This morning, I knew what I had known this week. Today was the day. I had been lazy, had procrastinated too much and enough was enough. I had to be punished.
I had put off punishments, so I knew this one had to sink in. Really get the point across. So, as I looked at my implements, I picked the hardest and most serious. The wooden hairbrush. The new belt, specifically for spankings. The plastic hairbrush. The slipper. I laid them across the bed, and slowly took my clothes off, knowing the punishment needed to fit the crimes. I walked to the mirror, and told myself exactly why I was being punished. You just don't have the drive anymore. You're constantly late to work. You're not keeping up around the house. So, you will be spanked. Then you will spend 1 hour in the corner in a wooden chair. You will then write 200 lines, and document your punishment online. And you will get bedtime spankings for two weeks. I walked back in to the bed, and picked up the plastic hairbrush. Laying on my side, I quickly started applying the brush to the first cheek, then the second. The first 200 didn't sink in, which I didn't think they would. So, I decided to up the ante and jump to the mother of all implements, the wooden brush. At 150, I started to feel the pain, but I continued, to 300. Knowing this was a serious spanking, I dropped back a step and let the slipper have a go at my warming bottom. After 200, I took a break. I reminded myself why this burning bottom was a necessity, and took out the ruler to spank my inner thighs. I decided it was time to finish the spanking, and reached for the belt. I specifically waited it for last, knowing it would reach my sit spots well. Bending over, I let the belt slam into my bottom 100 times, cheek by cheek, I felt the humiliation of having to give myself such a punishment. I had acted like a child, and was having to punish myself like a child. After the spanking was finished, I laid down, curled up, before going and looking at my already bruising bottom. I gave myself a few more smacks with my bathbrush to spots I had missed, pulled the chair into the corner, and sat there bare bottomed for the hour. Sitting down was the first time I cried. I don't know if it was a little of the pain (it definitely hurt), some finally released emotions, or the humiliation of the entirety of the spanking, but some tears finally came. After the hour was over, I obediently sat at my desk and wrote out my lines-all 200. Something about the emotional release of everything makes you remember why you put yourself through this in the first place- to better yourself. As I sit here tonight writing this, knowing that I'll be doing a small spanking in a little bit for my bedtime spanking, I'm reminded I can be the person I need to be and that I want to be. I have to put some work in it, shed some tears, but it's worth it. And if I need a little discipline now and then, then I'll provide it.