The Key Thing

The whole key thing had gotten out of hand. I couldn't tell you why I kept screwing up in this area, only that I felt out of control every time the keys were misplaced or lost or locked in the car. Here I am, an intelligent woman with an above average IQ, and something was causing me to feel and act like a blithering idiot when it came to those damned keys. The last time was so frustrating I felt sure that some unseen force had taken a choke hold on my brain, and I officially lacked the capacity to be responsible. As I told BabyMan about the lost keys, I cried. I was convinced that I could no longer be trusted... and I hated myself for my own stupidity.

When I told him over the phone that I had lost my keys, after so many mishaps over the last few weeks, the first thing he did was laugh. Normally, I'd be relieved to hear his laughter. B'Man sports a good sense of humor, and his laughter is usually relaxing to me, like wrapping myself in his arms and being held tight against his chest while I listen to his heart beating as I breathe in his cologne. His laughter is comfort food for me. But this time I could only bury my head in my hands and sob quietly.

I think at first he considered it not such a big deal. After all, they're just keys, certainly replaceable easily enough, and just a minor inconvenience. But he heard me agonizing over the incident, and realized that it was so much more. There was a sincere fear in my voice. A fear that I was losing confidence in myself, perhaps losing my mind a little. I felt stupid, untrustworthy, out of control, and angry at myself for being irresponsible and careless... again. When he finally made it clear that I was to be spanked for the lost keys, I was surprised. He had never punished me for something like this before. After all, it didn't fall under one of the four categories. I didn't lose the keys out of disrespect, disobedience, or dishonesty or dangerous behavior. It was simply an honest mistake.

We had plans to go out to dinner with friends that evening. He demanded that I "girl up," not only for the evening, but for a spanking. For a moment I felt worse. Not only am I a complete moron, but now I'm going to be a complete moron with a blistered behind. But I couldn't be angry with him. After all, he had every right to be frustrated with me.  Hell, I was frustrated with myself!

When he got home he wasted no time. But there was something in his demeanor that I hadn't expected. It was compassion. Don't get me wrong, B'Man is a very compassionate man, but I was expecting irritation behind those eyes. He took me to the bedroom and told me to bend over the bed as he lifted my skirt and pealed back my panties. My tears silently splashed on the beadspread.

"This isn't a punishment, Sugar," he said softly.

I frowned, confused. "Then what is it?"

"Well, first, I want you to feel better about this. I think this will help. You're awfully down on yourself, and I know you feel like you've let me down."

My guilt. He was attempting to alleviate my guilt. I shook my head indicating that I understood him.

"And second," he went on, "I think you need a reminder that you need to be more careful with your keys. You haven't been paying attention to them. You leave them around, you toss them anywhere and then can't find them when you need them."

He started spanking me hard with the leather paddle, and then he switched over to a hard plastic paddle he had procured a couple of weeks earlier. I tried to suppress the cries, but they built up in my chest like a shaken bottle of beer until they erupted in agonizing wails.

From now on you're going to keep your keys in one place at all times, do you understand?

"Yeeesssss"

"Where do you want to keep them?"

I shook my head. I couldn't think straight. I just wanted the pain to stop. I was having trouble staying still and I collapsed on the bed. He reached under me and lifted me back into place.

"You're going to hang them up on the hook behind the door from now on." WHAP! "Right?"

"Right!"

This went on for another couple of minutes and then he let me up and hugged me.

It's funny. I immediately felt better about having lost my keys, locking them in the car, leaving them in the trunk, having to replace them, the inconvenience, and the irresponsibility, and the carelessness... it was all over. Now my keys go on the hook behind the door, and with the exception of maybe a couple of days, I've been extra careful to have them there at all times. Every once in a while out of the blue he'll ask me "Sugar, where are your keys?"

"On the hook behind the door," I'll say with confidence, my head held high, and a bit of an attitude.

B'Man just smiles and winks at me.  "That's my girl."