Trial and Error

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Your slave in training needs a little correction.
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It's been a long day for you, it's Saturday, and you've put in a full twelve hours. You come home to find that your house is a mess. As you look around, you see clothes everywhere, the dishes are still stacked in the sink from breakfast, and there are some from a certain someone who ate lunch and dinner in the house as well. "Lacey!" you shout, "Get out here, NOW!" I'm in the computer room, surfing the internet. I hear the anger in your voice and I scurry out.

"Yes, Master?" I squeak as I wring my hands together, as though suddenly noticing the mess I've left around the house.

"Didn't I leave you a list of chores to do while I am at work?" you ask softly, your eyes glinting. I nod and look at the floor.

"Yes sir, you did..." I say softly.

"Why have you not done them?"

"I-I um..." I stammer, looking for an excuse or a lie. You grab my arm and drag me over to the nearest chair, unzipping my jeans and pulling down my panties; you pull me over your knees and apply your hand to my ass, setting it on fire. I cry out and squirm over your lap. You let me up after about five minutes of spanking me. I sniffle and look at you through my tears.

"You will now complete your chores while I get cleaned up. I will inspect your work and if it is not to my liking, you will do it over again, and you will receive a harsher punishment than what you will receive if I find everything to my liking. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sir, may I pull up my pants and panties?" I choke. You nod and head upstairs. I fix myself and scurry to complete my chores, picking up the laundry, cleaning the cat boxes, and doing the dishes. When you return I am drying the dishes, ready to put them away.

"Wait," you instruct and I jump, nearly dropping a plate. You raise an eyebrow and take the plate from me, inspecting it while I nervously watch. Satisfied, you hand it back to me, but you frown as you pick up a glass. I bite my bottom lip as you show me a smudge. I take the glass from you and start to clean it again, my back toward you. I hear you go into a drawer and pull something out. I know it is the dreaded wooden spoon and sure enough you grab the nape of my neck as I put the glass on the drying rack and bend me forward, my face in the sink. You pull my jeans and panties down once more and apply the spoon to my backside at a brisk pace. I screech, spewing apologies as I wiggle under the wrath of the spoon, putting my hands back to shield myself, but you continue, applying more force to my hands. You let me up after 35 to each cheek. You release me and I remain in position, still sobbing. "Did you clean the counters and the stove?" you ask, I nod and you point out quite a few spots I've missed. I bite my bottom lip again, caught in a lie.

"I was trying to finish in a hurry," I lie quickly. You can tell I am lying by how badly I am shaking.

"You were trying to finish in a hurry...?" You ask softly, a hint of warning in your voice.

"I was trying to finish in a hurry, Sir!" I correct myself, but this was not just an issue of address and I realize that all too late. You were giving me a chance to tell you the truth, and still I lied. You sigh and point to the "game room". My eyes grow wide and I try to redeem myself, but it is too late, I have done one of the worst things I could have done. I have lied to you, to my Master. Trembling violently, I retreat to the "game room", a multipurpose room meant for entertainment as well as correction. We have a futon, a house warming gift given to us by my father, in this room, and I know what I am to do. It is currently a couch so I strip completely and drape myself over the back of it, my bottom in the air, fully exposed and ready for punishment. You do not come in right away, since you know that waiting for my punishment makes me feel worse. By the time you come in, about ten minutes later, I am squirming, my arms are supporting me and they are shaking. My eyes remain forward. I watch you go into the closet and pull out a plastic hanger. The tears spring into my eyes and I am feeling very remorseful now. You stand in front of me for a moment, holding the hanger in one hand and smacking the palm of your other hand with it. My eyes are staring at the hanger, but you are speaking to me now, and I must listen to what it is that you are saying. I look up at you.

"Do you know why you are in this position?" you ask me calmly.

"Yes, Master," I say softly, my eyes dropping to your feet.

"Why?"

"I did not do what was asked of me, Sir."

"That's right, and what else?"

I grimace, "And I lied to you and did not properly address you, Sir."

"Very good. Perhaps you will remember next time and I expect that you'll do better in the future?"

I nod and croak, "Yes, Master."

You nod in response and walk behind me. I cringe and brace myself, tensing. "Lacey..." your voice holds a note of warning, "Spread your legs a little, I don't want you clenching." I obey at once and spread my legs slightly so that I am forced to relax, I am also on my tip toes, since I am rather short and draped over the couch. A minute passes by but it seems like an eternity, I finally hear the WHOOSH of the hanger, crying out as it sets my ass a blaze; it's as though you're using a fire whip.

"Master," I cry, "Master, I won't lie anymore, I promise I'll do better Sir!"

"I know you will, my pet." WHOOSH THWAP! WHOOSH THWAP! WHOOSH THWAP!

"MASTER! Please Master! It hurts so much..." I am hissing through my teeth and crying, kicking my feet up a little, but not high enough to stop the burn, I must keep my balance.

"I know it does, it's supposed to." WHOOSH THWAP! WHOOSH THWAP! WHOOSH THWAP! I am feeling very sorry for myself right now and I squirm and sob as you continue. You let up after I've been given 50 to each cheek. You return to the closet and bring out the Aloe Vera and Vitamin E lotion. I do not feel as though I deserve to be soothed and shake my head as I continue to soak my hair with tears. You do not wish for any long term damage however and walk behind me. A short time later I feel the lotion, cool and gentle, put out the fire on my backside. You pick me up and carry me around the couch, sitting down and comforting me. I cry with my face buried in your chest, my entire body shaking. After a while I am calm, you give me a piece of chocolate, but I refuse, I do not deserve to be rewarded in that fashion. All I want is for you to hold me. Finally, you help me put my clothes back on and ask what I have made for dinner; you noticed something cooking on the stove. I look up at you and smile, my eyes glistening from crying. I have made you dinner, despite not doing the rest of my chores, I made dinner. "Green curry chicken, Master" I respond hoarsely.

You smile, "Then let's go eat," you respond gently and, with a reassuring hug that all has been forgiven; we walk into the kitchen for dinner.

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