Tag Archives: #SpankieMonster

School Bully & #SpankieMonster


Debbie was in a mood. That mood. Again. That mood where everything was upside down and wrong and it was everybody else’s fault. So there. The only break from her bad mood was to say those forbidden cuss words. In her head. To herself.  Well, not at herself, though.

School fucking sucks. Who invented school and tutors and lessons and school yards and those Goddamned bullies anyway?  Whoever invented school must be some freaking, no wait, some fucking asshole. There you go! What a fucking, fucked up, fucking, fuck up, this fucking school idea was… Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck shit, outta luck, fuck the duck, the fucking fuck, to the fucking fuckity fuck!

She’d keep fuckity, fucking, fuck it all, all the time and then some, she had decided. As if going to the fucking school and following all the fucking, fucked up rules wasn’t fucking annoying enough, the new teacher had started making fucking fun out of her sister Anna, and there was no Goddamn fucking way for Debbie to help her sister without getting in a fuckload of fucking trouble herself.

She was this fucking close to not giving a fuck and to fucking slashing the fucking tires of the fucking fuckmobile the fucked up fucking teacher was driving to teach that fucking bitch a lesson about not fucking over her sister. Yes, Anna was a know it all Missy goodie two shoes and Debbie fucking sometimes wanted to strangle Anna herself.  But that doesn’t give any fucking teacher the fucking right to ridicule her sister.  Debbie would just slash the tires and cut the brake lines if she only fucking could get a-fucking-hold of a fucking knife, but of course, this fucked up school with its fucking rules had all fucking sharp objects under fucking lock and key so she was condemned to fucking sulk impotently in the fucking restroom and having a fucking, fucked up mood. All the fucks! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

“Deborah Felicia Hivenstein!” the voice thundered out of nowhere. Debbie froze mid word “Fah… WHAAAATTTT?”

She knew that the sequence of first name, middle name and last name meant not only anything good, it meant real big trouble.  But what is much worse: it wasn’t the voice of the new teacher nor Anna, not the voice of the principal, not even another teacher, not the janitor nor any classmate. For fuck’s sake, Debbie would have even preferred at this point it were one of these voices or even that of Daddy or Aunt Gwen roaring those hated triple-name staccato.  But her luck had fucking run out because it was the voice of the one, that she had been trying to avoid like the plague: #SpankieMonster…

“You rang?”  #SpankieMonster said, with a calm, nonchalant, slightly annoyed matter-of-fact tone of voice (a bit like James Bond).  He formed icicles standing around Him, as Debbie’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock and horror.  Her eyes retained a look of shock, but her mouth slowly seemed to regain consciousness long before her body would.  Debbie’s lips started trembling, before forming inaudible words, like she was an actress in a 1920s silent movie. #SpankieMonster could read her lips, her mind, and her body language quite effortlessly.  However, He started tapping one foot as if impatiently waiting for her to press out the words audibly.

To His surprise still, a tear broke the silence and ran down Debbie’s left cheek, loud as thunder in #SpankieMonster’s ears. The tear passed down her cheek, creeping around her lips which were now slowly closing into a frown.  Before the single drop of salty tears tumbled down her chin ready to fall off into the abyss, His leather gloved hand shot to her face as if a frog’s quick tongue rushing for a fly. Just as the teardrop started to fall, His fingertip captured it. For a brief millisecond, Debbie’s tear glimmered like a brilliant diamond on His fingertip before He closed His fingers into a fist, hiding that treasure of His to keep (and for her not know about it joining His collection of tears).

“How dare you, young lady, use such foul language on a bright day as this in a building dedicated to learning what matters at life?” He inquired, His head slightly tilted, His eyes drilling past any defences.

Much to His horror, Debbie’s defiant old self just returned as quickly as her tear had spilled out just a moment before.

“Bright day, my ass!” she spat out her words into His face, like it wasn’t that Scary Monster standing before her, in the middle of the washroom at her school. As if He could not magically produce gooey bars of soap out of thin air, or conjure all the paddles, straps, bath brushes and whips needed to teach errant girls and boys the wrongs of their ways. As if neither hot sauce nor ginger, diapers and enemas were a thing in His world, that could make hurty appearances and be administered effortlessly at any place and time #SpankieMonster would appear when summoned by misbehaviour.

