The Punishment Book

Submitting to Correction

Those of you who follow my blogging in other places (el tercer ojo and my new calligraphy blog) will know that I'm presently taking a calligraphy class studying the Gothic hand.  The mixed ability (some students have been studying calligraphy for years -- others like me are taking their first class) class meets once a week for three hours.  

Like most art classes, the teaching style is very structured. Anyone who imagines that most art courses are about creative free expression hasn't taken many.  This is even more true of calligraphy, and within calligraphy, with learning a historical hand.  While there is a vague sense other ways might exist, my instructor only wants to see one way -- the way she's teaching us.  As we're learning a medieval hand, the teacher also tends to mention life of early scribes and student scribes and their floggings.  This, of course, prompted me to do a little burst of research to discover what a "palmer" might look like (see links for the images I found).  

At the second class meeting I was delighted to discover that our homework was being collected.  When I got home, Paul was pleased for me too, especially when I told him it would be turned back marked. The following week my homework was returned, with red inked corrections, at class a week ago Monday.  Not all the comments were positive, as you can see in the included images. In fact, except for a closing "Good Work," every red mark was negative (or constructive criticism as I believe they say in the biz).  While I blushed to see my mistakes circled, it was great they weren't being glossed over with a banal "Good Effort" or the like.

Last week I was actually called out a bit in class for not having practiced more during the previous week (it was not a lack of desire, but sadly other unavoidable demands on my time). Nonetheless I felt totally abashed at her slight disappointment, but again also thrilled because she'd noticed and thought it worthy of remark. I made no excuses for my lack of practice but simply promised to do better during the two weeks we have between classes due to various holidays.

Tears at Bedtime

What Happened: I got spanked at bedtime last night.  It wasn't especially hard (a bare-bottom, over the knee hand spanking) but it included scolding (I had stayed up later than I was supposed to, even after being reminded to go to bed) and went on long enough to hurt.  Not a lot, not like a hairbrushing, but enough so I started feeling very sorry (okay, mostly for myself rather than my actions) and telling, then begging Paul to stop.  

That doesn't work.  As I was reminded, I don't get to decide, just as it wasn't for me to decide that I didn't want this spanking.  I hadn't wanted it either -- by the time he took me otk, I was tired, even over-tired, and wanted to go sleep.  Plus it was late enough and quiet enough that I thought the spanking could be heard from the street.  Our window, you see, was open because I hadn't expected this. 

Then it happened, and not for the first time. My whiny frustration at not being able to get away, at the spanking that continued and I wanted stopped, at not ever feeling like there was enough time for anything rushed together with the frustrations of the day and guilt at being scolded and for ignoring Paul, I burst into racking sobs.

Technologies of Punishment: Mija's Electronic Leash

Technologies of Punishment --isn't that a great title? I can't claim any originality since it's inspired by a CFP (that's "Call For Papers" in the larger world) for a CUNY conference titled "The Poetics of Pain: Aesthetics, Ideology, and Representation" sent to my academic self. (I blogged this startle on el tercer ojo.) But it is an appropriate title. Given that we met via the wonders of usenet, technology, for better or worse, has been involved in Paul and my relationship, discipline and punishment included, since the beginning. Although some of the technology thankfully went away when our relationship went from long-distance to living-in-the-same-house, technology remains a significant part of both of our lives.

This is not going to be a discussion of how technology can assist those in long-distance relationships at "this thing we do." While it doesn't seem so long ago that most of my punishments were done via email or phone, really it's been more than seven years since Paul moved here, give or take an interruption or two. I think that counts as several lifetimes in the word of technology. Because of that, this probably isn't the right entry for anyone looking for long-distance discipline ideas. (Natty can probably give plenty of thoughts on that subject, but rumor has it she's a bit busy at present.) That said, ever since I got a new MacBook compete with webcam, I check in terror to make sure the green camera light isn't on every time Paul has me bent over my desk chair for a quick slippering to "focus" me on my work. This is crazy because I never actually use the webcam for anything so it's never on. **

Even though phones, webcams and Skype aren't part of discipline or punishment scenes and we're not long-distance anymore, technology in various forms plays an important role in our relationship. A role, which for me, has lately made me feel watched over in ways that, frankly, push a lot of good and powerful buttons. What works, both in the senses of being effective and attractive, is feeling I'm being watched over and held to specific expectations. The idea is that I'm seen --inside and out-- by someone who can't be fooled and holds me to account. That's both the fantasy and the ideal.

Not much to ask, is it?

Right.

It's a huge amount to ask of anyone and a near impossible task, especially with regard to me specifically. Yet I have asked for it and Paul and I have tried various ways of fulfilling this need / desire. Repeatedly, over a period of years.

Love Our Lurkers IV

Beloved and community minded Bonnie, over at My Bottom Smarts gives us a chance each year to remember we're not talking to ourselves -- that you're here reading too. And we all know that for every comment to the blog, there are hundreds of visitors who don't comment. We know you're there and it's always good to know there are readers, whether you choose to comment or not.  Yet it's so much more fun to write for a blog where there's lively discussion.

