Sunday, 13 May 2012

The ‘session six’

Has anyone ever read ‘The Discipline Archive’ by Garrick Espieside? 

For those who haven’t, but are scholars of corporal punishment history, then please may I recommend it? It’s available on Amazon.

It’s a fascinating account of a revolutionary method of disciplinary procedures in a further educational establishment some 50 years ago.

The synopsis, without spoiling the story, is that an establishment pioneers an experimental method of standardising the application of corporal punishment in a fair, but severe way.

It achieved this by employing two professional ‘assistants’ who’s sole job it is to administer corporal punishment in a controlled environment under a very stringent set of regulations.

The story is told through a series of interviews with the assistants and students and, though entirely fictional, is so well thought out and written that it could be entirely plausible and offers an interesting look how corporal punishment could and, some might say, should have continued.

The most fascinating idea was that of a ‘session six,’ which meant for every punishment slip that prescribed, say six strokes or 12 strokes, another six would be added.

So six strokes meant 12, 12 strokes meant 18. This was important because the maximum number of strokes per session was 18. With demerits a student easily could earn 18 strokes, which would mean at least two separate visits to the punishment facility for the cane: 12 plus a session six, plus the other original six, plus another session six. So instead of 18 strokes, the punishment would become 30.

Can you imagine going to the office with your slip saying 18 strokes to be told you’d be not only getting 12 more - but you’d have to come back a second time to complete the punishment?

Applying that to my weekly maintenance session it would mean three daily sessions of 12, each with a session six, making it 54 strokes in total. I don’t think I’ll be suggesting that to Mistress.

But, as I say, the book is a fascinating insight into an alternative corporal punishment regime and well worth a look.

Mackintoshes to put a shine on bad weather

All this rain we’ve been having has set me thinking about a new raincoat or jacket. Not something to wear around the house but something I can wear in public.

I’ve got my Weathervain sbr mackintosh but I wanted something with more convenient, something with a hood that makes it useable in all weathers - almost like a cagoule but in more lavish pvc or rubber that I can enjoy wearing than conventional nylon fabrics that almost everyone else wears.

After a lot of surfing around I came up with these options – all by Rimo Mantelmode in Germany. Rimo offer a huge range of raincoats and jackets in vinyl and latex – some of them outrageous fantasy cloaks with copious layers of shiny fabric but they also offer a lot of more basic rainwear items that you would feel comfortable wearing in the street.

I’m erring towards the blue cagoule because I like it’s simplicity – though I’d order mine in either black or brown – although if they had a more reddish brown or even a lighter tan in the same shiny pvc I’d go for that.

I also like the green parka but, if anything it’s got that touch of some Rimo coats in that it’s slightly too fussy for me.

The red and brown parkas are in a heavy latex material and look great (both are available in male or female versions) but my enthusiasm for shiny pvc is still winning the day.

I’ve asked Rimo if they could supply some small swatches of material to help make my decision. Shiny pvc is okay if it’s quite heavy but I’m not a great fan of the lighter PU rainwear – and to me, it’s more the kind of material used in the copious amount of high-street rainwear.

Friday, 11 May 2012

Concluding 'boot camp' week

Boot Camp finished last night with a 36-stroke caning, my weekly maintenance punishment.

I’ve called it Boot Camp because that’s what it’s felt like, but as I said before, none of this was planned. It’s been a long week, of disciplined days punctuated by bouts of corporal punishment – all designed to get our flr back on track. And, after everything, we both agree it’s been a spectacular success.

The build-up to my maintenance punishment was spectacular. After the week I’d had I wasn’t at all looking forward to it.

Mistress had to pop out to see a friend and left me strict instructions what time she wanted dinner ready. She also told me the washing needed taking out when the cycle was completed - and hung outside.

Simple enough, but I was also busy doing my own work too and when it came time to prepare tea I couldn’t recall if she said, quarter to eight or quarter past. So I decided to call her, only to find three missed calls on my phone from Mistress. When I rang her, I couldn’t get through. I knew the consequences of not having tea ready and got myself totally worked up to the point of heart racing, sweating and, I’m being totally honest now, feeling close to tears.

