I punish myself

[hickorytravail]

It was a bad day today. I'm a professional painter for forty years yet I failed to pay attention and knocked over a can of paint, a full quart spilling over a newly refinished hardwood floor. In 15 minutes I was able to clean the spill with no damage to the floor. But still, it was such a total lack of paying attention, that I felt horribly inept, guilty, and upset with myself. I knew I would have to punish myself later.

Then a few minutes later, my bank called me to inform me that my account was overdrawn by over 90 dollars. I told them that I would cover the deficit that day so they didn't return the check but charged me a $25 fee. I knew I would have to again punish myself later.

Once I sentence myself, there is no going back. If I reneged on my planned punishment I would hate myself so much for being a wimp that I would then have to punish myself even that much harder than originally planned. So I knew I was in for it, and was really gonna get it.

I have this throttle cable about three feet long that even with mild force impacts a pretty severe sting. When wielded with full force, it is breath taking, shocking to the system, burning flash reverberating hot-iron pain. I've taken one hundred strokes at a time, self delivered for a previous punishment, but this time it was more grievous. I sentence myself to 100 strokes with the left hand and one hundred strokes with the right hand per infraction. That comes to 400 strokes in all.

Once I realized that this is going to happen, I sit in my truck dreading what is to come. There is no way to stop it. The more I realize this the more uneasy becomes my stomach. A few tears well up in my eyes and I even begin to shake a little bit. Butterflies in my stomach abound.

I know I have to pay, but I truly fear it. I get home and go into my garage where the cable resides. My breathing becomes short and shallow. Now is the time to face the music. I grab the cable and pull down my pants exposing my rear to its awaited punishment.

I flick the cable mildly on my rear a few times and it stings. That is the only warm up I allow myself. Then it came. Full force. One, two, three, by the third stroke my body shakes, the pain sears, and the shock wave almost overcomes me. Then I get into rhythm, about one stroke per second. it is pure agony, but I keep on reminding myself why I need this, deserve this, and must take it without hesitation. Every fifth or sixth stroke is inadequate, so it doesn't count. After the first fifty full strokes using my left hand I probably really delivered 60. then I change hands and apply 50 more. One quarter of the way there. I don't know if I'll be able to take the full punishment. But I persevere and continue with fifty from each side. Scores of welts I feel, as I allow my hands a bit of a rub between the first and second punishment.

I don't know if I'll make it. This time I do all one hundred strokes from the left hand. Most strokes land on just one area, here the butt meets the thighs. It is already very sore.

Then 100 more from the right hand. I feel I got off easy on these 100. I can't seem to land as significant a blow from my right hand. So I am compelled to pick up the hardwood paddle with the holes drilled. Forty swats bruise a bit, but it is not enough. I go to my bedroom and take my three, three-foot screen spline, remove my socks and apply 25 strokes on the soles of the feet, both sides.

Now I finally feel properly chastened. But to finish off, I take two binder clips and snap them on my nipples. I let out a faint scream. The intensity is excruciating. Finally, I think I have had enough.

I vow never to spill another can of paint or ever get overdrawn again. I think I mean it.