I know this blog has been quiet lately. This is partly due to many of us blogging elsewhere (see the list of our other blogs over to the right). It's also due to the PB blog having become less of a place to discuss the idea of punishment in a relationships and more of a place to record actual punishments received.  (Believe it or not, that we'd record our punishments here never occurred to me when we were first building the blog.)  Since most of us aren't punished very often, there ends up being long gaps between entries. Add to that my neglect in not realizing sooner that postings here were tapering off.

And yet you're still reading here -- even when the PB goes weeks and even months without new entries, our stats tell us that hundreds of people visit every day. So this is what I want to ask of you today -- keeping in mind the style of the blog (that is, this isn't going to suddenly become a place full of pictures of spanked bottoms, lovely though they might be and that we can't write about punishments that aren't happening -- give us some thoughts about what you'd like to find when you come here. What discussions would be useful or interesting?

Thank you in advance for your ideas. And as always, thank you for reading.

Fear and Tawsing in Los Angeles

I got tawsed tonight.  Not for discipline, not to remind me to be a good girl, but as a punishment for not doing what I'd promised to do today.  You see, after a week of cruising along, doing more work than I'd even needed to some days (this included working after coming home from a day working on campus), I was supposed to transition to the next stage of my work. This next stage is writing.  Not writing ideas of others, but laying out my own. 

Fear stalled me. Not fear of punishment, as some out there who don't think What It Is We Do is a good for me, but my ever-present fear of not being good enough. 

Instead of fighting through my fear and forcing myself to work, I let myself get caught up in the fun of the first day of fall on Twitter and the Mad4Plaid day some of us were having. (It was great fun, marred only by the gnawing guilt I occasionally (but only occasionally) experienced as thoughts of my neglected text passed through my mind. There was time for both, but I didn't want to do the work and it didn't get done.

That was all well and good until the clock chimed 6:00PM and Paul got home.  I looked like a good school girl in my plaid skirt and a pink oxford cloth shirt, but it quickly became clear as we talked about our respective days that I'd accomplished no school work today.  Paul spent a while talking to me, figuring out where the problem was.  It wasn't just, as I first declared, that I didn't do my work today. It was partly because I hadn't thought about what I'd promised (an outline) and had no idea where to start work on the task.

We broke the problem down, bit by bit, teasing out what was insecurity and what was confusion.  And of course, the over arching issue of why I'd stopped dead rather than try and work through any of it. The talk was exhausting -- any criticism of my academic work makes me defensive and cranky.  I know Paul must have to put on his best armor to talk to me about it.  We ended up curled up together on the sofa, my head in his lap.

And then he said something along the lines of "I think we need to go into the bedroom and talk about this."

Spring Break, 2009

On Monday I wrote a post here which included the statement

I'm at a critical stage in my life as a PhD. student. You'll hear more about it as the weeks go on, but this is the basic situation. Six to twelve months of productive work on my part, and it's very likely I'll finish my degree well and will be able to land a research and teaching job. Without the hard work, it's likely in 12 months I'll be looking at leaving graduate school without completing my degree.

At the time I wrote that, I'd done a little spade work which included several meetings with my advisor, an assessment of what I've already written (140 pages, maybe half of which is good enough to end up in the final document), started learning EndNote and using it to compile a library / bibliography. Oh, and I'd ordered some books from Amazon.

And, probably most importantly, I'd explicitly asked P for help. Asked him to make sure I spent most of Spring Break working on my dissertation.

In Sickness & In Health

Goodness, it's been a while for me, hasn't it?

The reason it's been so long is that I've been delightfully good and obscenely responsible.  No really, it's true.

Or it could be I've been remiss about a lot of things including blogging.  Lately though, spanking's been on my mind and I've been writing on my personal blog.   Paul and I have been having adventures, including a trip to Vegas for Shadow Lane.  This meant, among other things, that I got to spend time with fellow PB writers, Bridget and Iris (& M too).

Needless to say, this made me think about a lot of spanking and PB related things.

New Uniforms and New Beginnings

The PB has been relatively quiet lately, though research shows that's not due to a lack of spanking or spanking writing by many of the authors here.  Here's my research update.  Since last we heard from them, the ever so sexy Natty has been experimenting with topping and (of course) she has been spanked as well.   The lovely Haron has been welcomed home with a whipping (o that Abel!) while sparkle has been directed to devise her own painful welcomes for her reunion with Chris (who has been posting pictures of sparkle's bum, but that's another matter).   DykeGrrl / Jigsaw Analogy can often be found on the forum where I discovered she's getting regular maintenance spankings on Sundays (me too!). 

Finally, Paul pointed out late this afternoon that Iris was in trouble today too and going to get a spanking.  More sunburn trouble for Iris, complete with (perhaps) a spanking with / in front of a girlfriend guest. 

