My favorite ways to put disobient girls in their place;

    • A firm slap followed by a stern “Excuse me”?
    • Bending her over mid sentence for inspection. It’s hard to sass when you’re exposed like that.
    • Grabbing a fistful of her hair, forcing her head up to meet my gaze, and saying “mind your manners”.
    • Pulling her over my lap for a quick, but hard spanking. It should be under 2 minutes, but intense enough to remind her it could go a *lot* longer.
    • Making her kneel beside you while you’re finishing something up. Stuffing her panties in her mouth and warning her not to drop them is an added bonus.
    • Cuffing her hands behind her then exposing her tits. Reminding her that she’s eye candy needs to drop the attitude.
    • Yanking her pants to her knees, grabbing a tight hold of her neck, and marching her to the corner. Make her hold whatever position you prefer once she’s there, but her struggling to keep up and the look on her face while you remind her who’s in charge and what you’re going to do to her for misbehaving is perfect.
    • Making her strip naked for a spanking. Pull her over your lap, and make her sit there for a while before you actually begin. Spank her, make her get on her knees and apologize, then pull her back over your lap to finish the spanking. That keeps her off balance and submissive.
    • Grabbing her cheeks with one hand, forcing her mouth open, spitting inside it, closing her mouth, forcefully telling her to swallow, then sweetly asking “what were you saying”?
    • Lastly; Roughly pull her over your lap like you’re going to spank her, but don’t. Instead, play with her pretty little pussy. Edge her. Get her close to orgasm, then put her on her knees. Inform her that only good girls get to cum, and sense she can’t behave, she doesn’t get to cum. Use her mouth for the rest of the night, whenever you want. She’ll be soaked, with only the promise that maybe in the morning, you’ll let her her. That attitude fixes itself, every time.
    claire-adactyl-blog

    “Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries, took the bus home, carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment and cooked myself dinner. You and I may have different definitions of a good day. This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill, worked 60 hours between my two jobs, only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks and slept like a rock. Flossed in the morning, locked my door, and remembered to buy eggs. My mother is proud of me. It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course. She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale” with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs” But she is proud. See, she remembers what came before this. The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles, how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks. She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide. These were the bad days. My life was a gift that I wanted to return. My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs. Depression, is a good lover. So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you. And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world, That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting. It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created. Today, I slept in until 10, cleaned every dish I own, fought with the bank, took care of paperwork. You and I might have different definitions of adulthood. I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college, but I don’t speak for others anymore, and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for. And my mother is proud of me. I burned down a house of depression, I painted over murals of greyscale, and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live But today, I want to live. I didn’t salivate over sharp knives, or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge. I just cleaned my bathroom, did the laundry, called my brother. Told him, “it was a good day.”

    — Kait Rokowski, “A Good Day” (via oofpoetry)

    This is how my parents are proud of me too

    And that makes me love them