FIRST REPORT ON MY PUNISHMENT
from Siobhan

Dear Mistress Helga,

As this is my first progress report on serving of my punishments for misbehaviour I would like to first thank you for overseeing my disciplining for my selfish, useless, immature, ineffectual and childish behaviour. As I know you may wish to use this report further I will first summarise the acts of misbehaviour for which I am rightly being punished.
  1. ) Thoughtlessly failing to consider the personal position of yourself in the given situation at that time
  2. ) Wasting your valuable time.
  3. ) Showing a lack of independence and maturity in implementing your recommendations for the punishment of another offender
  4. ) Failing to provide options for the offender’s punishment as she continued to misbehave
  5. ) Allowing the offender’s misbehaviour to go unpunished due to my incompetence
  6. ) Selfishly and immaturely trying to misuse the situation to deal with issues I should have dealt with previously myself
I am fortunate that you spent your valuable time and experience to both consider my multiple offences committed in a short period of time and assign punishments to me which I have now begun to serve:
*First punishment period to last a minimum of twelve weeks...
  • Under supervision purchase charity shop clothing including underwear. Clothing should ideally be worn and used. It should consist of woollen dresses, skirts and cardigans of as dowdy a nature as possible together with woollen hats and mittens.
  • Wear these items including a minimum of two cardigans at all times including in public and at work.
  • At home remain in my room without electronic devices and only a Bible to read unless helping with activities specified by my sister.
  • Receive twelve strokes of the strap to my bare behind.
  • Write a full and detailed letter of apology to you on my misbehaviour and the punishments I am to serve which you may publish publically if you so wish to further my humiliation
*To be followed by a second punishment period to last a minimum of sixteen weeks...
  • Under supervision purchase three sets of schoolgirl clothing consisting of blouse, tie, pinafore dress, knee socks, school panties, vest, school shoes with straps and school cardigan.
  • Wear a full set of uniform at all times including in public and at work.
  • I may remove the tie when not at home but must keep my top button done up.
  • Spend one hour every day serving corner time with my hands on my head.
  • Write one hundred lines every day on some aspect of my punishment.
  • Grounded at home except for going to work, charity work or Church attendance and cleaning rota.
  • Early bed times of at latest 20:00 on week days and 19:00 Saturday and Sunday unless I am working.
  • Volunteer for and complete a minimum of ten hours per week of menial charity work for others less privileged than myself such as cleaning, laundry or kitchen work at a home.
  • Mouth washed with soap twice per week.
  • Receive a bare bottom spanking, a slippering across my bare behind and six stokes of the cane to my bare behind during each week of this second punishment period.
In addition I will provide to you a written update of my punishment and learning every 4 weeks which you may use in public, if you so decide, as learning for others and a further humiliation for me.

I began serving my first period of punishment on December 16, 2018. The first punishment which I received was my caning which my sister performed as you requested. At this point, just under three weeks ago, I had not purchased the charity shop clothing which you specified so I was still dressed normally. Despite this it was a horrible moment of realization for me that I was no longer talking about being punished but that I was to deservedly feel the consequences of my failings. My sister made me stand in the kitchen with my hands by my sides and told me I was to be caned and that I was to count each stroke after application. I was last caned by my mother five years ago but this long period had not made me forget how humiliating and painful a caning is. I was told to pull up my skirt and then bend over and place my fingertips on the toes of my shoes and keep them in that position until my caning was complete.

Despite knowing that I would be caned across my bare behind it was a moment of deep humiliation, fixed in this position to have my sister insert her fingers into the waistband of my panties and allow them to drop to my ankles. My caning was then started and I counted each stroke as it was applied. The first stroke brought back to me immediately the sheer pain and why I should behave in a manner which avoided the need for me to be punished in this way. I struggled to control myself but tried hard to do so such that I was not reduced to an infant cry baby as I have seen others to be. However by the sixth stroke I could contain the suffering no longer and I began to sob and cry. I continued to count each stroke and beg to be forgiven. My sister, of course, ignored my pitiful requests for undeserved mercy and completed my allocation.

I was left bent over for a couple of minutes before being told to stand with my arms and hands firmly by my sides. Stood up I am sure I looked, as I felt, very much the young girl who had just realised she was not quite so smart or tough as she thought. The humiliation of standing with my panties around my ankles, my privates on display, my skirt pulled up, my nose running and tears still falling down my cheeks was deeply shaming. My sister ensured I had time to gather the full learning as she sent me waddling to the corner, panties around my ankles, telling me to stand with my arms firmly by my sides and nose firmly pressed to the wall. She made me stand there for probably 40 or 45 minutes before allowing me to pull up my panties and pulling down my skirt. I was thankful to have to go to my room for the rest of the day but my sister went with me and ensured I handed over my laptop, phone, magazines and books leaving me only The Bible. I spent some time laid on my bed allowing my caned backside to recover from the corporal punishment I had received.