#SpankieMonster’s hand reached out, quick like silver, and grabbed Debbie’s ear lobe, yanking it upwards, so that Debbie felt like her earlobe would either tear off or the Monster would pull her up off her toes (or both, in no particular order).  Before she knew what was happening, Debbie was marched – dragged rather – towards the sink.  She could see the defiant expression on her face turn into a painfilled grimace in the mirror.  At this point, Debbie did not know if she was praying someone would come in and hopefully rescue her from this Monster or if she was praying no one would come in to see her in this predicament.  Regardless of which prayer it was, Debbie was praying all the Hail Marys, Heavenly Fathers and any other prayer she could remember, seeing the face of #SpankieMonster glaring at her reflection with the look of mixed disappointment and disgust that she knew meant huge trouble.

The faucet started running, as if it was just as afraid of the wrath unfolding as the poor trembling girl. Meanwhile, SpankieMonster’s free hand produced a bar of soap out of nowhere.  By the orange look of it, this soap was of the bad, bad, bad, bad girl variety: Dial.  The bar was soaked in the running water and it burst into cascades of soapy bubbles.  Soon, the soap was on the way to the girl’s face.  It effortlessly invaded her mouth, passing her pursed lips and knocking ungently – urgently – at her tightly clenched teeth.

“Now — this can go the easy way, with you cooperating, or the harsh way, with you trying My patience, young lady, and, oh boy, will you hate it if you choose the latter!”

Debbie got informed with that methodical, cold voice. Her parted lips started trembling again and another army of tears rushed into both her eyes.  Her tears spilt over, tracing the path of multiple hot rivers down her cheeks. True, she had been slightly overusing the bad word.  Ok, quite a lot, but she had every reason to be effing upset.  And now she would get punished, meanwhile her sister was being made fun off, and the world could go to hell now!

To her surprise, #SpankieMonster let go of Debbie’s ear and grabbed her by the shoulder. He spun her around, facing Him, and looked her straight in the eye.

“What did you just think?” He demanded.

Debbie froze, realizing He could hear every thought.  She blushed 17 shades of crimson, realizing He had heard probably each and every bad word and bad thought.  But then she had no time to dwell on that because those glowing eyes were invading her mind and it felt like fire melting metal, a horrible kind of pain.

“That the world can go to hell now,” she repeated or confessed.  Debbie sniffled, and swiped her hands across her cheeks, trying to stop the tears still running freely down her face.

“No, before that, about your sister being bullied?  Tell Me all about that, NOW,” SpankieMonster thundered, his voice echoing in the school’s tiled washroom.

And so, she did. Confess, or tattle or rather answer His question as truthfully as she could. About that university student working in her class as a practicum teacher.  Her name was Miss Victoria, and she had been making fun of Anna for her second name after reading it on the attendance sheet the first day.

“What is wrong with Marjorie? It is a beautiful name!  It suits Anna well!”

“Miss Victoria says it sounds like Margarine….” Debbie mumbled, hanging her head helplessly.

#SpankieMonster put the bar of soap away as effortlessly as it had first appeared. There would be plenty time enough to deal with Debbie’s verbal diarrhoea outburst of all the f-words later, in the privacy of her home. But right now, He would have to intervene on Anna’s behalf and have that talk with that Miss Victoria, who was abusing her newly minted authority to bully a child, one of His children no less!

From the depth of His coat, SpankieMonster produced a soft cotton handkerchief and helped Debbie blow her nose.  He dried her eyes and captured all her tears like the treasures they were. He gently brushed Debbie’s hair from her face.  Then, He produced a wooden hairbrush out of nowhere and Debbie froze, but He had no intention to hurt her with it. Instead he brushed her hair back, making it look neat and orderly.

