Checking In

From time to time Meredith gently chides me for not posting in a while. The thing is, when I started blogging, after testing the waters as a guest on the blogs of two friends, I was already wondering what on Earth I was going to blog about. By then Harry and I had been on the ttwd path for three years. That doesn't mean we had it all down pat, we still haven't, but we had pretty much shaped the way we wanted our version to go. Pouting, flouncing and door slamming had all been consigned to history by that point, along with some other undesirable traits, so there is seldom anything of note to tell. Punishment doesn't figure in our dynamic, though there is discipline in the shape of 'reminders' and resets. There are no rules to be broken.

Or are there? When is, "I don't like you standing on a chair to get to get to the top shelves," the same as a rule? And what about, "Remember to take your phone with you when you leave the house."  How does that translate to, "You're in trouble," if I forget it? I guess the answer is that we have one golden rule, which encompasses anything and everything that Harry feels compromises my safety and he will always spank for that. 

Though I've vastly improved, I still slip up with the phone rule once in a while. Back in the summer, we were going to a fun 'do' at the invitation of one of our clients. At the last minute, Harry was called in to solve a problem at work and we had to travel separately. Our younger daughter was home on her yearly visit and was accompanying us to the event. Harry said he would call me when he was done to find out where to join us and I was to be sure to take my phone. As daughter and I walked into the the venue her phone rang. It was Harry; the problem had been resolved quickly and he was already there. We met up with him and he asked why I hadn't responded to his five calls. I opened my handbag, thinking I must have left the phone on silent after my gym session that morning. Sadly, I had left it on my bedside table. I looked aghast at Harry, remembering the spanking I got the last time I left it at home. You can imagine 'the look' he gave me. With our daughter there he could only say, "Don't say a word," but I was already envisaging another date with the jam spoon.

That was the last time I got into any real trouble and life has been pretty smooth since then. So smooth, in fact, that I recently asked Harry if I could give him some feedback on spanking. As I wrote in a post a while back, fun spankings are lovely but I crave discipline to remain on an even keel. Harry was still giving reminder spankings but, as I explained to him, there was so much rubbing, squeezing and stroking that the purpose of the spanking got lost and there was no after effect to remind me I had been spanked. He took that on board and reminders are now back to more business, less fun. He has also reverted to giving me 'appointments' for reminders. I love the anticipation after receiving his texts:

This morning, Harry was up and dressed ready to run an errand while I was still lounging in bed. I heard him shut the window and looked up to see that he had two paddles in his hand. I'm writing this with a hot bottom. Happy Weekend!




Rosie