The next day, December 17th, under my sister's supervision, we went to a local warehouse for a charity who I was able to make contact with via colleagues at the hospital. This provided the opportunity to be able, for a donation, to get access to the types of clothing you specified I must wear for the next twelve weeks as part of my punishment. Although the charity does receive a lot of second hand underwear they do not resell this in the UK and although they do resell some woollen garments you had, deservedly, specified I should be dressed in dowdy and worn clothing which they would not typically sell.

It was a sobering experience for me as my sister specified, from the piles of used clothing in the warehouse, what I should choose knowing it is what I would be wearing and have to appear in public in during the coming weeks. The fact that some of it was clearly soiled and unwashed merely added to my feeling of personal degradation as a result of my own poor behaviour. I had dressed in jeans and a couple of tops and my coat as my friend at the hospital had told me the warehouse was cold. However my sister did not allow me to use this as an excuse to not try on at least the dresses, skirts and cardigans you specified I must wear, with my coat and fleece removed, over my T shirt and jeans and in front one of the ladies who helps run the warehouse. She was careful to ensure the items were generally a bit too large for me and certainly easily identifiable as very worn.

From this process she selected the following outer garment items for me to wear over the first part of my punishment:
  • Brown long sleeved knee length wool dress with a border at the hem, neck and wrists of cream with a small pattern in. The elbows are worn thin from wear.
  • Pale blue below knee length hand knitted wool dress with a polo neck
  • A long pleated green, blue and yellow tartan buttoned skirt with a frayed hem
  • A plain grey wool long sleeved crew neck sweater with a brown stain on the front and holes in the elbows
  • Knee length baggy V-neck patterned wool mainly green cardigan
  • Below knee length crew neck sloppy navy and green patterned cardigan
  • A ribbed navy wool wrap over cardigan
  • A grey arran wool cardigan with a collar and cuffs. One of the front pockets was ripped and hanging off and it had yellow-brown sweat stains under the arms.
  • Thick knitted brown wool cardigan reaching to my knees with a collar, buttons missing and knitted wool belt
In addition as per your direction she selected for me a beige woollen pom-pom hat and mittens. My sister said I should not have too many items to choose from as having a wide selection of clothing is a privilege. In addition if you decided I needed anything specific to wear which we did not get then it would be a further lesson to be told by you what I must wear and to have to return to the warehouse to get it.

My sister made me sort through huge sacks of used panties to select out a dozen pairs suitable for my punishment clothing. It was demeaning to be kneeling on the concrete floor of the warehouse spreading out pair after pair of used panties whilst my sister stood over me rejecting and selecting from the array I had placed out. As a minimum they were full sized and in some case reached well down my legs. They are all nylon, obviously previously worn from the combination of worn material, torn seams and in some cases marked soiling. It was completely degrading having to do this in a cold warehouse even before the later humiliation of actually having to wear these items. They are a combination of beige, lemon, pale green and grey (rather than white from wear and washing).

This was followed by searching through further sacks to find myself a dozen nylon vests. My sister insisted they should not be tight fitting and must have thick shoulder straps. I was not to be permitted the privilege and comfort of wearing a bra as part of my clothing discipline which you had imposed. It was a further imposition I had failed to realise was to be part of my punishment. I reflected that this lack of attention was one of the reasons I had failed to behave adequately. Again I ended with beige, off white and pale green vests all of which showed signs of wear. In some cases even after washing they still have yellow stains under the arms from prolonged sweating and others have holes in them.

My sister says she thought that I should not be wearing sheer stockings as part of my punishment clothing and that we should find some knee socks if they had any available at the charity warehouse. As you can imagine, as with underwear, cast off hosiery is normally sold for rags. I ended up on my knees on the warehouse floor trying to find pairs of knee socks from bags I had emptied whilst my sister directed my activity. Eventually I obtained three pairs of woollen knee socks and half a dozen other ribbed knee socks in grey, navy and brown.

I paid a generous donation to the Charity and I brought home the clothing you have confined me to for twelve weeks. As with my caning it was a horrible moment as it dawned that I was to suffer the discomfort and humiliation of being dressed in second hand and dowdy clothing.