“Lead the way to that Miss Victoria, young lady.”  He commanded, grasping Debbie’s hand tightly.  “I need to give her a little chat about abusing her power.”

They left the washroom together.  Debbie walked down the hallway, a little bit awkwardly at first, but then more and more confident. When she noticed all her school mates shying away from them, she gained confidence.  No one was going to mess with the girl who had a Monster with her.  For his part, #SpankieMonster followed two steps behind Debbie, so everyone would see that she is showing the way, and not being dragged by that fierce looking visitation such as Himself.

Some of the other students backed to the walls, covering their buttocks or thighs, as best as they could, upon this scary sight.  Other pupils paled and one other of his girls almost wet herself when she saw Him walking past her.  She had just smoked a cigarette in the locker room. His eyes were like a face slap to that girl and she knew she’d be sorry she had had that smoke later, but for now, #SpankieMonster would not get distracted.

They arrived at the library, where Anna was sitting, heartbroken, ringed by her silent friends.  In among all the books, there were laughing classmates pointing fingers at Anna, chanting an ugly chant.

“Anna Margarine, Anna Margarine, stale palm fat, no dairy queen!”  They jeered at her.

But worst of all, these bullies were spurred on by the student teacher Miss Victoria, who was clapping her hands delightedly.

Debbie looked at #SpankieMonster for help and guidance. She has never seen Him in a state of alertness like this before.  She even felt a tiny little bit sorry for Miss Victoria (Vicky she was starting to call her), but only just a little. 

When SpankieMonster noticed Debbie’s gaze, He bent down to her, thanked her for her help and gestured that she should go and stand by her sister.

“So, young lady, Miss Victoria Roberta Vondall, you believe it is acceptable, to bully and help bully a child under your care? How do you make this misbehaviour even remotely OK with yourself huh?” SpankieMonster thundered over the children’s margarine taunts.

“What are saying to your sorry self that justifies making fun out of a student, so her classmates may think you are cool? Are you not attending university to learn becoming a civilized member of society? How dare you bring shame on your university professors, your parents, this school (your employer) and each and every decent human being for that matter?”  SpankieMonster’s scolding was horrid.  He was also only getting started.

“How dare you giving impressionable young children a bad example in anti-social despicable behaviour? What is wrong with YOU that you seem to believe this was a bright and acceptable idea and not the misconduct, the criminal behaviour it truly is?”

“Well, no matter what you were telling yourself, how you are entitled to ridicule a student under your wing, it ends, it ends here and now and you will be the sorriest girl in the northern hemisphere long before I am halfway done with you!!!”

“Usually, young missie, I would not shame you before your students, but since you had no qualms to make fun of Anna in front of her peers I will set the necessary moral example and punish you, severely in front of all of them, so they may learn, that bullies and other anti-social aggressors do get it in the end!”

Out of no-where a fierce looking drilled oak wooden paddle appeared in SpankieMonster’s hand. The young errant teacher cringed and wanted to protest, but #SpankieMonster had nothing of it.

He grabbed the protesting student teacher by a fistful of her hair and pressed her torso down on the librarian’s book stand. Magically, her trousers and panties fell to her ankles, revealing her plump derriere.

Without any warning, the paddling began.  It started leaving bright red marks after each fierce slap landing on her quivering flesh.

#SpankieMonster kept scolding the student teacher about her poor choice of behaviour as he lay one cherry-coloured red mark next to the other.

The drilled air holes made a strange concerto for pipes and flutes, and the teacher was singing arias of pain, but #SpankieMonster was not impressed.  Whenever Miss Victoria tried to get away from a deserved swat, He would paddle her thighs, leaving crimson marks on that more sensitive skin. After what seemed an eternity, the paddling finally stopped.

Now it was time to wash the naughty student teacher’s mouth out with soap in front of the deeply impressed and shocked audience.

#SpankieMonster explained to the students that bullies always get their mouth soaped out with ivory soap, even if they would be allergic to it.

“Don’t commit the crime, if you cannot pay the price,” He commented, shoving the square white bar of soap into the mouth of the helpless teacher.

