I've said it before, but domestic discipline isn't just about spanking! In this entry, I'll go through the main ways Tom punishes me ... well besides turning my butt red :)

I talked about corner time in my last entry. Part of the reason it's so effective is that it's such a juvenile punishment. The woman has to stand in the corner, usually obeying certain rules. For example:

* Nose physically touching the corner
* Hands clasped behind head
* Hands touching sides
* Pants/panties at ankles



Of course, there's no talking and no turning around. There's also no fidgeting around or moving, but if I have an itch or something, I can scratch it and then immediately resume the position.  

Length of time varies a lot. I've heard other women talk about an hour of corner time, but he usually sends me to the corner for around 20 minutes. It still feels like a very long time though!

I think men look at corner time as a kind of test. They've spanked you into submission, and then they're making sure your behavior stays completely submissive by making you stand there in a corner which is something that no girl would normally do.

I also talked in the last entry about being released from the corner. My hands have to be clasped behind my head during corner time, and if I release my hands without his permission even after it's over, then it's more spanking.

So, I really really hate getting my mouth scrubbed with soap. When I was a girl my dad did this to me all the time when I cussed or backtalked, Tom didn't do this to me for the first year or so, and the first time he announced he was going to soap my mouth, I just cried.

Mouth soaping can also be done in some different ways:

* Making her brush her teeth with liquid soap instead of toothpaste.
* Holding a bar of soap in her mouth.
* Using soap on a washcloth.

Before saying more, I just want to be clear that she should NEVER actually swallow any soap.



With Tom, he'll get a washcloth super wet, then put on a ton of liquid soap and wring it out. Then he completely scrubs my mouth. Roof of the mouth, top and bottom of tongue, sides, gums, everything. It tastes so gross! If you've never had your mouth washed out with soap very thoroughly, believe me that it stinks :)

Then one of two things will happen. If there's no more punishment, he lets me wash with a tiny amount of water, which basically only makes things worse. I need his permission to do a full rinse, which he usually gives in about 10 minutes.

If there is more punishment, then I usually have to hold the washcloth in my mouth during it. (Not bunched up so it's choking me or anything, most of it hangs out of my mouth, but it completely keeps the taste of soap in.) So that usually means corner time with the washcloth, or a spanking with soap still in my mouth.

This isn't one that Tom has me do too often, but the rare times he assigns it I cringe. He sits me at a little table with sheets of lined paper, a pencil, and a hand-crank pencil sharpener and makes me write the same thing 100 times. Like...

"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."
"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."
"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."
"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."
"I will ALWAYS obey my husband."

Often this is after a spanking, so that I spend the whole time wincing while sitting on my crimson butt. I think he pays extra attention to my lower butt and upper thighs when he knows I'm going to be writing lines afterward, so it's not the most fun!

One punishment that he doesn't use much at all is grounding. I know plenty of other women get grounded, but his philosophy (which I really appreciate) is that punishment should take care of a problem quickly. Yes the spanking or mouth-soaping is terrible, but once the punishment is done, all is forgiven and we have completely moved on. 

Of these three punishments, the one I most want to avoid is having my mouth scrubbed with soap. A thorough mouth washing followed by a long, hard spanking is probably one of the most effective ways he disciplines me, just because I hate it so much. Of course, it really gets me to think twice about whatever I did that got me punished like that. So come to think of it, I guess the man knows what he's doing :)

While standing in the corner a few afternoons ago, I spent time thinking about whether I would post this hairbrush spanking story on the blog or whether it was just too embarrassing. I decided that the reader has the right to know :)

I've talked about my first domestic discipline spanking before, and the punishment he gave me with the brush. Most of my punishments recently though have been with his hand, the belt, or the spoon. 



Sunday was different. I had walked into our bathroom to get ready to go over to a neighbor's house to see the garden she had just planted. He was in there shaving after his shower, and asked me if I had done the laundry yet. I told him I'd do it as soon as I got back. Can you already tell where this story is going? :)

He told me that I would do it now. I childishly told him that I would do it when I got back. He said, "OK, that's it."

Cue the lightbulb over my head flashing what I had just gotten myself into.

He grabbed the brush from the bathroom counter, took me by the ear, and walked me over to the bed while I whined and complained. I was wearing a pair of his shorts (fancy Sunday attire!), and as soon as we got to the bed, he pulled them down and yanked me over his lap.

He started slapping my butt over the panties I still had on, hard and fast with his hand. I cried out. He must have given me at least three dozen and they hurt like heck.

Then he told me to stand up, pulled down my panties, and dragged me back over his lap. The warmup spanking over, he grabbed the brush and got down to business.

