Spanked in Uniform

My mom left this morning at 6:45 AM.  I’m going to miss her, but it will be nice to have a little time to myself some days.  Anyway, I mention the time because I was still awake.  You see, last night I decided to have a drink with my mom after I got back from my writing workshop.  It had been a long and stressful day and one scotch on the rocks turned into a double plus two large tequilas.  I drank them over a period of several hours but I don’t drink much or often (long story) and it doesn’t take much to make me drunk.

I didn’t behave badly — I’m mostly the same but slightly more affectionate when I drink — but for whatever reason I couldn’t sleep. I know what time my mother left for the airport because I was still awake to say goodbye.  Paul was off today so after my parents had gone he urged / forced me back into bed and I finally got a few hours of sleep.  I woke up groggy and grouchy.  I told myself I was going to spend the day in  my pajamas drinking coffee (except my parents had finished off the cream) and maybe doing a bit of calligraphy.

Paul had another plan.  He wanted me to put on a formal uniform (green shirt, black gymslip, tie, green kickers and knee socks). I wanted nothing of the sort and made that clear several times, something which was dubbed “whining.” He went off to the market to get me some more cream (okay that was nice) and made it clear I was to be in my uniform when he got back.  I sulked a bit in bed and then got up to change into the uniform.

As I expected, it was uncomfortable and didn’t improve my mood.

Paul got home, fussed with my collar and tie a bit and then pronounced me acceptable. Then he determined despite the fact I had reblogged my caning he was going to take a picture of my marks and tweet it. It’s a measure of how hungover I was that I let him.

That done, he took me into the living room, pulled out a chair and had me lift my gymslip so he could lower my knickers. Embarrassment flooded my fuzzy head, but soon my head was down and I was across Paul’s lap getting spanked on my already sore (see comment about cane marks) bottom.  He only used his hand, but it felt like it lasted a long time and definitely hurt.

Afterwards I worked on my calligraphy a bit — I’m starting a new series of classes tomorrow night on the italic alphabet — but after an hour felt very tired so asked if I could take a nap.  I could and did, still in my uniform.

The day did make me feel looked after but frankly I think Paul enjoyed it more than I did.  It also reminded me why I don’t drink much or often.

7 thoughts on “Spanked in Uniform

  1. Pandora

    Well, for our sake I’m glad Paul insisted, because I’m glad we got to see the photo 🙂 But poor you, being spanked on a hangover!
    A thought: I don’t know to what extent you identify your kink as submissive, but I’ve always got the impression you fitted better into the “bottom” category, even within a punishment dynamic. It occurs to me that one of the ways you could define the difference between the two mentalities is the response you have to a situation like this. Personally, if I’d been put through a punishment/scene I hadn’t wanted by Tom or D, when it was over I’d feel a flush of pride and pleasure that I’d endured it for them and given them what they wanted. Once the actual suffering was over, my enjoyment of having pleased them would override my indignance at having been put through it when I wasn’t in the mood. The idea of actually retaining that indignance after the scene is surprisingly unfamiliar to me. (Umm… I’m worried now that it might sound like I’m implying a value judgment here. I’m really not. Doing something for Paul even though you didn’t want it much is clearly a gesture of love – arguably even more so if you didn’t even get a big rush of positive feedback afterwards.)
    I don’t know if you can generalise from that or if it means it’s just a difference between you and I, but I thought it was interesting anyway 🙂

  2. Em

    I’d be lying if I said I was sorry Paul posted the picture. It’s lovely and the marks are wonderful 🙂
    I enjoy hearing about people in uniforms, but the thought of wearing one myself always makes me a bit anxious. I’m much more into comfort and I’ve never been a very pressed and polished person. I can’t imagine ever passing a uniform inspection. Having to spend an entire day in one, even if it made my partner happy, would definitely be a chore.

  3. Mija

    Thank you for your sweet comments. As to the rest, I think I may engage in The Great Terminology debate about what I self-identify as in another blog post. It’s something I’ve thought about rather too much. 😉

  4. Mija

    I’m not a very tidy person either, nor generally pressed and polished. The thing with uniforms is they’re made to look tidy and together and also made to hold up to wearing by messy children. So one does tend to look smart in them, however badly the tie gets done up.
    But yes, the British ones are largely uncomfortable, especially when one has a partner into tight collars.

  5. Em

    Oh! I didn’t even think of tight collars, I’m really not sure I could do that. I’m extremely sensitive to having things like that around my neck, in fact just thinking of it is making me vaguely uncomfortable. I used to joke that I must have been strangled or hanged in a former life. Even mock turtle necks are out, and full on turtle necks are never going to happen. Though maybe if it was kink related the response wouldn’t kick in the same way?


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