As you may have read, I managed to rack up a total of nine days of punishment — spankings and other activities I hate. This isn’t for a single offense. I started out earning five days for repeatedly forgetting to remind Mrs. Lion of punishment days. Since I’ve had these days for years, there’s no excuse for not reminding her. She escalated from three days of spanking, which I got a couple of weeks ago, to the present five days. On top of that, this past weekend I managed to spill food on my shirt. This added two more days. Now the total was at seven. Monday, I spilled food again. Two more days.
I don’t think any of her sentences are unfair. They just seem to be grouping together. In a way, that’s not such a bad thing. She’s getting a chance to perfect her punishment techniques and to try out different paddles. We have a very large collection. For my part, I am learning too. I am learning to take rules much more seriously. Mrs. Lion and I both realize that the rules she is currently enforcing represent trivial matters. She created them to give us both opportunities to adapt to the disciplinary lifestyle we want.
The consequence for a single offense, like spilling on my shirt is relatively small. Under our new policy, I earn two daily spankings. That’s enough to make me think more than twice about repeating the offense. Repeating it within a short time (Mrs. Lion decides how long that short time is) increases the number of spankings I will earn. Fair enough. If I commit multiple offenses, I can end up with a long string of daily spankings. That’s the situation I’m in now.
This is my butt after Monday’s spanking. Click image to view larger.
Everyone seems to have their own image of what constitutes a spanking. Some people see them as long, brutal affairs that end up with the person being spanked bruised and in tears. Others picture it as a BDSM scene, where the net result is a dark red bottom and a sexually aroused pair of players. Mrs. Lion’s spankings are somewhere between those two. They definitely hurt. I’m left with a red bottom that hurts for some time after she’s done. I’m one of those people who don’t mark much and what marks I get, fade quickly.
So far, we both feel good about what’s happening. A little over a week of daily spankings is no fun for me, but it isn’t something that I dread so much I want to escape. I earned them. I know they’re not supposed to be fun and they’re not. But they aren’t so horrible that I’m suffering any lasting physical or emotional damage.
I think something positive is coming out of this. In a weird kind of way, spanking is becoming a “normal” part of our relationship, very much the same way that enforced male chastity has. It’s a little difficult to put into words. To me, at least, it feels like being spanked is an expected consequence of any infraction I commit. It happens often enough not to be notable. It’s not something to argue about or try to postpone. It’s just what happens if I slip up. I think Mrs. Lion is also seeing spanking me as a routine part of her job as my wife.
She even jokes about it sometimes. I sent her an email on Tuesday that I was concerned about how my boss might feel about some work I’ve been doing. Her reply was:
“And know that I’m behind you no matter what. (Might be with a paddle, but… )”
That sort of inside joke is a sign that there is no stress over our district in every relationship. If you read back in the blog a few years, you’ll see that Mrs. Lion’s feelings about spanking me were quite different. She didn’t consider spanking a routine part of her life and she actively disliked the idea of hurting me. I’m sure she still doesn’t like hurting me, but she understands and accepts that in her role, spanking me, whether it hurts or not, is an expected routine chore.
We have some readers who consider that consider my spankings a form of domestic abuse. It absolutely isn’t. I asked Mrs. Lion to take on this role. Anyone who has read this blog for some time knows that I encourage her to become stricter with me. I am eternally grateful that she has worked very hard to perfect her role as my disciplining wife.
I think you either get it or you don’t. It’s difficult for some people to understand why I would encourage my wife to be a disciplinarian. I think we both benefit greatly as a result of our disciplinary relationship. You may think we’re crazy; perhaps we are. We are happy though. Very happy.
I recognize that it seems peculiar for me to actively promote a situation where I receive unpleasant, painful punishment whenever my wife deems it necessary. I’m not alone. There are many couples who have discovered that serious pursuit of a disciplinary relationship, in our case with the wife as disciplinarian, adds to the happiness of a marriage. Lots of theories exist about why this is true. I’ve written about my ideas. I don’t know if they’re correct. What I do know is that what we are doing works.
What we’ve done is to set up a structure inside our marriage that resolves situations that would otherwise create friction and arguments. I’m not talking about spilling food on my shirt or failing to remind my wife of punishment days. I’m talking about those other things couples can get stuck on. You know, squeezing the toothpaste from the middle of the tube. Annoying, inconvenient problems.
It takes no time to convert a minor annoyance into a rule that will make the problem disappear. We are not naïve enough to believe that just by making a rule, my behavior will change. It won’t. But, breaking a rule gets me punished. The punishment serves to teach me and provides Mrs. Lion with the feeling that she has done something to help me change.
Administering punishment is a great pressure release valve. Believe it or not, receiving punishment has the same beneficial effect for me. We don’t let things fester. Mrs. Lion doesn’t need a rule to punish me. If I do something that annoys her, she can punish me for doing that. She might also create an explicit rule if she thinks it will help me improve my behavior. But it’s not necessary.
Think about how you handle situations like squeezing the toothpaste from the middle of the tube. Chances are pretty good you ignore them and they quietly bubble in the background until one day you get disproportionately angry about something else. I think we’ve avoided that trap. In the process, our mutual trust and love have grown. Five years ago I would have never believed that a wooden paddle would be a symbol of our harmony and love.