She wanted to spit or gag or both but He relentlessly kept shoving the soap into the mouth, making sure there would be not one corner of her mouth left out.  Leaving the bar in place, He then used a scarf to tie the soap in place as a gag.

Then, out came the rattan cane, a dragon cane at that.

“I will not bully anyone!” was the affirmation line, Miss Victoria would have to say, despite the soapy gag. The cuts of the cane would not count unless she counted them properly.  And then the cane started to swish and slice the air and land on her backside, cutting into her flesh. Angry welts rose where the cane had landed, and hellfire broke loose across her skin.

Little Miss Victoria (and anyone else witnessing the scene) would never bully anyone again!

(c) 2017 StrictMotivation@yahoo.com

friendly edited by @kb ~ thank you ~



#food4thought #disrespect 170702

Guess what happens, if you are getting a deserved scolding, and try to switch the subject. exactly, the consequences will be swift and memorable. Not having that sort of disrespect. #StrictMotivation 


#go2bed 170216

#go2bed or #SpankieMonster will see red! #StrictMotivation



Strict Motivation offers help reaching your worthy life goals, through working, goal oriented real life coaching, Easily affordable. Strict Motivation is created to work Long Distance, from the convenience of your home and tailored to your specific needs, including as much discretion as you desire. Your gender identity or age are of no objection to Me. Strict Motivation is a holistic step by step approach. My Successrate with willing people tops 90%. no tricks, just get better with #StrictMotivation (c)StrictMotivation@yahoo.com


#PS “Pomp and Circumstance” 1.01

Pomp And Circumstance / Part 1.01

{copyright 2009, revisited: 2017 (c)StrictMotivation@yahoo.com}

“Get ready, Missy!” he yelled through the house, up the stairway and shook his head. Every morning the same routine. She had skipped breakfast, again, just to sleep in the 10 minutes longer, regardless how Tony insisted that breakfast is the important start in the day. He had cleansed up his plate, and cornflakes bowl, like every morning, read through the paper briefly, and dressed. Now he had his coat and boots on, ready to go to work, and yet she was stalling him, again. He drove her to the uni, and it was no big detour, but he could have insisted she takes the bus. But then she would have to get up 1 hour earlier, and so….

“I will be waiting by the car. You better hurry scurry!” he said in a stern voice, and went outside, into the cold autumn morning. He sat in the car, watching the clock move on, but Janette was no-where to be seen. He pressed the horn, once, twice… no Janette in sight. He sighed, getting really annoyed. She usually should come running by the second time he blew the horn. She would know that if he had to get her in person, she would be in trouble.

Tony got out the car, shaking his head, but hoping Janette was alright and not just sleeping in. He knocked at her bed-room door and entered. She was still in bed!

“Young Lady!” he said in a cold voice. She woke up startled. “Why are you still in bed and not dressed and ready?” he hissed at her. She put on a sweet pout. “But Tony, i told you i was sick…” she mumbled.

“Are you?” he asked her with mockery in his voice. “Or are you just pulling it off so you can skip school?”


(c) StrictMotivation@yahoo.com ~ all rights reservedbratflagcrap



3rd Drawer from the Top in the Study #SpankieMonster


I work at My desk, and My eyes are glued to My work, as I listen to your confession. I dont look up from My work, I dont get tense visibly to you. I give you that very impression, that you are a radio, playing a song I may have heard before. I listen very closely to the words you say, but I do not validate your anguish by looking up to you or giving away I actually do listen.

I let you do all the talking, sniffling and crying, knowing that you are standing a few feet away from both tables, the one with restrains to My left (and your right) being even a little further away from you. I know how much you detest and fear that table, even if it is much less massive than My work desk, but its metal rings for the restraints speak in such a loud volume about inevitable painful punishment, where as the work desk, can be just that: furniture to work at

Right now, it is used for that very purpose, and yet you feel the sting of punishment. You came to confess, but you also came to cleanse your slate. And you came for recognition. Recognition of your failing. Recognition of your feelings, Recognition of what you had done or didnt do. Recognition of your story. But also recognition of how you were trying and how maybe this isnt just about being bad.