I heard the loudest splat before I felt the intense pain. Instantly there was another, and another ... this one on my upper left thigh! I had really thought the brush was better than the belt, but it sure didn't feel like it at that moment.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

He was just roasting my butt and upper thighs. Spanking faster and harder than normal, he wouldn't let up. There was no lecturing, no pauses, just hard swats up and down my butt and the tops of my thighs. As usual, I screamed hysterically and begged him, which (also as usual) did no good. 

Now I did not enjoy this spanking one bit, and like anytime a guy has you begging over his lap, it was embarrassing. But here was the wrinkle with this one. I've talked before about getting sweaty during spankings. So much twisting, wriggling, yelling, bucking and crying. By the time he had finished though, I was really sweating hard. More on this in a moment.

He eventually let me up, and sent me to the corner with my hands clasped behind my head. I dutifully obeyed, shuffling over with my panties and shorts at my ankles.  He told me I had 20 minutes there. 

I gently sobbed. My butt still hurt like crazy, and I was sure it was covered in red oval brush marks just like my poor upper thighs had to be. I also knew that I had sweated through the gray t-shirt I had been wearing. I even remembered then that I had forgotten to put on deodorant that morning ... I hate when that happens! 

I thought back to a time when something similar happened after one of my mom's whippings when I was 14 or 15.

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Back then, she had commented after my corner time how sweaty I was, which was so embarrassing. The idea of my husband -- or any man -- seeing me like that was too much to bear. I came up with a plan. 

When he released me from the corner, I quickly dropped my arms so he couldn't see. He was having none of it though.



"Did I tell you that you could put your arms down young lady?"

He still had the brush in his hand, bent me over while holding me around the waist, and gave me half a dozen hard swats while I yelped and picked my legs up over and over in a little spanky dance. Those extra swats stung like crazy!

When he was done, he said, "Now let's try this again. Back in the corner."

When he released me for the second time five or ten minutes later, I stood in front of him with my arms still clasped behind my head. He lectured me about doing chores when I'm supposed to and not talking back, the entire time being able to clearly see the small pit stains where I had sweated through my shirt.

Even though he didn't say anything about it, I was totally humiliated. I just hung my head and cried during his lecture.

It was a good lesson though of a few things that, at this point in my life, I really shouldn't have needed any reminder of:

​1. Never talk back to Tom.
2. Always do my chores on time.
3. Don't forget to put on deodorant!

So there you have it. My single most embarrassing domestic discipline spanking to date!
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In my last post, I wrote, "I have to admit, it was very powerful discipline and really made me get my act together. Getting your butt paddled is no fun!" When I wrote that it had yet to really sink in just how true those words would be!

A few days ago, I caught myself about to roll my eyes at something Tom said. I can't remember exactly what, but I'd ask him for help with some chore and he'd told me that was on my list of things to do. To be honest, I was being a bit lazy.



Usually I just roll my eyes when someone annoys me without even thinking about it. It's a habit I've had for as long as I can remember even from before I got spanked! But as I widened my eyes to roll them directly in front of Tom's face (where there would be no chance of him missing it), I saw an Amazon package out of the corner of my eye. The funny thing was that this was just a big square box, and I knew it held dog food and not a paddle like last week. But Amazon packages have now somehow become synonymous with spanking to me.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I had to squirm whenever I sat down for two days after the paddling. And I swear my butt was red and hot to the touch for many days after! 

After I stopped myself from fully rolling my eyes at Tom, I cleaned the kitchen, and then took a shower. When I came back downstairs, there was a very unwelcome sight on the kitchen counter. I froze, staring at its wooden surface.

As if he could hear the abrupt halt of my footsteps, Tom came into the kitchen. Slowly he picked up the paddle, and ran a palm across the face of the board. 

I wanted to say that I shouldn't be spanked, that it wasn't fair, that I hadn't really done anything that bad with the partial eye roll. But as I looked at his big hands holding that paddle, even I didn't have any bratty words to say. 

"Good," he said. "I can see you learned your lesson last week after all."

As he set the paddle back on the counter I let out a big sigh of relief.

"But we'll just leave the paddle here. So you'll remember what happens next time you so much as start to roll your eyes at me."

And ever since that moment, my eyes haven't  even been tempted to roll.

​Tom paddled me the other day.

When I was growing up, I never got the paddle. Maybe an occasional spanking when I was younger with a wooden ping pong paddle...

​But never a big scary paddle...

The only time I had gotten a brief dose of the paddle was in college. Our sorority was no longer supposed to have initiation paddlings, but there were still paddles in the sorority house from the old days. The older girls gave us all a few swats, much less than what I heard they got in the old days. It was more meant to be a fun tradition I guess, but boy did those hurt! I couldn't imagine what a real spanking with one would have been like.

Until a couple nights ago.



I'd had a bit of an attitude with Tom all week. Maybe I just wanted him to put his foot down and spank me. If so I got my wish. He got this long Amazon package, and I was instantly wondering. I'm usually the one who does the Amazon orders. But I knew better than to open it.