On my return home I went to my room and stripped. I took off my fleece, tight fighting black T-shirt, brown black ankle boots, black jeans, socks, my crimson red lace bra and matching thong. I placed them in a pile to be washed and carefully selected from the charity clothing some items which were not too obviously soiled to wear immediately.

I gulped as I pulled a pair of beige nylon panties up and straightened the seams around my legs to find the entirety of my behind and the tops of my thighs covered by the large panties. Next I pulled on a beige nylon vest, as I pulled it over my head, I smelt an unpleasant damp odour. I pulled it back over my head and reached for a different vest and then another only to find that they all had the same smell – presumably from being stuck festering, sealed in a plastic sack, in the cold warehouse. I went back to my original choice and pulled it over my head. It hung from my shoulders and ended swinging loosely over the top of the waistband of my panties. I selected a pair of ribbed brown knee socks and pulled them on. Both socks had holes at the toes and I could see my skin through the heel of the right sock.

I looked at my crimson laced bra and thong in the pile on the floor and hung my head as I thought of my feckless behaviour which meant I no longer deserved the privilege of wearing them but that for the next 12 weeks the worn and unfashionable undergarments I was now wearing were my deserved fate. Next I picked up the brown wool dress and pulled it over my head and slipped my arms into the sleeves allowing it to fall with the hem at my knees. It is a bit too big for me but my sister had said that would help me look dowdier as required by your punishment specification. The wool rubbed uncomfortably on my arms and thighs and I took some solace that at least the uncomfortable and soiled nylon panties and vest were sparing me from having to endure wool rubbing against the more sensitive parts of my body.

Finally to complete my outfit I picked up a baggy V-neck wool cardigan with a green coloured pattern and pulled the sleeves over my arms so that it was left hanging open reaching down to my knees. This was a moment of complete despair for me. You were not to be aware when specifying my punishment but I hate wearing cardigans of any sort and when I saw this in the list of sanctions I was despairing. This stems from being confined to my school uniform at weekends and during school holidays as a punishment for misbehaving under achieving at school. It was such a humiliation to appear before my school friends and in public at Mass dressed in my uniform which always included an unstylish wool cardigan with the emblem of my Catholic Girls School embossed on the breast to leave no one seeing you of your position of being punished. I have not worn a cardigan since being last being made to wear my old school cardigans as a punishment imposed by my parents. I am not sure how long I stood crying as I struggled to accept that despite my misbehaviour I deserved a punishment and humiliation as severe as this.

Eventually I pulled myself together and buttoned the cardigan up so it was not hanging in such a humiliating manner. To complete my clothing humiliation I retrieved the oversized below knee length crew neck navy and green patterned cardigan my sister had selected at the warehouse and eventually pulled it on over the first cardigan. It hung off my shoulders and the open front swung around my knees. I cried again at the ignominy of having to wear not one but two cardigans both of them ill-fitting and unwashed cast offs. Eventually I buttoned it up to minimize it flopping against my dress and making me look even plainer and dowdier and I was left standing dressed as required by the punishment you have set me. It took me a while sat on my bed to come to terms with my situation and when I thought that after twelve weeks I will find myself in a school cardigan and uniform, I was angry at the stupidity of my own misbehaviour. After supper and having put my own clothes and the rest of the charity shop clothing, except for a spare pair of panties, vest and socks for work next day, in the laundry I returned to my room.

Without any electronic devices or reading material I spent a couple of hours coming to terms with my new clothing. It was not just unstylish but horrible to wear. The soiled nature of the clothing made my skin creep and when I forced myself to look in the mirror I saw how dowdy and sloppy I looked even with the cardigans fully buttoned. I tried unbuttoning the cardigans but this only made me look even worse by revealing my wool dress and reinforcing its presence as the open cardigans flopped to and fro forcing the itchy wool repeatedly against my skin. When I looked in my wardrobes at my own clothing it drove home to me what I would be doing without as a result of my misbehaviour. It was a relief to eventually be able to strip and bathe before putting on my cotton pyjamas. They did not rub and irritate my behind, still striated from my caning the previous day, like the worn nylon panties. Eventually, quite early, I was able to go to sleep without the hindrance of any clothing.

The next day I had to go to work in A&E and I dressed in another pair of unwashed beige nylon panties, a matching vest and brown knee socks, brown wool dress and the two long wool cardigans. I was very self-conscious of how I looked but as I was starting early in the morning I was able to get into the hospital and change into my scrubs. I need to wear these for medical reasons although of course I am still wearing my cast-off underwear at all times. When I came off shift I was dressed back into my wool dress as one of my female colleagues arrived. I felt quite nervous of how I looked but she said nothing and although I hate wearing a wool dress other women do and perhaps she thought the somewhat old styling was a fashion choice I had made. However as she saw me then pull on not only one but two baggy plain cardigans she said, “I must feel the cold”. I mumbled a reply and left quickly embarrassed at how I looked.