I know that might sound ridiculous, especially as I’m in my late fifties and I’m letting this get to me like a small child might, but I felt in a blind panic and kept thinking, ‘what is she going to say?’

I never realised I could this nervous about something Mistress had asked me to do.

My fear was however quelled when Mistress called to say she had got my missed calls and was on the way home. Her journey time was 20 minutes. The food would take 30. At least I could get it underway before she arrived.

My instructions also included having the cane ready next to the bench and be dressed appropriately. This I did.

When Mistress came in she was as workmanlike as any Governess you could fantasise.

“Is dinner on?”

“Yes Mistress. It will ready in 10 minutes.”

“Washing hung out?”

My heat sunk. I’d thought of it every time I was in the kitchen checking on the meal – except the time the cycle finished.

“No Mistress.”

“Oh dear.”

I looked on, very worried. Waiting for her to rebuke me. Instead Mistress gave my one of her looks which made me even worse that I’d failed such a simple task.

“Well, let’s get this done.”

She picked up the cane and pointed it to the bench.


My heart was thumping. Of all the canings this past few days, this was the one I feared the most. Maybe because I had all day to think about it. Possibly because, unlike all the other sessions, this time I knew exactly what to expect.

It was everything I expected. Delivered at moderate pace, barely allowing me time to count and thank Mistress. This caning had me wimpering, struggling to count each stroke as I’m required.

At 18 I have to admit I hung over that bench, my eyes damp and on the verge of real tears, my whole body shuddering, thinking, ‘my God we are only half way.’

But Mistress’s resolve to punish was steadfast and she completed the 36 with no breaks.

Once released from the bench Mistress commanded me to kneel before her. “I think you now understand the consequences of not affording me the attention that is expected. And the kind of discipline you can expect from now on if you don't. Remember, you asked to live this lifestyle and I’m happy to continue – but only while you respond in the correct manner. If at any time in future you deliberately try to undermine our regime or flatly refuse discipline again, that will be the end. Do you understand?

“Yes Mistress.”

“Now go and fetch the paddle. There’s the matter of things left in washing machine to be dealt with.”

Inwardly I groaned. Surely not more? But I raced upstairs for the paddle.

I got six swats. Not even hard ones. A token gesture.

But with Mistress’s words still in my head, there really wasn’t any need for any more physical punishment.

“Now I’d like my dinner.”

Thursday, 10 May 2012

Boot Camp continues

Today is maintenance punishment day. That’s 36 strokes of the thin Dragon. I’m not looking forward to it.

I was caned again yesterday. This time Mistress came in from work and I had the tea all cooked ready.
She walked in and said, “fetch the cane now, I want to relieve some stress.”

For the umpteenth time this past week, Mistress caught me on the hop. I really wasn’t expecting any more discipline until today but I did as I was told and rushed aback downstairs, stripped to my punishments pants, cane in hand.

“You ignored the rules when we were out this morning. You went off and looked in shops you wanted to look in when we agreed you would follow me. You also argued over where to have lunch. Bend over.”
I did actually ask permission to look in another shop but it had been declined. The mere fact I asked was wrong.

The argument over where to have lunch was my suggesting one café had a better choice of food than the one Mistress preferred. Don’t question Mistress is the rule.

I got the now familiar 36; 12 slow, 12 fast, 12 slow and I was wimpering as usual.

This has been a Boot Camp week like no other and while Mistress has picked up on faults that deserve punishment, she’s also been stringent in her application of the rules like never before. There is no question who is in charge.

We discussed things last night and both agreed that such intense use of the cane could not be sustained due to the potential for tissue damage to my poor bottom. But we also both agreed that this Boot Camp style, though not planned, had been an effective way to kickstart our flr and should be used again in future if warranted.

We also agreed that our future disciplinary procedure should continue to focus on the weekly maintenance punishment caning because it is a routine to keep me on the right path and correct my various faults during the week.

But we both feel that any subsequent issues that crop up during the week can be dealt with by using the paddle or strap, or even other forms of punishment – such as corner time or lines etc. However the cane is always there if the fault is deemed to warrant a more severe form of correction.

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Reflections from the caning bench

Last Friday’s Boot Camp-style day and the other night’s punishment came as a real shock to my system but effectively re-booted what had become an almost non-existent domestic discipline regime.

