Introducing the Punishment Panties

I alluded to this in my first post, but an evolving bit of relationship culture between he and I is this joking about punishment panties.  During the longest period of orgasm denial to date, I got the following request (probably based on some poor behavior on my part):

I’d like you to become more embarrassed about how you smell.   Until further notice, please re-wear today’s panties.  Furthermore, leave these panties on whenever you masturbate.

Because there is a lot of obsessive record keeping over here – this request was on May 2nd.  That date is important to mention because those panties…still haven’t been washed.  Thus, the name punishment panties was born.

They are now a pretty regular part of my discipline.  When I make mistakes I sometimes have to drag out to the punishment panties.  If I just can’t bring myself to wear them – I am of course allowed not to wear any panties at all.

This is all very fresh in my mind because I have a task I keep failing at – so this week has been a lot of punishment panties or no panties at all.  In fact, I’m wearing these panties right now (the photo below is from this morning).

There is a lot more to say about how these panties have been appearing in my life over the last couple months, but let me add a bit of commentary that needs to be in the intro.

Yes, for the record, these panties are in a terrible state.  I’ve worn them way more than any sane person should, cum in them, gotten blood on them, and the closest I’ve come to actually washing them was that time I peed all over them.   All of those are good stories, but indulge me for a bit to talk about the concept.

I am, at my most honest, sort of in love with the punishment panties.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I hate them.  More often than not when they are envoked I opt to just go without any underwear at all, for reasons that go without saying I hope.  But, their evolving place in my dialogues with him is a great artifact of this part of our relationship.  It is the kink version of, “he kissed my cheek I’ll never wash it again.”  Romance is alive and well in a pair of panties that hasn’t been washed in two months.

And of course, the theme of my making the choice to debase myself in this particular way is…the sexiest.

Although recently he and I were discussing that their deterrent value seems to be going down – so I shudder to think what will happen to them next (or what their substitute might be).