That evening I went to Mass dressed in the same way and sat at the back of the Church to avoid being seen in my dowdy clothing by as many people as possible. The humiliation of being dressed in this way was enforcing the weak and unassertive nature I demonstrated in my misbehaviour. I felt really uncomfortable in this position but it demonstrated that the punishment you have imposed will force me to endure for several weeks what I will face if I continue to be a pushover.

The next day to work I had the improvement of wearing charity clothing which had at least been washed. As on every day when I am dressing the experience continued to be degrading and humiliating. Standing in my room with all of my casual, smart, fashionable and stylish clothing in my wardrobes I chose a pair of pale green nylon panties in which the material was so worn I could see through it and a matching nylon vest with an unstitched seam which hung off me. I pulled on a pair of green wool knee socks before picking up the grey wool sweater. Despite being washed it still had the brown stain on its front and I consoled myself with the thought that it would not be visible beneath the two cardigans I must wear. I stepped into the pleated tartan skirt which reached to only two or three inches above my ankles. It looked even worse than when I had tried it over my trousers in the warehouse. I would never wear a long skirt like this normally and I realised that any of my friends or colleagues who saw me dressed like this would notice straight away. The only thing in its favour was although somewhat frayed it does have a polyester lining to just below the knees which at least limits the contact of the wool with my skin. To complete my outfit of shame I pulled on the ribbed navy wool wrap over cardigan and buttoned it in place before pulling on over it a grey Arran wool cardigan. At least these cardigans did not reach to my knees but the thick Arran cardigan still reached down to just above my knees because it was too big and its weight ensured that the itchy wool of my sweater was held tight to my skin.

It was horrible and reminded me that I was being punished which means discomfort and pain as well as humiliation. I tried to comfort myself that even though it is very uncomfortable without a bra at least the loose nylon vest prevented the wool of sweater rubbing over my whole torso. When I arrived to work and went to get changed into my scrubs I met one of my girlfriends in the changing room. If the long tartan skirt was not enough then the sight of the grey shapeless cardigan with one of the front pockets hanging off was enough to cause her to ask me about my change of style. I felt ashamed of myself and how my failure to behave like a mature adult meant that I deserved to appear dressed like this in front of my colleague. I told her I was going without my usual privileged dress as a charitable act to recognize others not as fortunate as myself. Luckily we were both rushing to get into our scrubs and into action so there was no further conversation. I hated that I had lied but felt that the humiliation I endured as I stood there in front of her was at least, in part, the punishment my dress discipline was meant to inflict upon me.

On Thursday evening I was not at work and was able to go to Church to take my turn on the Church cleaning rota. I dressed in my brown woollen dress and the two long baggy cardigans. I felt dressed appropriately as I cleaned the toilets in the Church rooms and scrubbed the kitchen floor on my hands and knees. I am serving penance and as I knelt on the floor with my cloth and bucket whilst one of the older ladies reminded me in a condescending manner not to forget to clean behind the cooker I was in my deserved place for what I have done wrong. Clothed in cast off unstylish nylon underwear and second hand baggy knitted woollen cardigans, on my knees doing menial labour and being directed what to do like a skivvy it was a humbling experience. I would like to thank you for ensuring I have been given this opportunity to be punished in a humiliating and deserved manner. After completing my cleaning I spent a further half hour in the Church on my knees completing the Hail Mary's I had been given as penance at confession.

Over Christmas I worked several night shifts which has kept me busy. I wore the light blue polo neck wool dress together with either the two long baggy cardigans or the navy wrap around cardigan and grey Arran cardigan. The grey arran cardigan, despite being laundered, has some permanent yellow stains under the arms so even though the pocket has been repaired I am very self-conscious about keeping my arms down by my sides when I am wearing it so that its dirty state is not visible to others. This means I am standing like a naughty child in front of their parent or teacher when I talk to anyone and this makes me very self-conscious and attentive to them. Not taking notice of what others say and acting upon it is clearly one of my many shortcomings so being dressed in this manner both humiliates me and also makes me behave more submissively towards others which is a learning I need reinforced.

When I have not been at work I have spent many hours confined to my bedroom, dressed in my woolens, reading The Bible and reflecting on my selfish and immature behaviour which means I must serve the punishments you have assigned. This has helped me to understand that there is no one to blame for what happened but myself. I hope that recognizing this demonstrates I am on the road to improvement.