Okay, so I've delayed enough I guess.  A careful reader (which I'm sure you all are) would have noted the word "too" in that sentence above.  "Too" as in "also" or "as well."  Since it was agreed last Sunday that we would use Sunday's to discuss the week, and I've known all week I'd be spanked Sunday.  A tiny part of me has been looking forward to it because it would mean I was going to wear my new uniform.  But only a tiny part because I knew that the very act of wearing it would prompt a hard spanking and I'm not crazy.  You see, a little over a month ago, Paul surprised me with two authentic gym-slips.  They were ordered from a UK eBay vendor but they're imported from South Africa where school girls still wear them.  Although I'd tried them on, personal circumstances which required Paul to travel to the UK quite suddenly coupled with a heat wave (the uniform is a black wool blend) here when he returned  (with some authentic uniform shirts no less) meant I hadn't had a chance to really wear it yet.  Those of you who know me know that in addition to being a "sick little hand-tawsing freak" (thanks Niki), I have serious love for traditional uniforms.  Had this managed to be simply a maintenance spanking, it probably would have been eager anticipation I felt last night. 

Instead, given that the phrase "You'll get an e*e*a to clean you out in the morning when we get up and then we'll deal with everything else this afternoon" or something very close to it, was uttered, I was kept awake by more than just concern over the Doctor Who cliff hanger.  The e*e*a was to be my punishment for having eaten sugar without permission.

Introducing Bridget as Our Birthday Present

Three years ago today the first entries to the PB went up!  Woot!  And to celebrate, a present for our readers and ourselves.

It's my pleasure to introduce a new PB writer today.  She's both thoughtful and delightful and her name is Bridget.  I know my procrastination in getting her added has been long enough that she's already got her introduction written so you have that delight to look forward to -- if you can't wait, the link to her blog is here.  But I'll post a few of my own details about young Bridget just as a teaser.

Bridget is in her 20s, part of a poly family and in a Master / slave relationship.  There have been occasions where I've heard What It Is We Do contrasted with BDSM and specifically the M/s dynamic but from what I've seen we've got a great deal in common, specifically in the area of being held accountable to an external authority.  But anyway, I'm looking forward to Bridget's entries here and everyone's discussion of them.

Happy 2008 and happy birthday to us!

Sleeping, Spice Drops and Ping Pong

Just a quick note before my embarrassing stuff, sparkle has a wonderful little entry over on her blog here and a (very hot) list of her rules and consequences here. 

So go read her stuff.

You're still here? 

Damn!

Okay, so I got spanked this morning.  Not just spanked, punished actually.  Why?  For going to bed very late (4:15am)  and then getting up very early  (6:45am). 

Details?  Okay...

Consentual Nonconsent and Other Issues of Equality

Over on "My Bottom Smarts" Bonnie asks the questions:

1. Is it possible to be submissive and equal simultaneously?
2. Does the fact that you submit to spanking negatively impact your standing in your relationship?
3. Do you or your partner view you as the lesser member of the relationship, or are you equal in all things other than spanking?

Bonnie's answers are great -- I wasn't sure how much I had to add.  However, the issue of equality and inequality in discipline and punishment relationships comes up quite a bit so I thought maybe I could put a bit of a PB twist on the questions, so to speak.

Finding Your Someone

Over on her lovely blog, Ruby Red posted the other day about the problem of finding the right person.  You know, not just a playmate and / or spanking friend (though we love those too), but a life partner. 

She writes:

I'm so damned picky. Even then, I'll meet someone in a moment of weakness and continue to meet with them until that moment of clarity that says, "He's totally wrong for you, dummy!"

Whether it's differences in politics, religion, familial ties... or if it's completely spanko-centric, there are a lot of reasons why people might be incompatible. It's not enough to share an interest in spanking. We all know how faceted the world o' spanking is... There's domestic discipline, roleplaying, erotic, bondage, BDSM, hardcore spanking, light spanking, good girl, daddy/daughter, M/F, F/F, F/M, M/M... there's spanking for fun, spanking for punishment, spanking for the hell of it. There's costume choices, implement purchases...decisions, decisions, decisions! It's all about finding the partner that comes closest to what you're actually interested in.

Ruby isn't the only one to bring this up -- we get email from a lot of women (and men!) looking for partners.  I know some of us have mentioned stuff in passing, but the question of how one gets into a relationship with discipline / punishment is maybe worth addressing in an entry of its own.

(Besides, I'm having trouble getting my comments to stick on blogger today.)

SCAM Artist Alert OR I Feel So Dirty!

A year or so ago "Katie Spades" wrote to the Punishment Book authors telling us how much she liked the PB (including some dreck on us having "inspired" her and her partner) and asked us to link to her as she was starting a career as a spanking model.

Now we never do the "I'll link to you if you link to me" thing but a couple of PB writers liked the blog and said they were following it (that's always our criteria).  So a link to her blog went onto our sidebar (no  need to check, it's gone).

Today one of the other authors sent me this link from the A.S.S. blog.

Apparently Katie's been scamming us all.

