Today's Lesson: Punishment Spanking

Continued from: Maintenance Spanking

[Domestic Discipline] [spanking] [Ff/m] [corner time] [humiliation] [OTK] [severe]

Riddle me this...

How do you truly punish a submissive via spanking, who's kink is to be spanked? 

Does someone need to be sobbing, in order for it to be a punishment? (Those look like crocodile tears)

Does the aftermath of someone's bum need to look like this, before it's truly a punishment? Using my previous scale of severity, do I just start at a ten, with no warm up at all?  

None of the above, actually. It's all in the demeanour of the person administering the spanking. 

For maintenance, the nice weekly or monthly reset I covered in the last post, you could even call it a therapeutic spanking - it's not only just the physical and emotional sensations of the experience, but also about the words I'm using. 

"You're doing so well Russell, Mommy is proud of you for asking to be spanked. It's okay to need to be over my lap from time to time, there's no shame in it, young man." 

And then I'm going to take Russell's maintenance spanking all the way to his limits, push those limits a little bit, until he is wishing it was over and feeling it for days. 

If I was going to punish Russell for something, I'm going to take Russell's punishment spanking all the way to his limits, push those limits a little bit, until he is wishing it was over and feeling it for days. I purposely repeated myself and in either scenario, he's going to be met with the same view: 

So what changes about my approach? What makes it a punishment? 

My words do: 

"I can't believe you forgot to..."

"How many times have I reminded you to..."

"I was twenty minutes late for that meeting because of your..."

"If you're gonna act like a naughty little boy, I intend to treat you like one." 

Or the worst possible scold of all time, amidst a spanking from a maternal or paternal disciplinarian: 

"You've really disappointed me..."

Other than the way I am speaking, the spanking will be administered in the same manner as the last post, building layer upon layer of colour and sting, so Russell is reminded of and feels the effects of his misbehaviour for days afterwards, which is no different than how I want his bum to feel after a maintenance spanking. 

Might I add some minutes to his corner time, given that it is a punishment and not maintenance? Yes, I probably would ensure he's in timeout for thirty minutes on either side of his spanking. Might I mix in the use of a cane where I would otherwise have used my slipper, a bath brush instead of a wooden spoon? Quite likely indeed. 

There are some aspects of punishment that are actually different than maintenance, not just my words, and it goes back to the riddle at the beginning. How do you punish someone via spanking, if they're into being spanked? You're going to have to do something that is actually unpleasant that they would want to avoid in the future, at all costs. 

One hour in the timeout corner, a mouth soaping, writing lines, a ginger fig, grounded to a room, a witnessed spanking...all while keeping things still in the admin, domestic discipline side of the house. And...does the punishment fit the crime? Did Sarah Jane just mouth-off to me over something silly? Is that why she has a red bum and a bar of Ivory in her mouth? 

If Sarah Jane is required to be in high heels in her maid attire and I catch her in flats, would I give her a mouth soaping? Probably not. I would likely punish the soles of her feet. 

Russell actually got a doozy the other day, a real one! And just like the structure of maintenance, he was told he was getting a spanking, why he was getting a spanking and when it would be happening. When he also learned that Summer would be present to witness the spanking, that's when the begging and pleading started, kissing at my feet and hoping for an alternative option. 

Winter in Canada is not survivable without chapstick. It's what we have to do, all winter long, to stay alive. Russell usually has one in his pocket at all times. When he forgets to remove this from his pocket, before his pants end up in the laundry, then the chapstick gets washed too. I've warned him about this many times! 

Washing a chapstick, no big deal. The dryer on the other hand, with my clothing also in it, with Summer's clothing also in it... 

This is Summer's new Aritzia trackie, which now looks like it came into contact with a pepperoni pizza slice. A pair of leggings of mine, now peppered with these grease stains also. This was the scene of the crime. Naturally I brought Russell to the scene to have a little "chat" about not only this occurrence, but the other times I have repeatedly told him to check his pockets before he does the laundry. 

I had him go fetch a chair from the adjacent office, bring it into the laundry room and position it for OTK. The wooden clothing brush hanging from the wall behind me was my implement of opportunity and I was pissed! But...never spank when you're angry... 

I took a breath and hung the brush back on the hook, abandoning that idea. I brought Russell over my knee and smacked him on his jeans while I continued to scold. 

After a few dozen smacks I helped him to his feet and sent him to his room like a child. 