The thing about Friday that had the most impression upon me – apart from the obvious discipline itself – was the way Mistress handled everything with such calm authority.

This loving, caring woman that I love so much, turned into a severe authoritarian, the other side of her that I also love.

In ever day life she’s about the most laid back individual I know. Nothing seems to upset her and  she’s always got a smile on her face but when she’s in that dominant mood she demands nothing less than 100% attention from me.

The impressive thing is the calm, controlled way she is in that situation. As I’ve said before, she’d adopts this look on her face that says, ‘you had better do what I say, or else,’ and it’s a look that really makes my tummy flutter. It’s a look that’s quite frightening but also humbling.

Many of us living in an flr talk about giving up control, and that covers a wide range of aspects within the relationship, but it’s that moment within the disciplinary context when you surrender to the look that you really do give over control.

The other thing that I enjoyed seeing – even if it was through tear-stained eyes at the time - was Mistress flushed with excitement, and with a glint in her eye, after each of Friday’s punishments. Once I’m up off the bench and she’s sat on the sofa I always have to parade my battered bottom in front of her so she can admire he handy work and decided if I warrant more. She always takes pride in a collection of parallel strips and hates it if there’s one that’s a little off line or has wrapped a bit too far.

She was delighted with Friday’s collection of stripes and seeing her reaction revealed just how much she was enjoying her role.  

From my point of view, I deserved the kind of severity that was handed out. I’d become over-bearing, carrying my workplace attitude into the home, something I’d said I really didn’t want to do.

I’m not making excuses for my behaviour but I work in a macho kind of place, where your first line of defence in confrontation is attack. So at home I had become rather cutting and flippant. And Mistress can’t abide flippancy.

Mistress actually said at one stage, ‘why are you being so nasty,’ so it was clear I had stepped way out of line. There was no ill intent on my part but it was the kind of thing that could have had a detrimental affect on our relationship if it hadn’t been nipped in the bud.

And interesting aside is that the reason Mistress stop the punishment after six strokes with the thin Dragon to fetch the school cane and paddle  was that she had drawn blood on the fourth stroke with the Dragon. “I was worried that if I’d continue to use it with the force you deserved we’d have to stop quite early on. I thought you deserved a thorough beating and knew the thicker cane wouldn’t draw blood so easily and I could really whack you with the paddle.”

Mistress is so caring at times. Pardon my flippancy.

Friday’s reintroduction of corporal punishment was therefore well-timed by Mistress. She knows I’m a CP enthusiast, so I get a certain degree of pleasure from being punished,  but she also knows my limits and she seemed pretty determined to take me way beyond As a real punishment it was very effective and a just reward for me being such an oaf.

The other thing I’ve noticed since is how it’s given our relationship back that ‘edge’, a certain indefinable frisson that’s been missing for weeks. We’ve discussed this and both of us agree there’s a closer bond between us but neither of us can fully explain why.

Maybe it’s that act of Mistress showing her love with her willingness to punish me that - whether it’s because she knows of my enthusiasm for CP or whether it’s because she thinks I’ll feel better having my guilt feelings assuaged, I’m not sure. 

Maybe it’s my submission to Mistress showing my love and trust in her that means I bend over willingly and accept her correction.

Tuesday punishment was something else. Rather than a corrective process to get things back on track, this was typically how I’d expect a full-functioning flr to work. I broke a golden rule and was caned immediately. There was no discussion, no suggestion of my trying to get out of what I had coming. It was a short, sharp punishment and normal life resumed immediately.

With my bottom still marked and bruised from Friday I wasn’t expecting to incur Mistress’s wrath so soon but I have to admit it was a very effective way of Mistress enforcing her authority.

In the past Mistress would have gone easy on me, with my bottom so marked from a recent punishment. In fact, as I said in my previous post, I expected to get a swift dozen, just as token gesture but what I got was another full-on thrashing.

It was almost like Mistress had planned this to underline the regime that had been reinstated on the previous Friday but when I asked her if this was the case, she flatly denied any grand scheme.

“When you came in and totally ignored me, I just thought, this is wrong. I knew I had to cane you. You wanted me to be strict and enforce the rules so that’s what I’m doing.”

