My dear Mistress Scarlet
What an honour and a pleasure to be featured so prominently on your adorable blog!
I have one additional tweak to the system outlined above, which I will mention because I propose to modify it still further according to a suggestion you made a few posts ago.
Occasionally I repeat the guessing exercise at the end of the punishment. Sometimes this merely takes the form of a question as to whether skivvy deserves extra and additional strokes, perhaps to reflect excessive whining and fuss during the punishment itself (perhaps a little unfair, Mistress Scarlet, as I do actually gain considerable pleasure from tears and frantic pleading – but fairness is not a feature of skivvy’s disciplinary regime). Again, I do not cheat: I will write my own opinion on a piece of paper and place it face down in front of him, just below his head where the floorboards are so magnificently stained with a rich, deep glow from the frequent application of copious tears, over many years of our blissfully happy marriage.
This judgement may well be ‘zero’. Indeed, it usually is. However, he is free to request more if he believes he deserves it. After he has stammered out his own suggestion, I sometimes like to discuss it with him: exploring the reasoning behind his request for – for example – six extra strokes, before allowing him to see my own opinion on the matter. Of course, the usual asymmetry applies.
More usually, however, the discussion concerns his post-thrashing corner time. When a serious beating is needed – I am not talking here about a quick bend-over for a few strokes of some convenient implement before resuming chores – there are always three stages: written punishment, the beating itself and then some post-beating thinking time, typically in the corner with his hands on his head. I lightly tie his thumbs with a ribbon and place a glass Christmas ornament on top of his folded hands, so I can be sure he will not stir. The ornaments are cheap and smash easily – I make sure I keep plenty in, as they are hard to find out of season and nothing else works so well.
We usually play the same guessing game – there is so much drudgery in his life, after all, I expect he enjoys the opportunity to play a little game like this. I’ll admit I do not know that, as I have never asked him, but I expect he would agree with me that these games bring a little joy into what is his often rather dismal existence. I fact, I am sure he would.
I write a duration on a piece of paper and fix it to the wall in front of his face, blank side out. He then tells me his own estimate and I leave him to it. I then return, at the time he specified (unless unavoidably delayed for one reason or another, or unless I forget) and turn the card over. If it is less than he had requested, the corner time is over. If more… then he must deploy his skills in multiplying by three again. He has a degree in mathematics, so he is good at that. If the duration runs late into the night, then I would typically use a webcam and review on fast-forward in the morning, rather than relying on the glass ornament. Of course, any chores still remaining from the day must also be completed before bedtime, without any stinting.
However, Mistress Scarlet, thanks to your lovely suggestion: the next time he has a really serious beating, I will at the end produce a wooden chair, and place on it my doormat (I mean my real doormat, of course, not skivvy) which is made of thick, bristly and slightly irregular coir. His thinking time will be spent sitting on that: ribboned hands on head and two glass ornaments balanced in place, one on his folded hands and the other on his lap. My estimate will be fixed to the wall in front of him, as usual. Of course, he will have no idea what the ‘norm’ might be for a coir matt session. Fifteen minutes? One hour? Two hours? Maybe it should be less than the usual standing corner time, because I understand it can be quite uncomfortable (I wouldn’t know, of course: I have never tried it and never will). Or perhaps it should be longer – after all, he is sitting down.
Anyway: I will leave the decision to him, in the usual way.
Oh, I am so looking forward to this! I do hope it is not long until his next serious beating. Of course, I can simply impose one capriciously but I do like him to feel that a punishment is his own fault and that he could have avoided it if only he had acted differently. Regret can bring such sweet tears, even before any pain is applied. Hmm. What can he fail at? Perhaps I will wear a ruffled blouse today… a little 1980s perhaps, but it is a complete nightmare to iron properly. He rarely gets it right.
And then of course there must be consequences. Mustn’t there?
Yours in sincere sisterhood