This is a guest post by kaya of Underhishand.com.
Sometimes I get punished for not following a rule, doing something I know I'm not supposed to or vice versa. Those punishments seem perfunctory. It's an integral part of our lifestyle, this discipline, and punishment. Maybe just to keep the roles we each live clearly defined. I don't respond the same way to these punishments as I do to when I really fuck up big. It's not even on the same plane.
I don't fuck up on purpose, not these big mistakes. I do at times ignore rules, test the boundaries. I suppose to make sure that Master hasn't forgotten His role? I'm not sure what my motivation is really, but I know that I need to do that less and less often. But that's another entry.
Maybe the reason I react so strongly to being punished is that the mistake was truly just that, a mistake. My intentions, my motives don't seem to matter. I am human, I will fail. I feel like I am being punished for that alone.
Yet, I can recognize the value of having such strictness. Because I don't ever have to question His motives, I am very secure in my place as His. I know, without a doubt, that He strives to make me perfect for Him, that His reactions to my behavior are for His benefit, and therefore, my benefit. That is comforting.
The punishment place is not an actual place. It's a place in my mind, a place I go to when confronted with His anger and disappointment. A place where I work through all the emotions. The punishment itself doesn't factor in at all. I'm in the same place in my head whether I am sent off somewhere and ignored, or whipped to tears. And traveling the road back is hard.
It doesn't seem to matter that Master reassures me repeatedly, that the punishment is over, that He still loves me, that I am still His 'good girl'. I don't feel it. Not until I come out of that place. Only when I feel like I am back home can I accept His forgiveness, His affection and feel worthy of looking Him in the eye once again.
There are very definite stages to coming back from there. I am angry initially, at Him. For not being more accepting of my humanity. I glare and argue, defend myself and try to blame everything but me. Then I get depressed and vow to never ever try to please Him again because my efforts are completely unappreciated. I doubt my value as a slave, my self-worth. I question why He would want me when I make Him so disappointed.
Once I have made it through all that, I can look at the fuck up with open eyes. I can recognize just where my mistake was, I can talk about how to remedy it or how to avoid repeating it. I can see what Master saw in the first place. And only then can I start making my way back. This can take days sometimes, this process.
There is value to such self-examination, as hard as it may be at the time. Accepting that my behavior is a direct reflection on Him, that my thoughts and actions need first to be scrutinized, on my own, for what I know He expects of me. I will fail again, I'm sure. And I will be back in that place. And I am grateful for that. I'm a better slave every time I come home.
My name is kaya. I’ve been a consensual BDSM slave to my Owner since 2004. I’m a housewifecunt, a servant of both the domestic and sexual variety. Both my daily and long term goal consists of one thing: Please my Owner. Exactly how to please him changes depending on his desires at the time. Some days I succeed; some days I do not. You can follow kaya's life at Underhishand.com.