(Katie: from the quoted beer.com podcast)
Here was the deal, like I wanted to make money. And to get a name for myself, but I wasn't quite sure how to do it, and I didn't want to go like straight up porn. So I looked around... and I saw the, well it's like this little community, the spanking industry... and for the most part... I mean there are a couple of pretty models... but for the most part there aren't many. So I looked at it as like okay, here is an easy way jump to the top of an industry like that, because I can totally take it over with the way I look. So I decided to do that.

I haven't actually listened to the whole podcast yet --I'm at work-- but I've heard enough.   A friend had pointed me to her "SAVE KATIE" campaign which was raising money to supposedly off-set expenses brought on by an "illness." The interview doesn't seem to mention that, but there's no reason to think that's true either.

As my grandfather would have said, what a piece of work! My sympathies especially go out to the kindhearted folks who were taken in by her "SAVE KATIE" scam to get money out of the community for help during her  supposed "illness."

Feh!

PS: Sending even more love out to the real models in our scene. You're 100X more fun to watch anyway.

Examining My Conscience

quia peccavi
nimis cogitatione, verbo et opere:
mea culpa,
mea culpa,
mea maxima culpa.

(Okay, this starts out like an account of a play scene, but isn't. If you're looking for that you're going to be disappointed.  Fair warning)

Here I'm going to digress just a little bit.  I'm Roman Catholic -- have been since birth.  My first 13 years of education were in Catholic schools, mostly taught by nuns.  In my own weird way I'm quite religious.  I'm not very spiritual however -- in fact I have almost no faith in God.  It's the ritual that attracts and comforts me.  I've been away from the Church for a while -- the typical lapsed Catholic. There are a number of reasons I've absented myself -- disagreement with RC politics and my own personal choices (marrying after a divorce and outside the Church being chief among them).  Being away and not attending Mass or joining my local parish have been my doing and I mostly don't feel inclined to return.  But right now it's May and the roses are blooming.  There are alters to Mary all around. 

Right now I miss my religion*.

Safewords: In Answer to Bonnie's Brunch Question

Every Sunday on her blog "My Bottom Smarts" Bonnie asks a Brunch question and invites her readers to post their replies. This week her question was about safewords. I started to reply there, but my response got so long that I realized it was a blog entry in and of itself.

Bonnie's question:

There are a variety of opinions about safewords. Many spankos believe they are absolutely indispensible and spanking without one is hazardous. On the opposite side, other spankos claim that invoking a safeword constitutes "topping from the bottom." From this perspective, granting control to the spankee during a discipline session interferes with the lesson being delivered. Between these two divergent views, there are many shades of grey.

Do you and your partner employ a safeword? If so, how and when is it used? If not, why not?

My response is going to be after the break, but I also want to invite everyone to offer their own opinion. As you may have guessed from our other entries, the authors here don't tend to hold with the idea of there being such a thing as "One Trew Way."

Limit Testing

Right.  So the other day I said things were getting "back to normal."

They are getting back to normal, but with some bumps.  I wrote about the first day on el tercer ojo (my blog).  My plan was/is to blog each day this month about how things are going.  But of course I'm already two days behind.  This too was supposed to be written up yesterday, but again, I've fallen behind.

What I've realized though is that being away from things -- my work, spanking, uniforms and accountability in general -- has made it a little difficult for me just to step back into life as a disciplined girl (or woman, whatever).

As it says on my blog, the first day went pretty well.  I didn't get any work done, but Pab and I had already talked about that and decided I didn't need to start my school work yet.  Everything else got done that day and the bedtime spanking was a sweet good girl one that hurt, but not too much.  I went to bed feeling very smug.  Clearly we have this discipline relationship thing down, right?  And can slide back into this like a pair of comfy jeans.  Right.

Tuesday?  Not good.

Moving Back to Normal

Or at least we're getting back to whatever passes for normal in our house. 

In early December I had abdominal surgery that required longish incisions on my stomach.  The recovery was painful -- more-so then I expected -- despite some really really good drugs*.  The surgeon had to cut through and reconnect muscle and resew my skin together.  I was uncomfortable and needed (and got) a great deal of TLC while I was healing.

In many respects recovery wasn't fun, though I did get some really nice gifts and cards from friends and family.  However, my healing did function as a "Get out of spanking free" card.  Oh and a get out of research and writing too.

Apparently, that card has been played for the last time this month.

10 Years Ago Today on alt.sex.spanking

I delurked with a story and a very few details about myself, given the name Mija by Bea, who, at the time, was a regular poster.  Usenet was very mysterious to me, as Ron McIngle discovered to his pain as he tried to explain to me where I was and how I got there.  I didn't have web access -- I'd found alt.sex.spanking via crosspostings from a Los Angeles personals newsgroup.  The spam was very heavy -- probably at least 95% of the group's content at the time.  But the community, in the midst of planning the creation of this group, shone through.  That it existed at all seemed more amazing then I could bear.

At the time I was 29, in the middle of the first year of my MA program and floundering in an unhappy marriage that had taken my 20s and left me feeling far older than I was.  My (now) ex husband saw my interest in spanking as "outside any idea" he could have about me.  I'd buried my desires deep, only to have them reappear, triggered by writings of feminist Dorothy Allison.

