C_of_Sweden
Boy Jake asked me about the punishment he had coming. In talking to him about punishment, he worried that he would not be able to take it. I informed him that he would take it. It is not a negotiation. It is punishment. The idea of punishment is that the person being punished never wants it to happen again. This conversation reminded me of the worst punishment I ever gave one of my boys.
David and I immediately hit it off. We met at a Discipline Corps dungeon party. He was a guest and I was a member. During a particularly difficult bondage scene, David began to show the symptoms of a severe low blood sugar. I was the closet person to him not involved in the scene. I alerted the top and the dungeon master. We had him out of the bondage in less than 20 seconds and had him downing sugared orange juice. He recovered nicely and the play party continued.
After the play party, the club went out to dinner at a local restaurant. David sat across from me and we had a great conversation. As dinner was winding down, David asked me if I was going to the Dallas Eagle later. Understanding what he was asking, I told him yes. We went to the Eagle and quickly found out that I was dominant and that he was a switch but “feeling” my vibe. We went to my pickup truck and he futilely tried to induce me to shoot while he blew me. It was a losing battle on his part.
He moved in with me and we had great fun. David became fascinated with my service in the Marine Corps. I shared my experiences and he was enthralled. During small talk, he told me that he had served in the Air Force as an enlisted man. That was the beginning of a big problem for him.
Over the next six months, we did what all new D/s couples did. It was fun and enjoyable. David worked as a technology consultant in Bedford and I worked as a Tier III Network Engineer for a local telecommunications company. We spent our days working and im’ing. One day, David sent a message that said that he wanted to tell me something important. I told him to let me have it. He informed me that he had worked at Fort Meade in Maryland. For those that do not know, it is the headquarters of the NSA. I thanked him for the information and continued our messages. As an information gatherer early in my life, I reached out to get information on David. It turned out that he was telling me the truth. He did work at Fort Meade; as a weight room cleaner. I snickered and let him tell me all about his dangerous work for our country. As the week progressed the story got larger and larger. This was a one-sided conversation. He just kept on digging that hole. On Friday morning, he told me that he had secretly been commissioned in the United States Marine Corps so he could attend the SEAL school.
1) The SEAL school admits enlisted and officers into the school.
2) He gave me a commission date of 2/22/2002. Even secret (rolling my eyes) commissions must be voted on by Congress. A quick search of the Congressional Record showed no mention of David. My name was mentioned in 1989 but not his.
As the day went on it got deeper and deeper. I had told David early in our relationship that lying was the ultimate sin. By 1600, I had had enough. I explained in detail the evolution of his lie. I explained that I had known it within seven minutes of him uttering it. I reminded him of what I had told him about lying in the beginning. I gave him the choice of taking my most severe punishment or moving his stuff out tonight. After about ten minutes, he told me that he take the punishment.
David’s boss called me about twenty minutes later. He was a friend from way back. He asked me what was wrong with David. He told me he was bawling like a baby in the restroom. I told his boss that he had lied to me purposefully. His boss’ response was “OH MY GOD!”
I left work early and headed home. I was waiting in the entryway when David arrived. He stripped and handed me his clothes. I walked over and dumped them in the pile of his belongings sitting in the living room floor. I grabbed him by his ear and pulled him up the stairs by it. I threw him down on the floor in the master bathroom. He quickly got back up on his knees with tears in his eyes.
Since I attended boot camp in 1985, I have always worn a high and tight haircut. When we started dating, David begged me to give him one. In private, I called him my little wannabe Marine.
I grabbed the shears from under the sink and sheared off his high and tight. He was distraught. I ordered him to clean his hair off of my floor and to meet me in the bedroom.
It was odd that we were in the bedroom and that his well-endowed manhood was limp. I pushed him on the bed and tied his feet to the feet of the bed. I went to the head of the bed and tied his hands to the feet of the bed there. By this time he was apologizing and saying he was sorry. I just stared at him as he realized the futility of it and closed his mouth.
I went to the closet and began to remove items from the corkboard along the wall. I grabbed my favorite paddle, my father’s belt, my quirt, my light and heavy canes, and my heavy rubber strap. I laid all of the items between David’s legs and picked up the heavy rubber strap. I lectured “David, I told you when we first started playing together: Never lie to me. I gave you ample time to think about it and recant. Instead you just made the lie larger.”
I picked up the heavy rubber strap. I aimed for sweet spot on his butt and swung as hard as I could. The lick left an angry red welt on his butt. The second one landed a quarter inch above the last one. When it connected, David screamed out in pain and started crying. The next forty-eight licks came hard and fast each a quarter inch higher or lower than the last one. David was wailing at the top of his lungs. I put down the heavy strap and picked up the quirt. David has never liked back work. I swung the quirt and the two ends landed in the middle of David’s back. As he screamed, he begged for me to stop. He told me he was sorry and that it would never happen again. “That is the first truthful word you have spoken in a while” I replied. I continued to lash David’s back as the welts rose and the wailing died to an incoherent begging. By the end of the fifty lashes, his back had started weeping in several places. I got my bottle of 95% alcohol and sprayed it on his bag to take care of germs. David fought the restraints.
I picked up my favorite frat paddle and began a rapid-fire assault on his ass. He began wailing and crying again. By this time, I had tears in my eyes also. I gave him fifty licks from the left side. When I got to lick thirty-eight on the right side, the paddle snapped down its length. I cussed David for breaking my favorite paddle. By this time, David was hyperventilating. I told him that passing out was not going to stop his punishment. I told him to slow down his breathing. I then picked up my light cane and gave him fifty rapid-fire licks from the right side. David was fighting the licks and the restraints and begging me to stop. I then gave him fifty from the left side. I was now full force crying. I told him that if, after each of the next thirty-two strokes with the heavy cane (my age at the time), he apologized for lying and promised not to do it again, I would relent. He agreed. David’s ass was already ground meat but I never wanted him to forget this night. I swung the heavy cane as hard as I could and caught him right in the sweet spot. Quickly the angry welts appeared on either side of where the cane landed. David screamed and then blurted out the required apology. The next thirty-one strokes turned his ass into an ugly mess. After I was finished, I untied him and told him he had five minutes to clean himself up and return to the bedroom. He arrived with a minute to spare. I pulled the blanket from the bed and threw it in the far corner of the room. I told him to get on the blanket and to not move from that spot until I told him to. Eighteen hours later, I decided that he had gotten my point and let him leave the spot.
Guys, this is why you call punishment, punishment. I do not ever want to do that again and I can tell you he will never lie to me again. The moral for you the reader is this. Don’t lie to me. :)