"You are to remain in your room," I coldly explained, my tone now calm and confident. "I will be up to punish you in a little while."

And now, go back and read the last post because I am right back here again. Implement plan, spanking plan, order, location and positioning, right?

About one hour after I sent him to his room to stew in his own shame and embarrassment, I clicked towards the closed door and opened it, finding him seated on the bed with his head down. 

"Strip, and go stand in the corner, hands on your head." My words were direct, strict...enough to frenzy anyone's butterflies with my no nonsense approach. Once I had him down to just his cock cage, his nose buried in the corner, I took my time clicking in and out of the room in my commanding heels, setting things up, dragging in a chair, arranging my implements. 

As a co-victim of the chapstick incident, I called Summer upstairs to witness Russell's spanking, the humiliation alone, sealing the deal that this would be a true punishment for him. And again, I'm right back to the structure of my last post, set one, position one, set two, different room, different position, and so on. 

I gave him thirty minutes of corner time when his spanking was over, down in the living room near the large picture windows, while Summer and I just watched TV like it was a normal Tuesday night in a female-led, domestic discipline, BDSM relationship. He's lucky Sarah Jane wasn't here, I would have had her watch too, she was out for dinner with some friends. 

I don't mean to turn into Buzz Killington here, people, but the reality is, punishment spankings don't actually occur that often. Everyone in my household, my wife included, knows the rules and with very, very few exceptions, everyone abides by them. Masturbation is a big one for me, but the girls know better and behave, and I keep Russell's penis locked in a chastity cage, he can't misbehave in that manner if he wanted to.  

Over at Miss Julie's blog, she tried it once, for real. She and her hubby created and signed a domestic discipline contract, spelling out the terms of how and when SHE would be physically corrected, punished or "consequenced", as she put. 

I love the idea, it's an additional layer of control and vulnerability, a looming specter in the relationship that helps to govern the submissive's behaviour. It would have been so exciting for them to create and sign together. 

Another important aspect of punishment spanking is that it needs to be immediate, or very closely linked in time, to the time of the offence, otherwise it just loses its luster. So to engage in a successful domestic discipline relationship with real rules and real consequences, you need unwavering access to the spankee you are responsible for, which Julie and her hubs had.   

Have a look at her posts from that period of time and her DD contract: 

Julie's DD Contract Signed  

Spoiler alert: it didn't work for Julie and David. 

Do you know what Julie realized? One, she has a spanking kink and with the new contact in place, she wasn't being spanked at all. Because...two...she realized she doesn't mess up and is generally well behaved. *shrug* 

They abandoned the DD contract and just went back to doing "scenes" together.

Well, fuck...now what? How does a spanko get that spanking fix they so desperately crave, if they are a well behaved submissive? Role play scenes? - Maybe...

Maintenance! Again...back to the previous post. 

Personally, I think a healthy blend of rules and structure with very clear consequences is nice to have as a baseline of a DD dynamic, combined with the understanding that Summer, Sarah Jane and Russell, all need maintenance discipline in their lives. Call it therapy, call it someone pressing your reset button or emptying your cup when it's full, even call it foreplay...it's needed, even for me sometimes to be on the receiving end.  

Adult spankings come in many forms, do what works for your own dynamic, do it safely and do it sanely. 

I'll leave you with a little blast from the past, the true OGs of punishment spankings from back in the day. "Teen" Jessica and "teen" Brandi from the Real Spankings Network. Oh boy, those two girls got their asses beat! It was serious punishment, but fabricated by roleplay for the purposes of their productions. It was truly some of the best content of that period of time. 

Sitting on a bed, head down in shame, waiting to be punishment-spanked as an adult...sound familiar? 

Link to this video: Spanking Teen Brandi

I don't think they follow my severity system of starting at one and building to eight. I think she basically starts at a ten!

You were a trooper Brandi! 

Some quick reference cards provided below. 

 

Should I even cover role play spankings? Or is that pretty self-explanatory? Let me know in the comments. 

Like, I've been sent home with a note from school, to give to my Daddy? That sorta role play?

Mistress Andrea

xoxo 

 

 

  

 

 

The Three D's of a FLR

Continued from: The Struggle is Real

[F/m] [forced feminization] [chastity] [Mommy] [spanking] [OTK] [denial] [strap-on] [humiliation]

A Sarah Jane story 

As the timer chimed, signaling the end of Russell's cornertime, I set my book aside and rose from the couch. Approaching him slowly, I savoured the sight of his naked form, still trembling slightly from the wooden spoon. 