And now that desk, that wooden monument, over which your body has been bent over for discipline, correction and education many times over, that very desk that doesnt just harbour pens and pencils and other stationary utensils: letters, envelopes, paper pads, the lap top and tablet, the telephone, as well as the sealing equipment you have been made acquaintance with before, the report card forms, it thrones before you, unsurmountable like a fortress. You also are very well aware there is this one drawer, in My desk, under neath the little table for a snack, that tablet like drawer, and the one with the stationary equipment. That third drawer from the top.

That third drawer from the top, still above the files drawer at the bottom. To My left, closer to that dreaded table with the restraint over there. That third drawer, that harbors the rulers and a few, handy paddles, as well as one rolled up leather belt. You know that slightly shrieking swoosh that third drawer from the top makes, that unique sound, peculiar and if it were not opened for such sinister reasons, maybe even slightly amusing. But it is the third drawer from the top, the one where the bars of soap live, and the icy hot, the tiger balm, the thermometer, the vaseline, the medical gloves and the dried rice and dried peas, as well as the sealing equipment in its rosewood little chest.

Oh dont you know that third drawer from the top, and that is where your eyes stare into nothingness, every time you do dare lifting them from your feet. Oh #SpankieMonster is very aware, how you are even avoiding reading My bodylanguage, young lady. How every thought beyond the very moment sends shivers down your spine and erupts cramps in your tummy, of apprehension and that deep rooted wish to be anywhere but here and anytime but now.

I let you stand there, finishing My work. I dont speak a word. I dont give you any recognition for all of the minutes that are endless now. They dont fly by using the inernet or texting with freinds. They dont go unnoticed not one single of them. They are felt with all the heaviness they could possibly muster. All those minutes you had recklessly pushed your bedtime, like it was your choice. They drag their leaded feet in that desserted space, that is not even the comfy corner.

Yes, the corner would be horrible, but it would also be a recognition of your failing. While it is intimidating and dull, and making you feel vulnerable with your backside exposed to whatever may come, it also keeps your vital front side very protected. It allows you to focus and forces you to look ahead, or close your eyes and be present in the moment. That dreaded yet useful corner, with its dullness still would be so much better than standing here, with no cover, no-where to run and your face exposed with its every expression. It will like a traitor give away your true state of intimidation, discomfort or any left over defiance or arrogance. It will be like a work-sheet presentation producing all the data #SpankieMonster might need, without you even saying a word.

There is no corner to cradle your facial expressions, now that you stand exposed, in the middle of the Study, you stand like on a platter, before Me sitting behind My desk, My lap top screen, with My books and My note book and pad, and pens. I am seemingly sunk into My work using all those things that you had deemed more important than My rules and guidelines created and maintained to help you being well. The kindle, the cell phone, the social media now seem to have all My attention, while you stand there, exposed, tensed up, feeling the full weight of the time tab you had run up.

Now that the time has finally expired, now that you have been made to be still – even though admittedly not as comfortable as a bed would have been, we are ready to move on. Your defiance toward being comfy for the designated rest up time, on a soft, warm bed with blankets, pillows and sheets, possibly all your stuffed animal friends you had exchanged by your very failing to meet the bed time for this, much stricter rest up time. Maybe when presented with your bedtime you will start seeing it like the privilege it is and not like some punishment, since you have a better comparison now. To make sure you feel the discomfort you had brought upon yourself you are about to learn a lesson and learn it thoroughly you will.

I look up over My glasses. I look at you, young lady. My eyes are like diamond-covered drills that will not take any resistance from you. I clear My voice and it is thunder to your ears. I lift My left hand use My arm to rest My heavy head on it, the hand playing with My short beard, like I am sunken in a dream.

I start the lecture, to you, My girl and explain to you how much your well being means to Me. I let you know how much attentiveness, care and wisdom goes into the making and maintaining of the rules I am giving you to help you keeping yourself safe, and more to empower you to become successful in your life. I take all the time, and use the lengthy lecture to remind you that I dont do this as a pass time or to get my jollies out, but that I am in fact investing energy, time and effort into your well being, because I respect you very much more, than you do yourself, when you allow yourself to deviate from the path laid out for you.