The confinement to worn panties, vest, socks and wool dresses and skirts and cardigans is a very sobering experience for me. I cannot think of anything worse for me (perhaps than the clothing punishment which still awaits me in the second phase of my punishment) to suffer as punishment. The humiliation I feel is more than the loss of autonomy of being able to choose what I wear, which as a young woman is intense. In addition I would frequently wear trousers and if a dress or skirt always something relatively short. Being confined to long woollen dresses and skirts is a lesson to me of what women must have felt like. As a feminist to be forced into frumpy old fashioned women's clothing is a further lesson. It is of course what I deserve as my behaviour had been not only shaming for myself but is exactly the type of weak behaviour which undermines the cause of feminism. It is right that as I have not behaved as strong responsible woman should I should be forced to dress in dresses and cardigans. Every day as I pull on my clothing I am reminded of the shameful way in which my actions have undermined the very things I espouse. It is right that as someone who has “not walked the talk” should be made to live in the manner she hates – being told what she must do, focused on repetitive menial work and told to dress in an old fashioned female manner in cast off clothing. My only relief in this is when I am able to wear my scrubs, which have trousers, at work, my cotton pyjamas at home before going to bed and to be able to sleep naked. Before I get into bed my sister has insisted, quite correctly, that I must wear two cardigans over my pyjamas.

Just after Christmas I admitted fully to another woman at Church why I am dressed in such shabby and frumpy clothes. She had asked me directly why I was dressed as I was and I could find no way, without lying directly, to avoid answering her question directly. As I did so I could feel myself turning red with embarrassment and I bowed my head to try and avoid eye contact. She said that she thought it was serious penance but she understood what I had felt it necessary based on my description of my thoughtless and immature behaviour towards others. I thanked her for allowing me to share my situation and she ensured, I am not sure deliberately, that I was made to feel like a child by saying she would ensure that I got plenty of the most menial cleaning duties, she would ask the other ladies who organized the rota to do the same and that perhaps it would help me if I were to address her as Mrs. McMillan until I had served my penance. I was so flustered by being treated like a schoolchild that I found myself standing in front of her with my head bowed mumbling, “Yes Mrs. McMillan of course, thank-you”.

She has clearly since shared our conversation with the other ladies who organise the cleaning rota and other church activities so that I am no longer able to discreetly enter and leave the Church for Mass. Instead I have to enter conversations where they ask me how I am doing with my penance, they comment on my woollen clothing and I have to reply respectfully to them all whilst they address me by my Christian name. On Sunday I wished the ground could have swallowed me up. I was wearing my long tartan dress, grey wool sweater, grey arran cardigan and my long thick brown cardigan belted around me together my beige wool pom-pom hat and mittens and I was stopped by Mrs. McMillan as I was entering the Church and, for what was probably no more than two minutes but felt like hours, in turn introduced to many of her friends and had to explain myself as well as having everyone else from the congregation seeing me as they entered the Church. She could see I was almost in tears as finally we made our way into the Church but she told me it was what I had said I needed so I must learn from it. I agreed and thanked her however as I was about to remove my hat she said as a woman I should keep it on in Mass and so to make me stand out even more I spent the whole service with my beige wool hat on my head which made me feel uncomfortable even if others did not find it odd.

I know that in the coming weeks I may face having to admit the full truth of my awful behaviour and the resulting punishments I am serving to others including colleagues and my friends. I am of course avoiding any leisure activities with my friends because of my dress discipline. I am sure my strong confident female friends will be disgusted by my poor behaviour and pitiless in their attitude to me and my male friends would find me a laughing stock. This isolation is a further lesson of the consequences for me of my weak and feckless behaviour. I have spent time in my room in my cast off undergarments and woollens which shows me my arrogant behaviour is not acceptable and that I must bear the humiliating restrictions and controls which behaving like a child require.

I remain thankful to you for agreeing to deal with me as I would have found it difficult to set such sanctions for myself. I know that I deserve them and I do not seek any lenience. I hope very much that this piece demonstrates I am suffering as I should whilst being punished and am gathering learning. I know that if I do not meet the standards you require that you will apply further punishment as necessary. I pray that you find my behaviour to date acceptable and that I am learning my lessons for my selfish, thoughtless, childish and immature acts of misbehaviour.

I hope this report meets your expectation in terms of content, presentation and grammar. I will provide further revisions as you deem necessary and if you find it below the standard you expect punishment as you feel necessary.

Yours obediently,
Naughty girl Siobhan
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