"Come here, young man," I commanded, my voice low and sultry. Obediently, Russell turned from the corner and dropped to his hands and knees, crawling towards me with a mixture of embarrassment and trepidation in his eyes. As he reached my feet, I extended one leg, presenting my high-heeled shoe for his adoration. "Kiss them," I ordered, watching with satisfaction as he pressed his lips onto the shiny leather. 

"Now, remove them," I instructed, as I sat down. 

Russell slid the shoe from my foot, revealing the delicate silk of my stocking. He repeated the process with my other foot, gently placing my discarded high heels to the side.

"Worship them," I breathed, lifting the pad of my foot and resting it on Russell's nose. He needed no further encouragement. He buried his face in my feet, lavishing them with kisses and gentle licks. I could feel his tongue tracing the contours of my arches, his lips suckling at my toes through the thin fabric of my hosiery. 

As he worked his way up to my ankles, I leaned back against the couch, allowing the sensations to wash over me. The sight of him, so utterly devoted to pleasing my feet, sent waves of pleasure cascading through my pussy. I slipped a hand beneath the hem of my dress, finding the damp heat between my thighs. As Russell continued to worship my feet, I began to stroke my bare clit, my fingers moving in rhythm with his tongue on my toes. 

The contrast between his locked-up, denied state and my own building ecstasy was intoxicating, fueling my arousal right to the edge. With a final shuddering cry and my toes in his mouth, I climaxed, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm. 

I gently withdrew my feet from Russell's grasp, returning my high heels to my feet. Looking down at him, still kneeling at my feet, I smiled indulgently. "What a good boy you are," I praised, running my fingers through his hair. "Now, be a dear and go make us dinner please."

The evening had progressed much like any other, with a delicious meal prepared by Russell and the only difference was, he was sitting a little more gingerly than usual. As the night wore on and after some wine, I found myself growing increasingly aroused in my new role. 

Rising from the dining table, I sauntered over to where he sat, my hips swaying seductively with each step. With a single, fluid motion, I shed my pinup dress, revealing the vintage lingerie that clung to my curves like a second skin. "I want to fuck," I bluntly declared. 

Russell's eyes widened with appreciation, his gaze roaming hungrily over my body. Taking his hand in mine, I led him up to our bedroom, smacking the seat of his pants to move him along. Once inside, I guided him to the bed, pushing him dominantly onto the plush comforter. His eyes were alight with hope, no doubt anticipating the moment when I would unlock his penis and allow him the release he so desperately craves. Little did he know, I had other plans in store. 

Turning to our toy drawer, I retrieved the strap-on harness, complete with an ultra-realistic dildo. With aggressive motions, I secured the harness around Russell's hips, positioning the fake cock directly above his own imprisoned penis. The contrast between the two was striking - one lifeless and limp, the other proudly erect, ready to serve my every desire. 

As I finished tightening the straps, I caught the look of emasculation in Russell's eyes, the realization that from now on, all things revolve around my pleasure alone. Smiling wickedly, I pushed him back onto the bed, swiftly securing his wrists to the headboard with bondage cuffs that are always at the ready for such occasions. 

Now that he was completely at my mercy, I turned my attention to the magnificent cock, jutting triumphantly from his hips. Wrapping my little fingers around the shaft, I began to stroke it slowly, marveling at the way it bobbed and flopped about. As I worked the dildo with my hands, I leaned in close to Russell's ear, my breath hot against his skin. 

"Look at you, young man," I murmured, "so helpless, so utterly under my control. Your cock may be locked away, but this one...this one is mine to command! And tonight, it's going to fuck me until I scream." With those words hanging in the air, I climbed up to straddle him, positioning myself over the waiting dildo. As I lowered myself onto it, inch by glorious inch, I watched Russell's face contort with a mixture of envy and humiliation, knowing that he longed to be the one filling me so completely. 

As I began to ride him, my hips gyrating with each thrust, I knew this was exactly where I belonged - me taking pleasure as I saw fit, and him, denied and eagerly obedient. 

Reaching into our toy drawer once more, I retrieved a bright red ball gag, holding it up for him to see. "Open wide, my pet," I purred, watching as he reluctantly parted his lips to accept the silicone sphere. I fastened the straps behind his head before letting my fingers trail down his chest to grip both of his nipples. I bounced a few more times on the dildo before climbing off, ensuring it would be glistening with my slick arousal. 