I remind you with very choice words, that I have weighed carefully as so they convey exactly My sentiment and do not cause any undue harm, words selected to provide you with guidance and structure and help you shape the thoughts as well as resonate with those very emotions that are going to ease your betterment and enduce your (self) improvement in the future long after everything we have to deal with at this time is said and done. I let you know about that structure that now seems like binding and taking away some freedom but isnt nothing different than a safety rope, a parachute or seat-belt – and that the little discomfort will pass once you get used to their existance – but how much they will be a saving grace in case of challenge and adversity.

I am speaking calmly , and I need not raise My voice other but to emphasize the key words I want to be stuck with you after this lecture is over. I dont just deliver a speech. I also conjvey to you how your short coming is not just your personal problem. We are in this together. I have taken you under My wings, and am not just some coach at the side line, more so I am the warrior helping you with the fight in the war zone. I am on the battle ground with you, getting dirty, and your short-comings arent just painful and potentially crippling to you, it pains Me to see you suffer needlessly, when the cure to whatever tripedation you are fighting is at arms reach. Every time you ignore My guidelines, My guidance and are in defiance with My genuine love, care and attention, you are not just putting yourself in harms way, but at the same time one of My protected ones. And I will not be standing idly by, when you harm one of Mine.

I lean back into My heavy office leather chair, but My lips do not smile. My hand in that same maze of a dream like state grabs the pull handle of the third drawer from the top and slides it open, with that slightly shrieky swoosh the thing makes. That peculiar almost amusing estranged sound that now resembles more a sirene. That has you alert and tensed up, even trembling. Had you wished to be elsewhere before you are praying the earth would swallow you whole about right now, but evidently earth wont do you that favor.

My left hand dives into the drawer and produces 4 implements all of which you are not fond of. I walk over the few steps to that less massive, more dreaded punishment table, and arrange it, setting the table and mood for the thorough repentance to come.

(to be continued)

#SpankieMonster #StrictMotivation (c)2017 StrictMotivation@yahoo.com



#go2bed 161214

no more “in 5 minutes” because they are not need’. just #go2bed you need your little sleep, the clock has just said, you know it is right, for #SpankieMonster patrols, in the shadows of the night #StrictMotivation



The Princess and the Hydration #StrictMotivation


Once upon a time, in a land behind seven hills and seven seas, there lived a little princess. She was fair and lovely and wonderful. She loved to pick flowers, she loved to color and giggle and she loved all animals, living and stuffies. Like every princess she had trouble remembering all the rules. Why did they have to make all them stupid rules anyway? Dio this, do that, dont do this, dont do that – who is to remeber what to do and what not to do and keep them apart!

One of the princess’ standing orders was to keep hydrated. Well that must be the most stupid rule in the history of the books of rules. If you keep drinking all the water, you will surely swim away. Then they will call you princess duckie or princess hippopotamus, and if worst comes to worserest, you will pee your princess panties, because the water you put in, in the worst moments evar wants to come out. big pout


The princess therefore knew, this rule certainly had to be one of those rules, where the great rulemaker called Sir Meaner must have had erred. He wanted to write “do not drink all the water” certainly, and just forgot that “not” word. How would anyone even think a princess would be able to drink and drink water and not turn into a fish, or worse PrincessPotty!

And so the princess did not drink enough. She didnt meet what in that land where she lived was called “Minimum drinking requirement”


She crossed her arms before her princess chest and broke the sweetest pout so cute, even the sun hid behind a cloud! Now that Sir Meaner must be cray, that is what i say, because only by mean experiment you’d come up with an ugly name like MINIMUM DRINKING REQUIREMENT and to make the point be even more good, the little princess stomped her foot

The earth did quake, the clouds got more. The princess was beturbed. Bunnies, why are you running away?! It is not bed time, just the middle of the day! she protested, but all the bunnies ran away, quickly seeking their homes, and pulled the covers over their heads, in their beds, down in their earth holes.