Am I happy about all of this? Of course I am. It’s a daunting prospect that Mistress has seen to lay the ground rules so strictly but it’s probably the only way our flr is going to work on a long-term basis.

I’m sure we’ll have more ups and downs and I think it will probably take those Boot Camp-style days to drag things back on track. In fact, I think there are essential to underpin the disciplinary rules of the house if we slip from the weekly maintenance punishments again.

I’ve got to say that getting back on track was due in no small part to the enthusiasm shown by some of you reading this blog. I’ve questioned my willingness to commit to the flr I always dreamed of but thanks to the advice and encouragement from people like michalem, ken and Cora, and kaelah.

And, as Mistress eaglery pointed out over lunch, now Thursday is looming, my first date with a maintenance caning in several weeks. I wonder if Mistress really will enforce the rule or, in light of recent punishments, she’ll decide to forgo the routine? I think I already know the answer to that one.

More vintage mackintoshes

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Reinforcing her regime

I’d not seen Mistress much over the weekend. I did some work on the house. She was out with girlie friends shopping on Saturday and then spent Sunday having Sunday lunch with her parents to leave me to get on with things at home. I was working on the Bank Holiday so there had been no chance to further discuss our latest flr regime developments.

When I came home yesterday evening I closed the front door behind me and shouted a hello on my way to the kitchen to drop off my bag. I spotted a couple of things Mistress must have bought on one of the chairs and took a quick peek at them, put the kettle on and then sauntered into the living room.

Mistrss had that look. “What have you been doing in the kitchen?”

“Nothing. I dropped off my bag and looked at those bits you bought. Where did you get them?”

“Never mind that, go and get the cane.”

“What have I done Mistress?”

Notice I added the word Mistress this time. Mention of the cane changed the dynamic – but then I should have known by the look.

“Should you question Mistress?”

“No Mistress.”

“Well go and get the cane.”

I went upstairs to the wardrobe. Stripped off. Put on my punishment pants and looked at the collection of canes. My bottom was still stripped and bruised. I really couldn’t face any more from the thin Dragon. But I knew it was the cane Mistress would want.

I went back downstairs. I wasn’t ready for this. But ‘it’ll only be 12,’ I told myself.

“What was the one big thing we discussed last week about the rules?”

“I must pay more attention to you Mistress.”

“Exactly. You come in from work and ignore me to go and put the kettle. I think, ignoring your Mistress deserves the cane.”

She gave me 12 hard, slowly delivered strokes, followed by 12 fast ones, followed by 12 more slow and hard ones. I wasn’t far off blubbing in the final 12. Any thought of a mere12 had been very wide of the mark.

Mistress released me from the bench and handed me the cane.

“Put it away. Bring me the paddle.”

And I had foolishly thought it was over. The paddling was vicious and I was writhing around all over the place and making quit a fuss. It made no difference and Mistress laid into me until she decided enough was enough. The effort had left her breathing heavy. I was wimpering again.

“Perhaps that will help you become more attentive,” said Mistress, handing me the paddle. “Now I will have that cup of tea thank you.”

It was a very different welcome home but an interesting development as I can't ever remember Mistress being quit so strict and unyeilding with me before.

Friday, 4 May 2012

Learning what a real thrashing feels like

I didn’t get the weekly maintenance punishment session I half expected from Mistress after our conversation.

What I got was probably the most severe thrashings that I’ve ever had and left me yelping after each burning stroke and on the verge of tears.

I’d half expected the punishment when Mistress came home last night but she said nothing and we went to bed as if the conversation had never happened.

We spent today together. Again, nothing was said about our flr when we lay in bed much longer than usual, just cuddled up and quietly chatting about other normal real life issues.

We had out own things to do in the morning but I was lounging around in a pvc mackintosh and pants so Mistress had an inkling of my mindset. It just seemed that she had no interest at all.

Then just when we were thinking about going out to lunch, Mistress came downstairs carrying the thin Dragon cane.

“I want you changed and back here in five minutes,” was all she said. “Off you go!”

I returned, stripped apart from the pvc bloomers, wrist cuffs on ready to go over the bench, and stood to attention in front of the bench, waiting for Mistress to come into the room.

She stood in front of me flexing the cane between fingers so dainty and sensitive you could not imagine the strength she could possess to whip that cane down so hard.

