Domestic Training: 5x Paddle It’s finally spanking-time agai..

Domestic Training: 5x Paddle

It’s finally spanking-time again! 🔥

It’s been a while since we last did a Bad Board punishment session, and honestly, I had almost forgotten just how intense these moments can be. Not in a playful, exciting way. Not in a funishment kind of way. But in the real, raw, humbling way that true punishment is meant to feel.

That’s the thing about a M/s Total Power Exchange dynamic—when I fuck up, it doesn’t just disappear. There are rules, and when I break them, there are consequences. Simple as that. This isn’t some made-up excuse to get spanked and have a good time. Discipline isn’t supposed to be fun.

So when I forgot to put the towel back in the kitchen where it belongs, my Owner made the decision: Five hard hits with the paddle, ball gag in, no warm-up.

I thought I could take it. It was only five strokes, after all. But the second the first hit landed, I realized just how long it had been since I last took a punishment like this. My body wasn’t conditioned for it anymore. The impact was sharp, deep, immediate. Not the slow, burning buildup of a play session, but the kind of pain that instantly floods your system, makes you tense, makes you panic for just a second.

By the second hit, my whole body was shaking, and I knew I was in trouble.

I wanted to be good. I wanted to take my punishment without complaint. But by the third strike, I wasn’t sure I could do it. I was close to using my safeword, something I almost never do. My body wasn’t cooperating, my mind was slipping, and the pain was starting to feel wrong instead of just difficult. And that’s the thing about real punishment—it’s not supposed to push you into an unsafe headspace.

So we paused. My Owner gave me a moment to breathe, to settle, to regain control. And then we started over.

Five strokes. No shortcuts. No easy way out. Because that’s what I earned.

And fuck, it hurt. Not just in the moment but long after the session was over. My ass bruised almost instantly, turning deep shades of red, blue, and purple. Every movement for the next few days reminded me of my place. Reminded me that rules matter, that my obedience isn’t optional.

And you know what? That’s exactly how it should be. A slave without discipline is just a brat with a collar.

It’s not always easy. It’s not always sexy. But this is what I signed up for. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. 😏🔥