Over the Knee

It's been almost ten years since I delurked on alt.sex.spanking.  This past month, sparkle's husband Chris wrote a bit about delurking and the effect it's had on his life, mostly in terms of people he's met on-line and off.  This blog, of course, is an example of wonderful connections we've made.  Generally I forget that I've been around for a while (and likewise I forget that I'm getting old) and therefore I've been fortunate enough to have met a lot of very kewl people in this scene.

But I had another "wow, I know some people who are famous" moment recently.  Maybe my most profound one.  So pardon me while I brag on a friend.

You see, a dear friend, Fiona Locke, has a novel that's just been published this week.  It's called Over the Knee and it has clearly been written by someone very into our scene for people like me (and you too if you read and like this site).  Yes, I know someone who's written and published a real, on-paper spanking book.

But that wasn't all.  I mean, I've met and chatted with a few other spanking authors (Eve Howard and Devlin O'Neill) at Shadow Lane parties and some other BDSM / kink writers like Miranda Austin and Janet Hardy from the newsgroup.  In the case of Fiona's book though, I know the person who took the picture on the book's cover.  I know both the spanker and the spankee in the picture (okay, so it's Fiona and her partner, but how often do you know of an author posing for the cover image?).  And I know (and live with) the person who built her website.  Although I contributed nothing to the success of this venture, I still feel so excited about it.

Besides, as great as reading stories online is, isn't there something especially wonderful about having a book about spanking in your hands?

Say What NEXTEL?

This seems a rather harsh ad campaign, but perhaps one we'll have to adopt here on the PB. 

Pab snapped this on our way to breakfast this morning, compensating for the reflection and the like.  We did try and take one with me standing under the sign but I did something odd with my mouth during the picture (not at all unusual for me btw) and so have disposed of those copies of the print.

One nice thing about living in Santa Monica is that no one seemed at all interested in why we were either snapping the pictures or why I was posing there.

Maybe we'll have to try it again before the sign comes down. 

Motivation

So getting to today. 

As I mentioned below, today was not a good day.  It started out rather badly as I stayed up too late last night (and got spanked quite hard with a wooden spoon for thoughtlessness).  I'd been out of sort all day yesterday and started that way today too.

A conversation with a friend helped, and reminded me that I needed to get to working.  But 2:30 rolled past and I was still in my "going to get coffee" sun-dress rather than my "getting down to work" uniform.   Pab was in the other room busily working.  Probably thinking I was too. Probably not realizing (because I'd been crafty enough not to post anything) that while the iMac was locked, my Powerbook was still on the 'net. 

But the day was slipping past.  What I couldn't do, without talking to him, was leave.  And I wanted to go shopping -- and I really need some new cords. 

I had an idea.  Instead of today, I could work tomorrow.  It would all even out the same and I'd have gotten my weekly pages done.  Besides, I'd worked hard (for me anyway) all month.  Surely I deserved this Friday off to shop on Third Street.

Thirty-Two Pages OR The Shadow Lane Knock-On Effect

I've been intending to write something about the way things are in our house since September (since we got back from Shadow Lane).  I did write this and Pab wrote his response, but that was before things in our house really started.   

Right after that, well, we started talking about the way things would be while I got some much needed work (meaning writing on my thesis) done. 

It (I'll explain more about it as we go) started the first week in September.  It's been just over a month now and things have gone pretty well.  As of this afternoon a chapter of my thesis that didn't exist at all on September 5 now has 32 pages. 

And today, well my bottom is currently so sore that sitting is painful.  Which gets to why I'm finally writing about this.  You see, today was not an easy day. 

We're *First*?

Today when I was checking our stats (yeah, I do it a lot, especially when bored at work), I realized that the PB makes Google's first or second page for the entry "punishment."  Cool, right?

Yeah, guess where we are on the page when if you Google "punished wife"?  Ouch!

Caned wife? Page 5.

Punishment Book?  First entry, page 1.

---

And yes, these are generating a number of hits*, thanks for asking.

(*and no, that wasn't an intentional pun.  Double ouch!)

Congratulations Haron OR Years of Caning Pays Off

It's finally happened.  After being punished for being bad (though she never really is), motivated to be good (and here too), for working too hard, and for reading in the dark, one of our esteemed PB authors, the lovely Haron, is almost a doctor (PhD) of law.  She turned in her dissertation this past week and even had a celebratory dinner / caning, which you can read all about here.  All she has left is her defense.

What a wonderful achievement!

Haron's an inspiration to me, given that I've been stuck ABD (that's 'All But Dissertation' to the innocent) for far too long.  She deserves all sort of congratulations for finally being out of school.   Though I suspect she will, heart of hearts, forever be a schoolgirl.

But What's In It For Them?

Prompted by an overheard phone conversation at Shadow Lane's fall 2006 party.

Okay, so part of what's triggering this entry my classic anxiety about what Pablo could possibly get out of the disciplinary end of our relationship.  I mean, it seems to me like work he's having to do keeping me from drifting off onto circular or self-destructive paths.  When we've talked about it before he's generally made a bit of a joke in his dry English way, answering that what he gets out of it is "a quiet life." 