“This punishment you are about to receive is to remind you of your place. When this is over you are taking me to lunch. You will address me as Mistress when we are out and you will follow me when we go shopping. You will not saunter off, looking in shops you want to look in like you normally do. You will pay proper attention to me at all times. Is that understood?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Bend over the bench.”

I’m sure, as any of you who have not been caned regularly will attest, that there’s sudden intense shock of the first few strokes. At four I was squirming and wriggling my burning bottom sideways to try and escape but Mistress said, “Back in place. You will take six.”

I did but Mistress then left the room. I was scared I’d annoyed her enough to forget about the beating but she was soon back in the room.

She said nothing and the next thing was a brief swish and I felt the thud of a thicker rod, which I later realised was our Senior School cane. I took 12. It was a different hurt to the thin Dragon. But it still hurt.
Then I was being paddled. Real rapid fire swats, maybe a couple of dozen. I wasn’t counting. It was all I could do to catch my breath. I had no idea what she was using to such devastating effect. The whacks across the tops of my thighs really smarted. It was our Quality Control spoon-shaped paddle in double-thickness hide. I’d never experienced the intensity of sting like that before from it.

No sooner had Mistress put that to one side I was being caned again. Really deep hard whacks with the thicker Senior School cane. I could feel the moisture in my eyes and realised I was getting vocal. 12 of those. Then six more with the thin Dragon and Mistress was down in front of me releasing my wrists.

She stood smiling at my predicament. “Right, we can go to lunch now. Remember what I said.”
Lunch was like nothing had happened, except when I picked up a newspaper to scan. I just got the look.
When I got up to go to the toilet before leaving the café I got a very surprised look. “Where do you think you are going? You didn’t ask permission to go anywhere.”

“I need the toilet.”

Raised eyebrows.

“Mistress, please may I go to the toilet?”

My squirming was received with a knowing smirk. I wondered what the elderly couple made of the conversation if they heard it.

We did some shopping then returned home. Again it was like nothing had happened until I offered to make Mistress a cup of tea later in the afternoon.

“Hmmm, I think it’s time you went over the bench again.”

This time I got a good whacking with the paddle first. Followed by 12 really full force strokes with the Senior School cane.

“Hurt did they?” Mistress asked, almost mocking me.

“Yes Mistress,” I mumbled.

“That’s how the cane should be given don’t you think?”

Her voice was strident. She was loving this.

My stomach churned at the thought of that kind of punishment on a regular basis. I thought the thin Dragon had been a weapon. This was every bit as bad. I’ve read that a warm-up with the paddle first dulls the pain of the cane. Believe me, I felt every single stroke of that cane this time.

She used the thin Dragon next. 12 really quick ones. It was over again.

“I’ll have that tea now.”

I was dismissed again and checked on my bottom. Very red all over with a band of purple on check a good inch wide on my right buttock cheek. The heat was quite something too.

I sat quietly reflecting on my fate. I was still a bit shaky and sweating but there was a wave of euphoria that we were actually getting back on track. It wasn’t over. The canes were still out on the table, poised for another onslaught and I didn’t have to wait long.

Once I had the meal in the oven, Mistress told me to fetch the paddle and get over the footstool with my bottom in the air.

She gave me the most ferocious paddling I’ve experienced and I was close to tears when she told me to stand and face her. I felt myself whimpering.

“Why are you crying?”

“It hurts Mistress.”

“It’s what you wanted isn’t it? What you needed?”

“Yes Mistress.”

She pointed to the bench. Reluctantly, I bent over it.

“Fast or slow?”

“Slow please Mistress.”

Although I knew the searing strokes from the thin Dragon she had in her hand would be harder to take than a quick-fire session, I chose slow. I asked myself why I did that as the first stroke bit me.

She gave me 12 strokes, again as hard as I’ve ever had. There were a couple of spots of blood where the skin had grazed.

There had been nothing pleasurable about any of the three sessions today. This had been the punishment I knew I deserved. And, if I’m honest I needed.

Over dinner we talked about our domestic discipline regime and how Mistress expected my behaviour to improve.

“Please may I ask one question Mistress?”

“You may.”

My heart was thumping again but I had to ask.

