Saturday, May 19, 2012

Records of Their Troubles

One of the things I’ve learned from being in a long distance relationship is that a lot of difficulties can be overlooked with a decent amount of creativity. It doesn’t end here; I’m in a long distance D/s relationship, but the rule still applies.

Punishments are a big part of having a Sir, especially since I’m still going through training. I appreciate them in a way, not because of the punishment itself, believe me; I simply don’t want to feel like I can get away with a bratty behavior.

We have talked* about what my punishments would be if I were physically with him and he could let out his frustration on my body (since I’m the one who caused it). Unfortunately, not even when we visit each other we have such an opportunity, mostly because I’m too happy and excited to be bratty. I’ve earned myself some spanks a few times, for being a smart mouth or tease him too much… That’s about it.
*By talk, I do mean talk, but with our hands on our genitals.

What has gotten me the most in trouble has been my incapacity to remain respectful in certain situations. Usually a warning is enough for me to understand I’m not being cute, but once I get in a grumpy mood I open a portal to hell for him… Which he doesn’t appreciate. Go figure.

The first step is to admit I was being rude and apologize. My fate then rests on how much I aggravate him.

He likes cutting me off stuff I enjoy; I get sent to bed without dessert. Literally. Another times not so literally and I get sent to bed without masturbating. You know what follows, right? I mean, horny and without being able to touch myself… As a more direct punishment, I’m ordered to take a cold shower. In my case it means standing on the corner of the shower squealing every time I reach out my hand to touch the freezing water, and while I’m doing that I have to say out loud the reasons that got me that punishment.

Now comes the worst of all. Worse than not being allowed to masturbate is being ordered to do so and to stop just when reaching an orgasm. Whoever has played that sick and cruel game knows how excruciating it can be. I end up with shaking hands and on the border of tears. Ironically, I also end up with a weird sense of satisfaction, knowing I’m doing it for Him.

There’s something else I end up having to do from time to time, but I wouldn’t call it a punishment; it’s more of a reminder, it’s this:


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