instructed, my ass sticking out. A moment later the backside of my pajama pants came down and then I watched as mother opened the little box. She withdrew a foil strip of suppositories and tore one off. I then watched as she peeled the foil and held the exposed suppository upright in her hand. A moment later her hand disappeared behind me and I let out a grunt as the suppository was ” shoved ” into me. She instructed me to inform her when it was all melted.
    Several long minutes ticked by as I lay bent over the bed feeling the suppository inside of me and still tasting the lingering sour taste in my mouth from when I had vomited. Mother was sitting there monitoring me with a demeanor like ” payback is a bitch “. My joy in informing her that the suppository had finally melted was short lived when she tore off and peeled a second one which she promptly ” shoved ” into me.
    Once the second suppository was melted, I was allowed to pull my pajamas back up. After that point I totally have no recollection of what transpired but the memory of the event is forever etched into my mind.
    As a result it has been one of my primary fantasies to be forced to drink awful tasting medicines with the threat of a suppository and being told that if I can’t take my medicine like a big boy……
    As an adult, I no longer find much of a repulsion to liquid Tylenol or baby aspirin so they do not really suffice as a tool to achieve my submissive desires. I have tried sipping castor oil as my ” medicine ” but I do not want to take enough that it will cause the stomach problems, I am also leery of consuming much medicine without a medical need so the cod liver oil sounds like it may potentially be a healthy ” medicine ” for me to have to take. I don’t suppose they make cod liver oil suppositories? lol
    Hope no body is grossed out by my post and thank you for your time. Happy Holidays to all.


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