“Does this mean that Thursday maintenance punishments are re-instated?”

“Of course it does. But if you ever refuse a session again, you know the consequences, the flr you say you desperately want will end there and then.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Thursday, 3 May 2012

Be careful what you ask for

I didn’t realise Mistress would be out tonight with friends but at least we’ve broached the subject of resuming our domestic discipline regime.

After our meal, I asked Mistress if she would mind us picking up where we had left off with our flr and I got the kind of immediate response I deserved.

“You were the one who kept coming up with excuses not to have weekly punishment so don’t expect me to just fall into line with what you want, just because you have a need for it this week.”

It put me in my place and I felt my face begin to flush. I should be embarrassed I thought, with all the whining and moaning I had come up with in the past weeks to avoid the cane.

“One thing is certain, if, and I say if, we do continue with the regime,” continued Mistress, “there will be a rule that you have no say in whether or not you are punished. It will be entirely down to me. And, if you break that rule, it will be the last we’ll speak of an flr or domestic discipline in this house. I’m fed up with you deciding when and when not you are in the mood to be play your submissive role.”

“Yes Mistress,” came the pathetic mumble from my lips.

My response earned a disparaging look.

"Yes Mistress," I said with the clarity of a soldier responding to an order from his staff-sergeant.

By now my heart was pounding. I was excited by Mistress’ sudden return to her authoritarian self but I was also mindful of what this all might mean. That wicked thin Dragon and those weekly canings that I had come to dread – and, worse still, her really strict boot-camp style disciplinary weekends. I don't mind admitting I felt real fear.

Tamara made a really good point in a comment to my previous post that, “you do not really seem to enjoy pain, but still somehow you crave it - or maybe rather the effects it has on you or the context in which it is applied.”

And I think she has summed it up perfectly because I do crave it and I do benefit its effects. Even so, the prospect it still daunting.

David was right to say it’s not our place to come up with excuses. I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from finding them.

But michaelm hit the nail on the head when he said, “there are no halfway stages if you enjoy and need and flr.”

I think that’s the point, it’s the sum of the entire relationship that simply works for me, but if I want that kind of relationship, then a part of it is being punished when I have displeased Mistress.

Isn't that why we want to live an flr lifestyle? We yearn to be submissive to our Lady's. To serve. To please. But a lot of us draswn to this lifestyle also have a fascination with corporal punishment. And being punished by the powerful woman in our lives.

Bobcat questioned why we shouldn’t just reduce the number of strokes of the maintenance session to allow me to build my tolerance level to the point where I could adequately accept the weekly 36 strokes.

But the whole point of our maintenance 36 is to punish. And to punish, Mistress and I decided long ago that the number of strokes had to be beyond what I found acceptable.

I’ve always believe that if you use domestic disciplinary procedures, then to be effective the punishment has to be beyond one’s limits. Mistress knew from experience I could suffer 24 strokes, but she also knew very well that 36 would be challenge. And she also knew that the thin Dragon cane was the most painful implement in our collection of canes.

So 36 strokes with the thin Dragon was the specific weekly tariff and we both agree that would not be negotiable. As far as limts go, 36 is still beyond mine!

When we started this regime, we both questioned whether I’d eventually manage the 36 without complaint but, up to the point of me crying enough with the weekly sessions, it simply wasn’t the case.

In fact Mistress has become more and more effective. Truthfully, I never saw this coming. Now she always canes me hard enough now that taking a mere 12 is a challenge in itself.

Remember we went through the erotic spanking games before we took up this flr lifestyle – and back in those days it was okay to call a halt if things got a bit too painful.

We adopted our weekly maintenance session in order to establish a routine. We had found that it was impractical to punish faults as they occurred, so the flr wasn’t progressing as we had hoped.

So each Thursday we have a quick discussion of anything that Mistress has issue with about my behaviour and then I am punished. At least I had been until I had my ‘wobble.’

Even sitting here typing this and thinking about the effect of the cane, I feel nervous about the future, but now the wheels are in motion I can only await Mistresses decision.

The reason I’m nervous is that I think that, as I said in my last post, Mistress really does enjoy my more submissive side and takes a deep delight in punishing me. My expectation is that if she does agree, and does insist on the new rule, then I’m going to be paying the consequences for messing her around with my silly behaviour for some time to come.