It's a cute comment but didn't really tell me much.  Not what this bit of eavesdropping and subsequent conversation (with me, not eavesdropping) did.

The Typical Domestic Spanking Story: Mija's Version.

I'm not sure why it's taken me more than a week to write this entry.  There was nothing especially severe or terrible about this punishment.  Partly I'm embarrassed, but then I've written about far more serious and shaming things here.  I guess on some level I had convinced myself that if I just kept delaying I wouldn't really need to write about it. 

But eight days later, after some gentle reminders, well, here I go.

Last Saturday I got spanked quite hard for something embarrassingly cliche.  As Haron wrote in her entry A Naughty Punished Wife sometime ago, there are certain things that it's almost too stereotypical to be spanked for.  Laxness in house cleaning is one Tasha's written about.  Not mailing an important check (or "cheque' for our British readers) was Haron's 'wifely' downfall.  I supposed I should keep these in mind as I write my version of the typical domestic spanking story.

4th of July Fireworks

"Bed!"

"But I want to stay up a bit longer," I argued.

"You have a long day at work tomorrow," Pablo replied (that was true) smacking me not-very-hard as I waked walked by.

"See," I teased, giggling a bit, "even you don't want me to go to bed.  That smack was pretty half-hearted."

"The ones I'm going to give you in the bedroom won't be."

I gulped.  My guilt came flooding back.  How could I have forgotten about this morning?

Careless Girl

Have you noticed how many of my entries in the Punishment Book are about punishments for being careless?

Yes?  Well this one won't be much of a surprise then.

I woke up this morning rather late (it was Saturday and we don't have children).  During a rather sweet morning snuggle, Paul mentioned that it was a good thing he hadn't gone to bed when I did and asked if I could guess why.  He usually doesn't go at the same time as me as we've long known I need more sleep then he does or I get sick and out of sorts. 

Anyway, as much of what we've talked about in recent days has been related to his taking over technical moderation of our beloved soc.sexuality.spanking, my first guess was a late-night spam attack.  This is my moderation week and the spammers always seem to know when I'm sleeping.  But no.  It wasn't that.

I wouldn't have gotten in trouble about that.

V For A Very Strange Girl

Note: there is a spoiler in this about the movie "V For Vendetta." If you haven't seen it and are planning to do so, you might want to skip this posting.

Just Splenda

Just great.  No really.

So this morning I was sipping my coffee (trust me, the day doesn't start for me until I get my caffine fix) and teasing Pab a bit to see if we were going to get to do anything fun today or if he had to work.  He'd just told me that we'd go for a bit of a wander, but I needed to let him finish something he was doing.

I left the room with some sort of comment.  Probably very clever and funny (though of course I can't remember it) and got a small, shivery threat as my reward. 

Telling Truths & Telling Tales

I feel odd writing this because it's something I want to discuss (hence the whole writing thing) and yet don't want to be pointing fingers or telling tales at someone else's expense.

So here's my attempt to have it both ways.

In the past couple weeks it's come to light that a popular blogger who wrote about spanking, her marriage and domestic discipline / punishment over the past several years has basically been creating an elaborate fiction.  Though I didn't read her very often (and therefore the site wasn't linked from the Punishment Book) I'm on another list with some people who were very regular readers and feel upset / betrayed and all sorts of other negative feelings.

FAQ Question 2: So How Can I Make My...

...[husband / wife / boyfriend / girlfriend / partner] decide to [discipline / spank / punish] me?

I'm not sure about the other women posting here, but I get emailed this question a lot.  We've gotten a couple people asking this recently either on this site or by email.  Haron answered it a bit here, writing:

...it's impossible to give advice without knowing more about you, your boyfriend, his preferences and your own. Is he even into spanking, or is he doing it to humour you?

On the whole, it's been my experience that the only way to "get" somebody to do anything is to discuss it with them, endlessly and painstakingly. To explain why it's important to you, and how it would make you happier, and what attracts you about it. I'm not in favour of pestering, but unless you communicate your desires clearly, he won't start punishing you out of the blue.

If you *have* talked about it, and he still won't do it - well. It's a different story.

This is a great answer to this question.  I'm going to write a bit more because, well, why not?

A Questionnaire & Answers

Someone (who can identify herself  if she so desires) I met at Shadow Lane sent me a questionnaire to fill out.  Although this wasn't completely about punishment, I thought it might be interesting to post it here.  So here are the questions and my answers.  Pablo also answered the questions and his answers are on his blog.  I found it interesting that we had quite a bit of overlap without having talked to each other about this. 

Then again, maybe it isn't too surprising. 

Another Spanking

I wish this were a party report about how much fun I had a the Shadow Lane party this weekend.  Or the start of a discussion about how difficult long-distance discipline can be -- something I promised a new friend the other day.  It isn't though.

