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Under The Whip

A place where a humble blind service submissive can calm her mind and clear out the corners with her thoughts, opinions, stories, experiences, and tribulations.
5 months ago. Friday, August 22, 2025 at 5:12 AM

I rarely, if ever, earn punishments on my Obedience App. I take such pride in serving well, in staying aligned with Their expectations, that the little “wheel spins” often feel more like a playful reminder of what could be, not what will be. I confess, I had grown comfortable in the thought that the punishments tucked away inside the app were almost, theoretical. Always there, but never truly meant for me.


Until today.



Two of my spins landed on physical punishments. One over the knee spanking with Their bare hand. One with the paddle. They’ve been sitting there on the list for so long, I almost thought I would never face them. But my Master Calvin, with His unshakable steadiness, made sure that I did.

 

It was harder than I expected. The sting of His hand. The sharp bite of the paddle. My body betrayed me with writhing, squirming, struggling to escape the very thing I knew I needed. And He, my calm and unyielding Master, held me down firmly, finishing what He had promised. It was the first time He’s ever had to officially discipline me.


And I loved it.



Not because I earned the punishment, no, I feel the weight of my mistakes, and I long to do better. But because He followed through. He kept His word. He showed me that His leadership is not only sweet and tender but also stern and unwavering. His strength humbled me, grounded me, and reminded me exactly who is in control.

 

I am so grateful for Him. For His guidance. For His Mastery. For the way He leads, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. Because that’s when I am reminded most deeply of the truth. He commands, I surrender. Today, I am proud of Him. And proud to kneel, marked by His discipline, softened by His strength, and wrapped in the fullness of His love.


Both of my Masters are the axis of my being, the steady pull that draws me back to the quiet center of my submission. In their presence, I am humbled, softened, unmade, and then remade. To kneel for them is not duty, but sacred privilege, an honor that fills me with reverence.

 


I serve not because I must, but because my heart knows no other truth than to belong to such extraordinary men.

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