Wednesday

Although we never anticipated it, there came a time for discipline for cause. To address a certain behavior, to allow for atonement, to provide for absolution. I will not provide details: those are private; and in any case the issue is closed and forgotten now.

Of course we talked. One thing I am rarely accused of is impulsiveness :o|

I have chronicled here already the notion that good girls sometimes deserve spankings — that it isn’t fair that misbehavior can earn one, but that a flawlessly devoted submissive girl can’t have the handling she craves. That’s an idea I am — we are — still processing.

But this was not such a time.

She said: “Red, sore, crying.” She said: “Very, very hard.”

An edge for her: protracted, episodic spanking. Sent to corner repeatedly between events, their duration, spacing, and number not to be disclosed beforehand. I can’t spank harder than I do, so longer was my only option.

An edge for me: not just my hand. After I won’t say how many decades of nothing but.

I told her: “You will have to bring me the spatula and put it in my hands.” She gulped and nodded.

Which brings us to Wednesday morning.