When he came home from work, I asked him.

"I'm glad you asked," he said with a smile.

I immediately smelled trouble. He went into the kitchen and opened it while I followed along. And he pulled out a paddle! A big, scary wood paddle. 

I admit I was pretty shocked. I then asked the single most obvious question in history:

"What are you going to do with that?"

"Your attitude has been all wrong recently, Katie. We're going to correct that right now. Bend over the sofa."

I stammered and pleaded with him not to, but he just pointed the paddle toward the couch. I slowly walked over. I was wearing jeans and bent over the arm of the sofa, now whimpering and starting to beg him not to. I was really scared at that point.

I couldn't see him with my butt in the air and face just above the cushions, but I felt the movement.

SWAT

It made the loudest sound. I jumped up, grabbed my butt, and shouted "OWWW."

"Bend back over right this minute," he said.

I slowly complied, and he gave me another. It was just as terrible. I yelled out loudly but somehow stayed in position this time.  

SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT

He gave me at least a dozen, each one horribly bad and causing me to yell out loud. It was a deep, intense pain. By the seventh or eighth swat I was screaming and really sweaty. By the time he got to the last one, I was completely hysterical.

I should have predicted what would come next, but even so I couldn't believe it when I heard the words:

"Now pull those pants down young lady."

"Please," I begged him. "I know my attitude's been terrible, I'm so sorry, but please please please no more."

But even as I said it I was pulling my jeans down. I knew resisting would only make it worse ... he never lets me get out of punishments. I had my jeans down just below my butt when he grabbed them, pulled them all the way down, and then did the same with my panties. I very slowly bent over, still crying.

He stepped back and I gritted my teeth.

SWAT SWAT SWAT

If I thought it was bad over jeans, it was sheer agony on the bare. My butt must have already been crimson, and now he was determined not to let me up until it was blistered. There was probably around ten seconds between swats, time I spent in total fear dreading the next one. I was sure I couldn't take anymore when he paddled even lower on my butt, swatting the tops of my thighs too. 

It was just too much to handle. I collapsed on my knees in front of the sofa arm. He told me that that would have been the last one, but now I was getting more. I cried even harder, forcing myself to assume the position one more time, and he gave me a particularly hard one ... again targeting the base of my butt and upper legs. And then another one. I was in inconsolable hysterics.

It probably took at least a minute for me to realize he had stopped.

He let me cry and then came around and hugged me. I was a sweaty, tear-stained mess, still crying loudly. I desperately craved his comfort. He told me that from now on I was going to act right and have a good attitude and I kept on saying "yes" over and over.

I have to admit, it was very powerful discipline and really made me get my act together. Getting your butt paddled is no fun!


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I've had a lot of fun so far writing this blog, giving my spanking stories, and telling the kind of details that I hope you guys find fun to read. 

While domestic discipline isn't just about spanking. I think there are a few reasons that it's the most common punishment.

It's quick. There's nothing wrong with a drawn-out punishment like grounding, but the great thing about spanking is that it's a fast way to get a totally clean slate. (Well, it may not feel quick when you're over his lap!)



Everyone knows it. Almost everyone gets spanked growing up, and so it's not surprising that domestic discipline would use a punishment we all know.

It's a childish punishment. The woman has usually done something immature by breaking a rule, and spanking her like a bratty child emphasizes that.

It's the most effective. There's no question that a girl yelling in pain is being effectively punished! 

So there are good reasons that people think about spanking when they think about domestic discipline. Domestic discipline is about a lot than just spanking though. It's also about trust, submission, and love. Sometimes that means lecturing, comforting, or other punishments. In one of my next posts, I'll talk more about the other punishments Tom gives me. 

For now I want to tell a brief story about one of the first times I felt like I really understood domestic discipline. I had just said something disrespectful, and he just calmly replied, "If you don't start behaving right now Katie, you're going over my knee."

What I should have done at this point:

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry!"

​What I actually did:

"Fear me husband, I am the devil woman!"

Well, those may not have been my exact words :) But instead of backing down like I should have, I blurted out "You can't spank me for this!" I really have a habit of saying and doing dumb things when a spanking is on the horizon ... Obviously he spanked me then, but instead of giving me a belt whipping or turning my butt crimson with the brush, he gave me a long, hard and very slow hand spanking. 

The entire time, he lectured me. Acting like a brat, disrespecting him, everything I had done wrong. He talked a lot about control too. "You are not the one in control. When I tell you something, you listen."

And listen I did. In part, I didn't have much choice :) He had me pinned over his lap and was slapping my butt very hard over and over. It really sunk in though. This is what I wanted. To give up control, let the man be in charge, and finally be able to explore my submissive side. I think it's what most women want, even if they would never admit it. Domestic discipline is a powerful expression of that submission. 






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