Does The Penalty Fit the Crime?

Have you ever experienced something that you just didn't feel you could ever share with anyone, whether it be friends, family, or the on-line world?  Well, it's no surprise I can't tell friends and family anything that goes on in my relationship, but there really is not much that I haven't felt comfortable sharing here on-line except maybe just a couple of things. 

One punishment in particular many months ago is one of the those things I have been holding back.  It was so intensely humiliating and it created so many different emotions in me, I just didn't know how to talk about it. 

In the beginning of my slave training, Master was overly critical and strict.  I understood His reason for this but it didn't make it any easier to accept.  To become the slave He needed me to be, certain behaviors had to be "broken", and in certain situations, getting someone's attention (particularly me) can call for drastic measures.   

My lesson on this particular day: THERE IS NO ROOM FOR DOING THINGS HALF-ASSED!!

One of my daily tasks is to make sure our bathroom floor is clean of any hair.  I shed like crazy...what can I say.  Because we have white tile, my strands of dark hard really stand out and has always been one of Master's pet peeves. Long before we were involved in our D/s relationship, this pissed Him off to no end.  And frankly, I didn't really care.  I figured if my hair on the floor bothered Him that bad, He would eventually clean it up.  Otherwise, He could wait for me to get to it, which was usually every week or so.

It was no surprise that this was one of His first imposed rules but I couldn't just sweep it or vacuum it.  He gave me a little blue hand sweeper, with a miniature dustpan.

I had successfully completed this task every day for months but apparently a little complacency set in.  This day in particular, I had swept up the floor in the morning before showering.

Later that night, I went upstairs and Master greeted me at the bedroom door.  I could tell He was agitated as He asked me to follow Him to the bathroom and pointed out a few strands of hair on the floor.  All my attempts to explain to Him that I really had cleaned it that morning fell on deaf ears.

I was not at a place yet in our M/s relationship where I had learned to own my mistakes and accept my fate.  So, I continued to plead my case until He very harshly ordered me to get my clothes off and get on my hands and knees in the middle of the bathroom floor.

At this point, I opted to shut the %&$* up and do as I was told but was certainly not happy about it.  All I could think was how unfair He was being. 

Was I supposed to clean the damn floor multiple times a day?

I now know the answer to that is how ever many times it needs it! 

Anyways, once down on the floor I realize my eyesight must have been a bit fuzzy that morning (no coffee yet) because it was obvious, even to me, I did not do a very thorough job.  I also admit, I didn't really lift the bath rugs and there were several hairs hanging from the edges of the rugs.  Oh gosh...this was not good!

He begins chastising me about doing my job half-assed and tells me to pick up each hair.  I ask Him for the dustpan but am told to pick them up one by one with my fingers.  Well, I have acrylic nails and despite try after try, I could not manage to grasp a single hair.  Looking up at Him, thinking He might take pity on me at this point, you can imagine my surprise when He ordered me to pick up each one with my mouth!

With my bare ass up in the air and head bent down, I tried to pick up the first hair with my lips. This was just as unsuccessful as my fingers.  Anger was now boiling in my throat causing it to burn and tears were starting to well in my eyes, but I finally stuck my tongue out and licked up that piece of hair.  As He held His hand out for me to deposit the hair, I can honestly say I despised everything about Him.

I continued licking up each hair but began to slow down as the tears started to fall.  The sting of the switch landed on my ass and continued over and over again as if to prod me along like an animal.

Thankfully, He stopped me once the main part of the bathroom was clean and didn't expect me to continue into the toilet closet.  That sincerely would have made me throw up.

With hurt pride and knees, He helped me stand up.  Never in my whole life could I remember feeling so low and humiliated.  I didn't want to look at Him, speak to Him or be near Him but it didn't stop Him from holding my chin and directing my face up to His and making me look directly into His eyes. 

You will complete your task thoroughly from now on.  Do you understand? 

Yes, Sir.

Even though I was mad, what I realized later on was that I was the one who had not done as expected. 

Now, does the penalty fit the crime?  I have to suppose so.  He certainly made His point and quite an impression because there is not a single day that goes by that I don't think about that punishment as I clean EVERY hair off that bathroom floor!