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

The dilema of regular punishment

If you check out this blog on a regular basis you’ll have noticed little recent reference to any maintenance punishments that have formed the backbone of our domestic discipline regime.

In fact on April 5, I posted a note alluding to this very subject. And, checking back, it was February when I last suffered a weekend of any serious disciplinary procedures. And that was after a somewhat quiet period in our flr.

It’s because neither Mistress nor I have had time to think about that side of our lifestyle in the past few weeks, nay months, so apart from that little interlude with Loopy Johnny at the hotel, my bottom has been free from cane marks for some time.

Mistress has made a couple of references to me needing a good thrashing but I’ve not responded and the threat has ebbed away. I’m happy and sad about that at the same time.

Let me explain. For someone who has spent his whole life fascinated by the cane and wanting to experiences it harsh, sting effect, I’m a little shocked how little interest I’ve had in the thought of bending over to suffer its delights. But the truth is the weekly thrashings were becoming something of a challenge. I was struggling to face them. So when the opportunity came to take a rest from them, I didn’t complain.
I know there will be some of you reading this thinking that it’s not my choice to decide if or when I should be punished and you are quite right. Mistress has the ultimate sanction and if she had sent me to fetch the cane, then I would have done as ordered.

But I think Mistress has had an inkling thanks to my feeble excuses to avoid punishment some weeks back.
My failing since was not reminding Mistress that maintenance sessions were due, allowing that momentum of our regime to slip. I took full advantage of the fact Mistress was heavily involved in other ventures. I know, had I reminded her, the sessions would have taken place as normal.

Part of me is now, finally starting to feel an absolute desperate need to be caned, which is nothing unusual. But the real issue I have is a genuine fear of the cane.

There, I’ve admitted it. I know just how much those 36-stroke canings hurt – and how much I struggle to cope. And I know that’s going to happen every week if, or, when we resume.

I know some of us have discussed how our flrs have ebbed and flowed. Real life has to take precedence. I also know a lot of us have come into an flr because of our fascination with corporal punishment and strict female authority. But has anyone else struggled with the reality of punishment?

I know Mistress is keen to continue. But each time I get myself worked up to ask if we can resume the regime, I end up backing away and not doing anything because I’m not sure I want to suffer that searing pain.

There’s an irony there. I always wanted to know what it was like to really fear the thought of being caned. Well now I know and I’m in two minds whether it’s a good thing or bad.

I tell myself it’s good to fear the cane. To know and understand that suffering. It’s about purging the soul. Paying for my faults. I should embrace that suffering. And it’s a willingness to suffer at the hand of the Lady I love.

With discipline so relaxed now in the home, I’m not sure how I’d feel for Mistress to suddenly become as authoritarian as she was. Don’t get me wrong, I still have maintained my chores and still put Mistress first in situations where she should be considered in that way, but I have also been allowed to please myself a lot more than at the height of our flr.

My lazy male side enjoys its old freedoms. My submissive side misses the authority.

But the one thing I know for definite is that a half-way house cannot work. We either carry on as we are, without discipline – or we go back to a strict household and I learn to live with the regular punishment sessions.

The aspect I enjoy most about Mistress exerting her authority is the intense feeling of love and affection it brings. That sounds strange but it’s because Mistress has so much love for me that she wants to give me the experiences she knows make me happy.

It’s not all one way though. She gets a kick out of exerting her authority and thoroughly enjoys me waiting on her hand and foot.

I also believe both of us really could do with the stress relief a maintenance punishment session brings. I know how much more relaxed I feel afterwards and I also know that Mistress reaches a point where she really looks forward to laying into me with that thin Dragon.

Not only that, it keeps me on track. I’ve noticed is that with no threat of corporal punishment, faults that might have been dealt with immediately have not now just been going unpunished, some issues have lingered, creating an atmosphere when a swift dozen with the cane would have cleared the air immediately. Mistress and I have discussed all this at length. She allowed this flr to develop to please me and says the final decision has to be mine but once I’ve made it, then we stick with it.

Her gripe with me is not knowing where we are. The only thing she’s intimated is that she prefers the disciplined me. She says I’m becoming flippant again. And points out that  in the past, she would have thrashed me for such attitude.