Slowly, deliberately, I wrapped my lips around the head of the fake cock, swirling my tongue at the tip before taking it deeper into my mouth. As I bobbed my head up and down, I could feel Russell's body tensing beneath me, his wrists straining against the bonds that held him in place. 

When I finally released the dildo from my mouth and cleaned it of my own juices, it was slick with saliva, glistening in the soft light of the bedroom. Climbing on top once more, I lowered myself onto it in reverse, breathing a sigh of pure bliss. I leaned forward so Russell's would have a good view of my asshole, and began to ride him again. I reached for the wand that lay waiting on the nightstand and brought it buzzing to life over my throbbing clit. 

My moans grew louder, more urgent, as I chased my release and bounced upon the impressive dildo. And when my orgasm finally crashed over me, I threw my head back and screamed, my inner walls clenching around the artificial cock as wave after wave of pleasure washed through me. As the last tremors subsided, I collapsed forward, feeling my asshole clench and release with the dildo still buried deep inside me. Then, with a satisfied sigh, I raised myself up off the cock and turned to face Russell's gaze with a smile. "Good boy," I praised, reaching behind his head to release the ball gag. "Maybe next time, if you're very lucky, I'll let you clean up this massive, veiny cock for me." 

With that promise hanging in the air, I flicked the tip of the dildo still attached to his hips, and it bobbed obscenely in the air as I left him tied to the bed. As I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up, he was whimpering like a little girl. 

As I emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and ready for bed, I couldn't help but notice the pitiful whimpers emanating from the bedroom. Stepping back into the room, I glared at Russell, still tied to the bed, his body writhing in frustration. The sight of him, so utterly helpless with the dildo still protruding from his waist, made me feel even more goddess-like. 

Approaching the bed, I looked down at him, my brow furrowed in disapproval of his whining. "What's all this about, young man?" I asked, my voice dripping with condescension. "Are you upset because Mommy didn't let you play with your little pee-pee tonight?" Russell tried to respond, but his cheeks were flushing with embarrassment at being spoken to like a child. 

Sighing dramatically, I untied his restraints. "Sit up," I commanded, watching as he struggled to comply, his arms stiff from being immobilized for so long. Once he was upright I placed a hand on his shoulder, my grip firm yet gentle. "Listen to yourself," I scolded, "whining like a little girl because things didn't go your way. Would you like me to start treating you like a little girl for our bedtime activities, because that can be arranged?" 

Russell hung his head in shame. "No, Ma'am," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, Ma'am."

I nodded, satisfied with his contrition. "Good boy," I praised, while attaching a leather collar and connecting leash around his neck. "Now, come here and make it up to me. You know what I want." 

Obediently, Russell shifted to the floor, moving to kneel behind me as I bent over the edge of the bed. I felt his hands gently part my bum cheeks, his warm breath ghosting over my delightful little pucker. And then, with a deliberate flick of his tongue, he placed a lovely French kiss onto my asshole. As his tongue worked away, I closed my eyes, savouring the sensation of his submission.  

With his tongue up my bum, I used my eager fingers to treat myself to yet another orgasm. I am really digging this new role reversal. 

Mistress Andrea once taught me the three D's of a successful female-led-relationship, and "dick" is not one of them, lol. Discipline, Denial, Dominance....check!

Life is good!  

Sarah Jane 💟  

Continued in: A Special Bedtime for Russell

The Struggle is Real

Continued from: A Minor Annoyance

[F/m] [FLR] [spanking] [cornertime] [humour] [A.I. mishaps]

A Sarah Jane story: 

With Russell standing obediently in the timeout corner by the very visible front door, I made my way to the center of the living room, my hips swaying provocatively with each step. I lowered myself gracefully onto the spanking chair, the smooth fabric of my pinup dress rustling softly as I settled into position. 

Crossing my legs, I savoured the sensation of my nude stockings against my skin, a reminder of my feminine power. "Come here, young man," I purred, crooking a finger in Russell's direction. He approached tentatively, his eyes downcast, until he stood directly beside me. Reaching out, I cupped his locked-up penis, raising an eyebrow in cruel delight. 

