David's punished me twice before. He spanks me on a regular basis, of course, but that's different. When we're playing he uses his hand, or his leather belt, both of which don't hurt all that much. In fact, a nice long hand spanking is more pleasurable than it is painful. When it's a punishment, however, he uses his crop. It's a hateful thing - thin and flexible and whippy. It hurts like fire - I'd rather take a hundred strokes from David's belt than ten from the crop.
The previous two punishments were for pretty minor infractions. The first time it was because I borrowed his credit card to buy a few clothes, and ended up spending more than he'd agreed to. Like an idiot I didn't tell him, hoping that he perhaps wouldn't notice. But he did, and he gave me twenty strokes with the crop for it, which I took while lying flat on the bed with my hands behind my head. When I stood up afterwards the pillow was wet with tears and my backside hurt like I'd just been branded - but the guilty weight I'd been carrying around for the last week was gone, and I was glad of it.
The second the time it was because I drove home after a work party when I'd had a few drinks. Maybe I was over the limit, maybe not, but either way it was a stupid, stupid decision. I could easily have got a taxi, or got a lift home with a friend. For that David's punishment was thirty strokes, which he gave me while I stood in the middle of the floor, bent over and gripping my ankles.
Both times we'd talked it out and agreed that a punishment was the best way forward. And both times I'd felt so much better afterwards - lighter, happier, absolved of my sins. David said he felt happier too, knowing that I wouldn't behave in those ways again, knowing that I'd learned my lesson the hard way.
This time I knew that I'd be learning the very hard way. Thirty strokes would be getting off lightly - I'd count myself fortunate, I decided, if he gave me anything less than fifty. But that was fine - I wanted to be punished, I wanted to suffer for what I'd done. I'd never needed the pain or the humiliation of a long, hard spanking more than I did then. That was the only way I could be sure that David would forgive me. More than anything that was the only way I could really and truly forgive myself.
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