Thinking about all this, writing it all down as part of my blog, has really helped give me some perspective on the issues.

It’s Thursday tomorrow, our once regular weekday for maintenance punishment. I need to really focus on whether or not I can suffer the mandatory 36 strokes of the thin Dragon. I tell myself it’s only a few minutes of suffering but it’s much more than that. As all of you in an flr know, it’s about a commitment to submission and accepting female authority in the home 24/7.

Whatever decision I make, I know there will be no going back. But I think most of you already know the likely outcome.

Tuesday, 1 May 2012

Punishment pants

When I’m sent upstairs to fetch the cane for punishment there’s one other item I always have to take out the wardrobe and put on. A pair of my punishment pants.

I have a love hate relationship with these see-through plastic pants. I love the feel of the cool, hard material against my bare flesh. I hate the fact that even though I pull the elastic waist band as high as it will go to present myself correctly dressed, I know that in a few minutes I’ll be bent over and Mistress will be pulling them down to cane my bare bottom.

The pants consist of copious material so even on the fittest, healthiest male, they would look incongruous. On me, being overeweight, they look hideous. They are baggy,  designed to be worn with a terry pad or folded toweling sheet for those with incontinence - or for those who enjoy an adult baby fetish.

We bought a pair initially to stop those little secretions from dribbling on to the carpet when I’m ‘on parade’ or bent over ‘the bench’. When I’m bent over, only the part of the pants covering my bottom are peeled back to present the bare flash for the cane. The front part of my body remains covered.

When I pull on my pants upstairs it heightens my senses – and I suppose increases the excitement of the impending punishment. But  once downstairs in the study, the excitement quickly turns to embarrassment when I’m stood in front of Mistress, cane laid across my palms to present the implement for her use. I cringe when she looks me up and down, me stood there with the high-waisted pants pulled as tight as they go, right up over my waistline.

But I suppose deep down it’s part of my submission, offering myself open for ridicule – though Mistress never makes comment of my clothing. Unless the pants are not pulled up tight.

I’ve asked her what she really thinks of me dressed like that and she accepts it as who I am and part of our punishment regime.

There are four such pants in the wardrobe. We bought them from Shop4pvc ( The first pair we bought were bloomers in a material called ‘Translucent Ultra Soft Euroflex Polyurethane’.
According to the Shop4pvc website, this space age Euroflex Polyurethane has a unique rubbery feel and is unaffected by both bodily fluids and lubricants which give them fantastic longevity.

I can concur with that. And they are certainly the softest of the four pairs.

Then we have a pair of Euroflex ultra-high waisted pull-on pants which are high-waisted with fully enclosed leg and waist elastics. The site says the wide crotch and full cut rear offer maximum protection whilst the forward facing legs achieve a comfortable fit. And that the fabulous pants are made even better by the fact that they are made in unique space age Euroflex Polyurethane which has a wonderful rubbery feel but I’ve found that the fabric is quite stiff.

Then I have two pairs of high-waisted snap-on pants, produced by Gary Manufacturing (as are all the pants - rather apt considering my blogging nom de plume) in white .007 thickness vinyl.

Shop4 pvc says they come with fully enclosed waist and leg elastics and deep welded side seams. There are six-snap popper fastenings per side and the forward facing legs ensure a comfortable fit. With wide crotch and full cut rear these pants offer maximum coverage for full protection.

These are my favourites. I like the look of the white pvc and the line of poppers down the sides. I have one pair in XL which are really loose and baggy and are really awful looking, and therefore ideal for humiliation punishment. The other pair in L, really my size, have very tight leg elastics, which make you constantly aware of the restriction the elastic has on the tops of the thighs.

Of course I’m painting a conflicting picture that these pants are humiliating to wear and only for punishment but if I’m honest, they have become part of our regime and it would be strange to present myself for punishment without wearing them.

The worrying thing on my mind however, is that Mistress will one day make me wear them under my normal clothes when we go outside the house. She’s mentioned it a couple of times but never actually insisted, but I fear the day she does because even the softest bloomers create quite a rustle when moving around while the rest crackle and creak. Even with trousers covering them, imagine the noise with each step!

(pix from Shop4pvc website)