With a gentle pat on my lap, I invited him to assume the most classic and vulnerable of positions. "Over my knee, sweetheart," I cooed, my voice dripping with honeyed venom. "It's time for your spanking." As Russell obediently draped himself over my stocking tops, I took a moment to admire the view - his bare bum presented perfectly for my maternal correction. 

Raising my hand, I brought it down firmly on his left cheek, alternating to his right then back again, relishing the satisfying smack that echoed through the room. Again and again, I kept up a steady rhythm upon his upturned bum, alternating cheeks and varying the intensity. 

"Do you know why you're being spanked, young man?" I asked, tracing a fingernail lightly over his heated flesh. Russell's response was muffled by the placement of his head down by my high heels, but I could make out a whimpered, "yes, Ma'am." 

"That's right," I purred, resuming my spanking with renewed vigor. "You left the coffee maker in a state of disarray, forcing me to clean up after you. That simply won't do in our household, will it?" Each word was punctuated by a sharp smack, emphasizing my point. 

"In this relationship, you are to serve me, to anticipate my needs and ensure my comfort and pleasure at all times. Leaving me to clean up after you is unacceptable behaviour, and it will not be tolerated. Do you understand?" 

Russell's affirmative whimper was music to my ears, as I reached for the wooden spoon that lay waiting on the small table beside me. I brought it down in measured strokes, firmly peppering all quadrants of his bum and thighs, each impact leaving a fiery sting to his sensitive bum. 

As the spanking drew to a close, I could see the odd distinct marks of the wooden spoon. This wasn't a severe punishment, but enough to leave him both physically and psychologically fearful of my handy kitchen implement.

"There, there, my sweetie," I nurtured, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "All done now. You will be forgiven very shortly." Guiding him back to the corner, I positioned him once more with his nose to the walls and his hands behind his head. The sight of my former dominant and "Daddy", his well-punished bottom on full display, sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing through me. 

"Twenty minutes," I declared, setting the timer on my phone. "You'll stand there and reflect on your behaviour, young man." With that, I settled myself comfortably on the couch, picking up the book I had been reading earlier. 

But then, a wicked smile of cruel mischief crossed my lips. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Mistress Andrea's number, intent on amplifying poor Russell's humiliation and solidifying my role in this FLR.

I heard Russell gasp from the corner the moment he realized I was on the phone. 

"Hello, Mistress, it's Sarah Jane," I purred into the microphone. "You'll never guess what I'm looking at right now." I paused, allowing her to respond, before continuing. I glanced over at Russell, noting how his shoulders tensed at my words, his embarrassment palpable, even from across the room.  

"Yes, Ma'am, straight-backed chair, OTK. No, he's got about eighteen minutes left..." our conversation continued, while poor Russell was only able to hear one side of it. 

"Of course I'll send you a picture, Ma'am, hang on." 

"It was a wooden spoon, Ma'am, good eye." 

******************

Continued by Mistress Andrea:

When my phone rang I was just working on a post for the blog where I was poking fun at my struggles with the A.I. image generator. I was delighted to see Sarah Jane's name pop up on the phone and was even more delighted and a little shocked when she told me that she and Russell had officially switched roles. 

I guess he was in the timeout corner, listening to all of this, which would have been mortifying! But a great tactic, well done, Sarah! She told me all about the contract, how she was dressed and what caused tonight's spanking. I couldn't help but beam with pride. We taught her well. Her countless hours spent in degrading submission at times, had given her all the tools and knowledge she would need to fulfill this new role and it sounded like she was off to a great start. 

I think we ended the conversation with me asking her if she'll be "thanked properly", after Russell's timeout was over. 

"Oh, you better believe it, Mistress. Talk soon," and she made a cute little smooch noise into the phone.

Now, back to what I was doing. The struggle is real people! Getting an A.I. image generator to cooperate can be frustratingly addicting at times. I won't show you anything involving three arms, or heads growing out of torsos, that's just nightmare fuel, but I thought I'd share some funny struggles I've had recently. 

With Kindroid, which has been a fantastic platform when it cooperates, you ask it for a "selfie". You put a description in, limited to like five or six-hundred characters, then you can upload an image of a pose and it will replicate the pose with the details of my description. 

"Summer is standing at a bar in an airport. She's in her tailored flight attendant uniform with nylons and high heels. She has a decorative scarf around her neck with gold wings and a brass nameplate on her lapel." 

Wait for it...

