Last night was significant. For the first time since we began this journey, I felt punished for real. The ritual has become more defined. He made me get the implements he was using (wooden spoon and the new wider but shorter belt), told me to strip off my pants and panties and sit and wait for him in the chair he was going to use, got on my knees in front of him while he lectured me, and finally the pronouncement of my punishment. I had asked him to push farther this time because I had missed three doses of medicine over a period of two days. Failure to take my medicine as prescribed can have detrimental and even life-threatening consequences (some of which I have already experienced and my family has had to deal with). Even though I had encouraged him to be more forceful I was still surprised when he announced it.
"I am going to start by giving you a good hand-spanking, followed immediately by a thorough spanking with the wooden spoon. This is to deal with the profanity. You will have some corner time and then we will deal with the missing medicine doses. You know how serious it is for you to take your medicine. I love you and I want you to remember to take it. I don't like thinking that I'm hurting you when I spank you, but I hate the pain I see you in when you are ill even more. So to show you that I am serious you will receive 3 sets of 10 strokes with the belt - one set for each missed dose, and you will count out every one ."
Did I mention that I was surprised? Shocked would be more accurate. I know some of you out there think that is no big deal, but it is definitely the most he has done to this point and represents real growth on his part of being the disciplinarian.
Then came the actual spanking. For the first time ever during the OTL hand/wooden spoon spanking I was beginning to wonder when he was going to stop. That wooden spoon is becoming something I dread. It feels like fire ants are biting my ass (that's the only profanity word I'm allowed to use). I almost welcomed corner time. Then came the belt. I counted out the first set and he paused for a couple of minutes while having me stay in position. I counted out the second set and began crying with #10. It wasn't so much a pain response as it was an emotional one. Since this was the first time I had cried during our spanking sessions, Steve said, "We'll stop". It was hard, but I told him that I really felt like he had thought out a well-deserved punishment and that I should get the third set. He delivered it, and I cried some more. He was shaken by the crying. Our aftercare consisted of snuggling together in the big chair and me reassuring and thanking him for disciplining me the way that he did. I named the blog "growing with domestic discipline" and that is exactly what happened last night.