That was strange. The princess, walked on, not minding the darkness now falling , and the sun hiding. Maybe just a summer storm, nothing to be too afraid. She thought by herself, and lets face it: she was quite brave

She walked past a bee-hive, where all the bees quickly tried to get inside. “Oh lil bees, have you some honey for me?” she asked chirpily. “Bzzzz bzzzzzz bzzzzzzs bzzmzzz bzzz bzzzzzzzzzzzzz! the bees said in unison and quickly hid in the hive. In bee’s language that was a cryptic massage. Something about some monster, that had been called, and to better be good or getting taught!


The princess looked in the sky, and the sun was not to be seen, and the dark clouds frowned and threatened rain. This is so unfair! Even more water! The wells will over-flow and I hate hate hate that! she said, pouted harder and stomped her foot again. She would just go hide in the forest, the trees and bushes would make for an umbrella

The little mushroom, by the trees root looked at her. Princess, it whispered. You should really not be in the forest, with what is coming. There will be a Storm Massively!

thats plain stupid! she protested, enraged and stomped her foot a third time. The tree she hid under, it was a young birch looked at her and scolded. young lady, if I were you I d not stomp that foot a fourth time, not with what you are bringing upon yourself But the princess was now angry for real. Not enough she would get soaking wet from that stupid rain coming down, in heavy wet drops, not enough she had too many rules to follow that made no sense. Her animal friends had abandoned her, and now even the plants in her beloved forest started being meaniepants!. I ll stomp my foot all day and all I wanna! she shouted and stomped again and again and again.


Out of no-where SpankieMonster appeared. It grabbed the poor PoutyPrincess, by her royal ear and pulled it with so much force, she thought she’d pass out. ow ow ow! she protested in vain, but oh goodness, no, what was SpankieMonsters game?

He flipped the princess, all over his knee, and no time later her panties were seen!
He had just flipped up her little skirt, no matter how much she stomped her feet, into the dirt

He shifted her weight, and the feet kicked the air, but that was not all SpankeMonster wanted to share


She got a scolding, about being defiant
told off in great length
she should be just compliant
and if the tedious words
were not bad enough

Spanke Monster yanked down
her panties all rough

The shroomies and trees tried to hide their eyes
but all the world heard the poor girls cries
as SpankieMonster paddled her butt
painting painful rainbows, onto there a lot

Spanked the poor princess’ both lovely cheeks
had her cry water in creeks of hot tears
paddling her buttocks, paddling her thighs
until she was redeemed
in SpankeMonster’s eyes

Then she was marched
held by her arm
and let me tell you
it was a sight with no charm


out through the forest
by the hive of the bees
where queen bee mom said
“girls: that’s why, better well behaved be!”

marched her on the field,
with bunnies all shocked
taught by their parents
‘misbehave not!’

marched to the fortress
and its overfilled wells
bent over the wall there
exposed were her welts

On top of her bum
now soaked by the rain
SpankieMonster took a bar
of soap – to add pain

And rubbed it all in
ungently without rush
using the bristles
of a heavy bath-brush


and as you can imagine
I know thats a shock
making foamy bubbles
would not be where it stopped

the day went from bad
to worse and worse still
as the bath-brush did dance
by SpankieMonster’s will

and taught the little princess
a message to be taught
Sir Meaners rules you better
be breaking not!


sleep tied
on your tummy tonight

# SpankieMonster  

(c) 2016 StrictMotivation@yahoo.com


Need help? get help:  you cannot afford to miss out! Strict Motivation offers help reaching your worthy life goals, through working, goal oriented real life coaching, Easily affordable. (rates starting at USD 20$) Strict Motivation is created to work Long Distance, from the convenience of your home and tailored to your specific needs, including as much discretion as you desire & with no obligation for you to veer demean yourself let alone on web-cam! For consenting adults of any gender identity or age. Strict Motivation is a holistic step by step approach. My Successrate with willing people tops 90%. no tricks, just get better with #StrictMotivation