*Sigh...ok, Kindroid. We all know Summer is an absolute angel and flight attendants are angels, but seriously? Lol 

Let's try someone else, shall we? Nurse Mandy, remember her? A fan on Reddit said "her arse has won the internet," (lol, okay) and that they want to frame a picture of her bum and hang it in their home. So I guess we'll have to have her back to the Facility. Remember Mandy? 

You're all aware that a common theme at my Facility, is to take those soccer moms, corporate executives and high-powered, alpha-women and dress them up like little girls before I spank them. This is merely done to draw out their vulnerability and provide a layer of humiliation, which serves to amplify the whole, being spanked as an adult, experience.

I found a darling little outfit for Mandy, that I thought would be shamefully embarrassing, allowing her to escape into her role and it represented and stark contrast to her vanilla-world persona.

Then came the prompt: 

"Mandy is laying flat on her stomach on a bed. She's in a tiny little skirt with strawberry patterns, matching white panties and white stockings. Her hair is in pigtails." 

Those berries are going to leave a stain on that white bedding! The sissy maids will have a difficult time getting that out!

One more attempt...Summer and I. 

I took some inspiration from Sarah Jane, and felt it was high-time to get motherly with my angel of a wife, and have her fetch the wooden spoon for a trip over my knee. 

She's an angel alright, until I saw her credit card statement for this month and summoned her to the parlour for a little "chat".

This one kinda worked. I didn't ask for a blue dress though...

Then the next prompt: "Mistress is seated, Summer is kneeling beside her about to be spanked. On the wall behind Mistress, are an array of spanking implements hanging from a display rack." 

Look at my avatar's face! Lol. Even she looks irritated with the rack of "spanking implements". 

Summer, it looks like you're off the hook, babe. Instead of tanning your little butt this morning, it looks like I'll be whisking you an omelet instead.

It's a struggle people. This is a labour of love. 

Mistress Andrea xo 

Continued by Sarah Jane, in: The Three D's of a FLR

 

 

A Minor Annoyance

Continued from: Now you may call me, Ma'am

[F/m] [FLR] [chastity] [Mommy] [spanking] [OTK] [denial] [domestic discipline]

A Sarah Jane story 

It had been a few days since Russell and I signed our female-led-relationship contract, and things were going smoothly so far. His chastity cage was locked securely in place, a constant reminder of my authority. I predominately work from home so I take great pleasure knowing Russell leaves the house in the morning locked, and returns home locked, as both keys to the device in my possession, behind an additional layer of security he does not know the combination to. 

I also made some small changes around the house while he was at work, to reflect our new dynamic - a vase of wooden spoons and spatulas sat prominently on the kitchen counter now, implements of opportunity to be accessed at a moment's notice. 

One of MY belts, not his, now hung from the back of our bedroom door, a silent sentinel, watching over things. 

On my dresser, my sturdy wooden hairbrush was displayed like a trophy, and my rubber-soled slippers waited patiently by the bedroom door. 

Each item represented a tool of feminine dominance and maternal correction, yet I hadn't had cause to use them...yet, and we had not made it to a maintenance Sunday...yet. 

As the days passed, I found myself growing increasingly eager to feel Russell squirming over my lap, his bare bottom turning red under my firm hand. The anticipation was building, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I would need to assert my dominance with a thorough spanking. 

On a random Tuesday, after Russell left for work, I made my way to the kitchen, eager for my morning coffee. However, as I approached the Keurig, I was met with an irritating sight. The water reservoir was bone dry, and Russell's used pod remained in the machine. Very poor Keurig etiquette if I do say so myself. Right up there with someone microwaving maple oatmeal or fish, in the communal workplace microwave. 

There's just unwritten rules in a society, right? 

A wave of minor annoyance washed over me, quickly replaced by a spark of excitement. This was the perfect opportunity to exercise my authority and remind Russell of his place in our dynamic. 

I reached for my phone, snapping a picture of the empty reservoir and offending spent pod. With a smirk playing on my lips, I composed a message to send to Russell at work. 

"This is how you left it for me?" I typed, attaching the incriminating photo. 

My thumb hovered over the send button for a moment, savouring the anticipation of his reaction. This little infraction would provide the ideal excuse for the spanking I had been itching to administer, and I couldn't wait to see Russell's face when he realizes the consequences of his actions. 

As I hit send on the initial message, a wicked grin spread across my face. I knew Russell would be in some high-touch meeting with the executives, squirming in his seat at work, anxiously awaiting my next communication. I decided to twist the knife a little further, my fingers dancing across the screen as I composed a follow-up text. 