Instead, yesterday after he'd driven us home from Vegas and returned the rental car, Pablo told me (before spanking me good night hard enough to bring tears to my eyes) that when he got home from a meeting today he was going to wallop me. 

One of Those Days

Yesterday was one of those days.

You know what I mean?  I was feeling a bit unsettled and possibly (though of course I'm not entirely sure) may have come off as a bit cranky and naughty.  There was no reason for this.  I'd had a good night's sleep, didn't need to go into my job, my research and writing had been going well.   And yet, well, I wanted something cool to happen.  I'm not sure what, but I was sure I'd know it when I saw it, if you can understand.

Pablo was home for the day and had some (boring) errands to run.  They weren't what I wanted to do (though getting coffee for me ended up being one of them and that was definitely something I wanted and needed), but seemed better than nothing.  So I went with him to the post office and Staples and the like. 

I got playfully accused of being a "little bit clingy" which, since it was true, did nothing to improve my mood.  Nor did knowing I needed to find a lift to Vegas for the Shadow Lane party next weekend, unless I wanted to miss the first night vendors' fair.  I hate asking for favors and at this point, I hadn't heard back yet from any of the feelers I'd sent out. 

"Feelers," well actually, that's just my word for begging.

And then we came home and I was supposed to get down to my writing. 

A New Year

I haven't been around much since the holidays.  Pablo and I were in the UK (which was great fun though very cold) and then when I got back I had some computer problems which seem to be mostly resolved.

Much of the time in the UK was spent seeing family (and happily some friends too).  But we did have some time alone and some privacy too.  Much more privacy than we had at home, thanks to the generosity of some dear (and delightfully kinky) friends who loaned us their fantastic home while they were away.

To mark both our anniversary (December 29) and the start of a new year Pablo and I talked about what we wanted to do for the coming year.  Um, in terms of me and my goals.  Obviously looking after me isn't a full time job.

No really, it isn't.

Ivory Woes: The (Hopefully) Final Chapter

Yes, yes, I'd hoped we'd heard the last of this saga too.

Last night I came back home from my parents' house which I will hence forth call the "The Sugar Shack" in honor of the amazing number of desserts existing under a single roof.  Getting home involved (for Pablo) a dead battery, a tow truck and an emergency favor from a friend).  It was after 11 by the time we got inside.  Still, even with all of that, he'd worn new white stiff collared shirt (it's one of our little rituals and one that had been too long coming) so I knew he'd been thinking about stuff.

I sort of hoped that meant we could skip the spanking and soaping. Because he knew I had to get up at 6am for work (ugh!) Pablo offered to wait until tonight.  I thought about it, I mean any delay in a storm, but then I realized I'd have to spend the whole day thinking about it.

Better to get it over with I thought.

And with that I gave him my additional bad news.

I'd had a cookie on the plane.

Ivory Woes (Part 2)

So, as you may remember from Wednesday, soap became my long-distance punishment for eating sugar.   You may also have notice my comment that yesterday I ate chocolate without thinking about it.   The following is my account of the conversation Pablo and I had last night.  There is no spanking (for those of you who look to this page for that stuff) and more white bar horror.

If you find this somewhat tedious, I'll defend myself by pointing out that the account isn't entirely voluntary.  In fact, it isn't at all.

Ivory Woes

I've been intending for a while to write an entry about non spanking sorts of punishments.  Intending to but not actually doing it.  I'm not sure this entry will either but I have to write it and so it's a start.

As I mentioned in this entry, I can't have very much sugar without getting sick.  (I did make it through that week, finally btw.)  But this week I'm staying at my parents' house where the sugar supply is endless.  After several days of hearing (Pab is at home several hundred miles away) of my failure to avoid sweet treats, Pab told me last night that I was to buy a bar of soap today and have it ready for tonight were I to continue to eat too much sugar.

Well, actually, he said "no" sugar.  Which is sort of the problem. 

The threat / warning was enough to make me tear up.   

Too Sweet

Can I just say that spankings really really hurt?  Not just on my bottom, though that's certainly true, but on my ego.  Especially when the spanking wasn't for something I did deliberately, that is something where I thought "I shouldn't be doing this but I'm going to anyway" but because I'm too spacey to remember what I'm supposed to be doing.

I'm sitting rather tenderly just at the moment because I'd promised (after a rather epic-ly painful hair-brushing) not to have any sugar for five days.   How long ago had I tearfully promised that?  Less than forty-eight hours ago. 

Doh!

Spelling Redux

My previous account hints at an earlier spanking for poor spelling.  Here's the actual account, finally.

Once upon a time, many many moons ago, in 1997 when Pablo and I first started falling in love via email and posts to ASS, he wrote a story for me called  "Spelling" which was based, in part, on spelling mistakes I'd made in posts and emails to him.

For Christmas the following year he gave me a dictionary.  Though life, mine anyway, sometimes imitates art, the dictionary wasn't used in the following real life story.

