Using Spanking to Modify Behavior in a Domestic Discipline Relationship
I recently left the keys to our house in the front door; for several hours, unknowingly. When my husband came home, he found them, and then he found me. We didn’t exchange any words at first. My eyes widened as I realized my mistake, and his eyes pierced me with a stern look. The look.
I knew I was going to receive some form of discipline for this regardless of what I said, but still I tried.
“I didn’t mean to.” I stood frozen as he moved closer.
He stopped to fish a small wooden paddle out of a bag we took to a party a few nights ago. I winced. He spanked hard in disciplinary sessions and I already knew I wasn’t getting a warmup.
He sat on the edge of the couch and patted his thigh with the paddle.
“Now,” he boomed after a few seconds.
I wanted to accept my punishment and I wanted to run away, the combination resulting in a state of paralysis where I just stood there unable to move.
“Five. Four. Three.”
The countdown jolted me, and I knew if I wasn’t over his knee by the time he got to one I’d be in for much worse than this. It wasn’t the time to be a brat, and he wasn’t going to match that energy.
I broke free from the paralysis and stepped towards him. Once I was in reach, he pulled me by my arm over his knee and immediately pinned my legs with his. I barely had a chance to settle into the position before the paddle was coming down hard. The kind of force he only uses when I’ve done something really stupid.
I squirmed in his lap and pleaded, promising I wouldn’t do it again. But nothing I did had any impact on him. He just kept spanking, harder and faster. Until I exhausted my energy and I laid still over his lap, sobbing and accepting my fate.
“Are you going to leave the keys in the door again?”
“No, Sir.” I sniffled.
“Do you know how dangerous that was?” He spanked my thighs, evoking new pain reactions and screams from me.
“Yes, Sir!” There was a panic in my voice as I realized my leggings were still on. He always delivered discipline on bare skin and I was not about to give him any reason to be reminded of that. I tried to stay still and take the rest like a good girl.
And I did. I managed to take the rest of the spanking with my leggings on. At the end, he pulled me up into his lap and stroked my hair.
“I don’t ever want to see those keys left in the door again. Do you understand?”
I nodded against his chest.
“Words.”
“Yes, Sir. I won’t leave the keys in the door again.”
“Good. You’re going to be one very sorry and very sore girl if you do.” He kissed my forehead and patted my butt, standing us both up in one movement. We continued our evening as normal. No resentment. No guilt. No anxiety or fear.
We use spanking in lots of different ways in our relationship. For fun, stress-relief, brat taming, and discipline. But is spanking really effective as a means to modify behavior in a consenting DD relationship?
I obviously can’t answer that question for anyone but myself. I’ve been asked many times, how can it be a punishment if you get turned on by it? The logic they spin is that because I get turned on, I’ll obviously do that bad thing again to get spanked again.
Am I going to leave the keys in the door again? Possibly. I make mistakes. Will it be because I want to get disciplined again? No.
I wanted this DD dynamic not to get disciplined every chance I get (we have our brat dynamic for that). I wanted it because I like to be cared for in this way. I’d rather be punished for mistakes than have them ignored or lingering longer than they should.
And being in a DD relationship is erotic for us both. The power exchange has taken our sex-life to places I used to only fantasize about.
Spanking is often seen as a negative reinforcement. But for someone who gets turned on by spanking, it’s a bit more complicated. It doesn’t make me afraid to make mistakes. Instead, it empowers me to own my mistakes and not dwell on them.
When I unlocked the door earlier, my mind immediately went to the spanking I received yesterday. My core fluttered at the memory. It was a good memory. I remembered how much he cared about me, and how lucky I was to have this dynamic that made me feel so safe and loved.
And I remembered to take the keys out of the lock.