"We're going to have a little 'chat' when you get home, young man," I typed, my tone dripping with mock disappointment. I could almost hear the nervous gulp and imagine the look on his face amidst his senior leaders and peers, his stomach twisting into knots and wondering if the rest of them knew he'll be getting a spanking tonight. The thought of him spending the entire day dreading our impending discussion filled me with a great sense of power and anticipation. 

As the day wore on, I found myself growing more and more excited for Russell's return. I wanted to set the perfect scene for our little chat, so I took great care in selecting my outfit. I chose a vintage 1950s, housewife dress that hugged my curves, pairing it with delicate pearls, bold red lipstick, and sheer hosiery that accentuated my legs. I slipped into a pair of sky-high heels, the click against the hardwood floor filing me with a sense of power and confidence. 

I surveyed my reflection in the mirror - a perfect blend of classic femininity and modern dominance. Turning my attention to the vase of wooden spoons on the kitchen counter, I carefully selected the one that would serve as my instrument of correction. I left it resting in the vase, a silent threat waiting to be unleashed. 

As the sound of Russell's car pulling into the driveway reached my ears, I positioned myself near the entrance, a warm smile playing on my lips. Despite the welcoming façade, we both knew the truth - in this household, I was the one in charge, and Russell was about to receive a firm reminder of that fact. 

We exchanged pleasantries, our voices light and casual, as if nothing were amiss. However, I could see the flicker of recognition in his eyes as he took in my dramatic appearance - the cinched waist of my vintage dress, the shimmering pearls at my throat, the towering heels that elevated me above him both physically and metaphorically. 

I watched as his gaze drifted past me, widening slightly as he noticed the straight-backed, armless chair positioned in the center of the living room. The absence of our usual coffee table was a glaring omission, replaced by this ominous piece of furniture that seemed to dominate the space. 

My voice was calm yet commanding as I issued my order. "Strip," I demanded, my eyes boring into his. "I want you completely naked, right down to that locked up cock of yours." Piece by piece, his clothing fell away, revealing his vulnerable form. 

He stood and lowered his eyes before me, utterly exposed save for the chastity cage that encased his manhood. I nodded towards the corner by the front door. "Go stand there and think about why we need to have a chat tonight," I directed, my tone still calm but strict. "Hands behind your head, nose to the walls." Obediently, Russell assumed the position, his bare skin prickling with goosebumps. 

Even though our FLR contract was signed several days ago with rules and consequences set, I was vague enough to use the term punishment generically. I had not dug deep into the different forms this could take. Russell knows all of this anyway, but I thought I would flex my dominance and humiliate him even further, by plainly explaining his current predicament. 

"Cornertime is an integral part of our discipline routine, young man," I matter-of-factly explained, my voice steady and authoritative. "Before and after every spanking, you will be positioned in a designated corner of my choosing, bare-bottomed and nose to the wall." 

"Pre-spanking cornertime allows you to contemplate your misdeeds and anticipate your impending punishment. Post-spanking cornertime provides and opportunity for reflection, to feel shame and acceptance of your corrected state while on humiliating display to the rest of the room." 

"During cornertime, you are forbidden from speaking, fidgeting, or attempting to cover your reddened bottom, young man. The duration of your timeouts will be determined by the severity of your offense and my discretion." 

I paused for a moment before continuing my preachy monolog, taking in the sight of his trembling form in the corner. It was a lovely view from my perspective. 

"A common length for your cornertime, young man, typically will range from fifteen minutes to one hour, depending on the circumstances. For minor infractions or routine maintenance spankings, I will usually be giving you a quarter-hour of contemplation both before and after the punishment."

"However, for more serious transgressions or particularly intense discipline sessions, I may extend the cornertime up to sixty minutes on either side of the spanking." 

I knew from my own experiences to always use a timer, and that the unpredictable duration adds an element of psychological tension, which will keep Russell on edge and fully focused on his penance. 

With my rant complete and my fifteen minute timer nearing its end, I stood and heel-clicked out of the room and into the kitchen. I reached for the wooden spoon from the vase and made certain Russell could hear me clanking it from the glass and against the other wooden utensils. 

Its weight was solid and reassuring in my palm, I knew that this was only the beginning of the lesson I had in store for my naughty little "boy". 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: The Struggle is Real