Unexpectedly Upturned

As Pablo and I were getting ready to leave today, him for work and me for a day of studying with a friend in her new office at a nearby university, I started searching for a book.  Not just any book but Methodology of the Oppressed by Chela Sandoval.  It had been recommended as vital to my research by two different people last year.  So naturally I'd ordered it from Amazon and then put it out of my mind.  But today I knew I needed to start outlining it. 

It was missing.  I looked and looked for at least 10 minutes before finally and frantically telling Pablo that my book wasn't anywhere.  So he started looking too.  We don't have a very big apartment, but there are many places a book can hide.  Of course when we moved 18 months ago, Pablo spent a long afternoon helping me organize my academic books by a combination of subject and author (I have a LOT of books) so exactly this sort of situation would be avoided.

Too Undisciplined For Discipline?

I'm recovered from surgery now.  My body is feeling pretty good and my brain is as good as it's ever been.  Which of course isn't saying much.  Stress is a bit high, but tolerable.

I've known for a few months now it was time to talk to Paul about bringing more structure back into our relationship.  Or, more specifically, into my life.  We were doing pretty well with it in February but my surgery and recovery took us away from that.  Paul's far too sweet to hold me accountable when I'm not feeling well.  He took such good care of me. 

About a month ago I had the conversation.  Do you know the one?  It's tough.  It's when I ask for more accountability.  More close supervision.  More structure.  The conversation went well and I was happy that he'd been thinking about that too.  I was about to go away for a week so we decided (he asked and I agreed) to write my thoughts on what I needed and a plan.  I agreed to that too.  But I didn't write it. 

All This Quiet and Now an Ad?!

I'm going to start by saying I'm sorry.  And yes, I am going to try and sell you an antique hairbrush.

I'm sorry I haven't been posting here more. There's been a lot going on in Pablo and my real lives related to work, immigration frustrations and the like. But the worst is over and I suspect in the next month I'll have a lot more to say here.

I hope so anyway.

FAQ Question 1: Why the blog?

It's been quiet here lately, for reasons I'll get to later.  But in the quiet, someone asked:

"How exactly did the 6 of you meet, discover your joint interest in spanking and decide to set up this blog?"

Like a Virgin

I guess this title makes it sound like my 80s childhood is showing. But really, it's Tasha's fault.   The title of this entry I mean.  Not anything else -- though now that I think about it, I'm sure someone could find something to blame her for.  Apparently after eight years of posting, writing erotica, chatting, not to mention my real life activities, I've reclaimed my spanko virginity.  My pain threshold is lower than I ever remember it being.

So does it work?

Does discipline and punishment work for me?  This is probably a question for the site FAQ (er, when we get around to writing one).  It's something that has come up in the Usenet group we've all been part of (alt.sex.spanking and its successor soc.sexuality.spanking).  Can any adult, especially an adult with a spanking fetish (which I feel safe in saying all of the blog authors have to some degree or other) be punished by spanking and have that punishment work to change their behavior?

My answer: Yes, no, sometimes and it depends.

Does that make sense?

A Sunday in Disgrace

So last night I posted that I wouldn't be on-line today (Sunday) and that I was to be punished but didn't know what would happen. Pablo has done a number of different things to punish me over the years we've been together. I suspected it would involve pain and my bottom, but also wondered what else might be done.

Frequently the "what else" is the hardest part.

All day yesterday I seemed to be pretending tomorrow (today) was Monday rather than Sunday. Sunday is our traditional day for accounting the past week and planning the next. And this was an accounting I feared, while at the same time I was also afraid that maybe Pablo was going to tell me that since I wasn't putting in any effort, we were going to once again put the idea of discipline (I like sparkle's term "methodic discipline") on hold for a while. You see, one of the things we've discovered is that Pablo can't pull me along (at least not very far or very often). He can be very effective at pushing me back on track, but the primary motivation must always come from inside me.

This week it hasn't.

Good News, Bad News

The good news is how great it's been to watch people finding the site and posting comments this week. The idea for this blog seemed a good one to me and the other authors last month, but it's been very cool to see that other people have found it to be interesting too.

So, with that good news, what could be bad? Well, I guess the answer to that one is me. I'm in disgrace. I've got a certain few things I'm supposed to be doing everyday to help me stay (or get) organized and get my work done. I haven't been doing them -- it's all been like pulling teeth. Anyway, this morning I found out that my "reckoning" on this will be tomorrow. I'm not sure what's going to happen but I've promised to post about it when I can go back on-line (which won't be until Monday).

What do you call it?

Domestic Discipline, Corporal Punishment, Discipline and Punishment, Parental Spankings, Masculine Authority, D/s, BDSM, WIIWD, Guardian / child, so many terms and still I can't find one I like....

My partner Paul and I were talking a few nights ago about we'd call what we do. I told him I'm not fond of the term "domestic discipline" because it carries too much "male authority" baggage with it. I used to talk about him as my "guardian" but that carries the sense of me not being an adult, which I am. On some other sites, I cringe a little at the thought of using the term "Head Of Household," especially put into caps. I'm not down on it for someone else, but it's so not us. Not me, not Paul. We've definitely always been partners. And that's the way our relationship should be, maybe even more now that we're married.