The Spanking Machine

I’ve always been inclined toward the metaphysical side of things. But it still blows my mind the way the Universe seems to engineer circumstances to guide one toward the fulfillment they need. I think you might agree, or at least give it some thought, when you read this story. It begins with the worst time of my life, Aunt Kay’s passing. My sorrow from having lost the amazing woman I no longer see every day is enormous.

Kay and I had always been passionate about helping couples achieve greater intimacy through the DWC Lifestyle. But she also cared deeply about the single men who reached out to her over the years. I know I truly felt for them as well. I remembered my years of not knowing how to find a spanking partner. It’s more than intimidating; it’s finding a needle in a haystack kind of quest. But there are many needles in the haystack even if it’s a daunting task. And then there were the older men, like me now, who wrote about losing their DWC life partner. I wished I could give some of those guys a hug.

Anyway what was Aunt Kay’s advice? Keep looking, communication is the only avenue to the goal, and she said there is no shame in engaging a professional disciplinarian - none at all. And when occasionally she suggested that someone consider one of those spanking machines, I honestly found it a bit pathetic.

The reason I began by alerting you to my metaphysical leanings is because I still speak to Aunt Kay’s Spirit. Not like some kind of Medium with a lot of flair and accoutrements. I just genuinely feel her at times and it’s so powerful, and tangible in the present, that I know she’s there. And beyond that, or mixed in with it, is how extremely well we understood one another. So I often “ask her” what to do about something and because I knew her so well, the answer comes to me.

Near the end we talked about my future discipline needs and she was adamant that I should not neglect them. She wished we were still part of an active DWC community because she would have preferred a DWC wife to get involved. But that’s simply not in the cards. She also specifically suggested a couple of professionals she knew and felt good about. But that didn’t really work out either. So when I found myself needy with no viable disciplinarians accessible, I swallowed my pride and ordered a spanking machine. The irony of how I had previously felt about such things in the past did not escape me.  Even though they were a practical recommendation in certain circumstances, I ultimately thought they were just very sad.

Now here’s where the part about the Universe engineering circumstances comes in. My original plan was to take my time learning how to use the thing and experience a few light sessions. It’s designed so you can attach almost any implement to it and adjust the intensity and speed. I was planning to begin with a couple of her lighter duty implements.

Then I was pulled over for really speeding – first time in years. I was driving her car (she had the nice fast one). I usually drive my much slower, economy hatchback. Unbelievably, even though Highway Patrolman said I was going much too fast, he let me off with a warning. After he departed I sat in the car to get my wits about me.  There’s a cute little stuffed frog with big eyes that she always kept on the console. It was staring up at me and I knew that Kay would not have let that incident slide. I knew there were going to be consequences, courtesy of the machine, the first time I used it.

I knew in that instant that my plan to get gradually acquainted with it was gone. The machine has settings for both speed and intensity and I knew I couldn’t allow myself to make it any less than she would have. I found myself experiencing that same dreadful nervousness that comes when a disciplinary session is inevitable.

It took a while to get the machine, with one of her favorite canes attached to it, set up just right. Then I got into position and activated it. The first strike of that little monster stung like the dickens. And given the speed I had set it to, the next ones came in rapid succession. I panicked; exactly in the way we do when a spanking begins – with a desperate, uncontrollable, urge to escape it. You know what I mean. There’s a reason why the woman locks your arm and restrains you with her leg when giving an OTK session. I know some men are stoic and can remain still during a session. I’m not one of them.

I chickened out and switched the machine off after four or five strokes. My bottom was screaming and I knew, without a doubt, that every stroke had caused a welt. But I knew that Aunt Kay would not have been lenient when it came to speeding. The last time she addressed that was many years ago when it cost us a lot of money and traffic school. When you hear the phrase “you’re going to set a spanking you’ll never forget”, it’s referring to one of those.

I very hesitantly turned the machine back on again and endured more strokes. I don’t know how many. But looking in the mirror later convinced me that she would have been satisfied.

I think this machine thing will open a whole new, and unexpected, chapter in my disciplinary life. It’s certainly unexplored territory for me; physically, mentally, and emotionally. It’s a very weird thing to be responsible for both sides of the DWC encounter.

By the way, there is a great video showing the machine deploying a cane on the site below.

https://www.spankermachine.com

RIP AUNT KAY

Aunt Kay has left this earth a better place and she surely left me a better person.  Some of you knew her in-person. But mostly she was an icon in the domestic discipline community.  In this brief farewell I want to share a few things so that when you think of her, I hope it will be with a more fully rounded viewpoint.

She was an exceptionally talented artist and left a substantial body of work. Her favorite subjects were, by far, animals and nature images. People regularly remarked at how life-like and almost “alive” they are. But her portraits are also beautiful. She also taught art to young children and was adored by them.

She was a spiritual person who knew, for a fact, that we are all just individual parts of one thing called “Life”.  She firmly believed that every person is valuable and important and she was committed to kindness and generosity. While you did not want to get on her bad side, she was not a judgemental person at all. She hated injustice and accepted people for who they were and encouraged people to fully live their life, and as a part of it, their fantasies.

She always said to embrace who you are without guilt or regret. And if you needed to be in a DWC relationship, you should have no more second thoughts about it than if you liked golf or fishing. The work she put into the Disciplinary Wives Club is best understood as just another part of her generosity. She wanted to liberate and educate people like us so that we could aspire to have fulfillment in the unique way that we need to.

If you never met her in real life, please take my word that we lost a truly great woman. She touched and changed lives in many ways, the DWC

being only one of them.

I’ll talk about myself and where my life goes in another post sometime. Right now it’s hard enough just to tell you this, typing through my misery.

Timed Spankings

Sands of Time

 “Sands of time” is one of those truly beautiful phrases someone created. The image of sand falling, grain by grain, inexorably from one bulb to the other is a perfect metaphor for life itself. At least that is how I experience when I am writing or philosophizing. However, when that hourglass-shaped device is measuring the duration of a spanking it changes into something entirely unpoetic. It becomes demon-like – unstoppable and unforgiving. This essay is about the practice of timed spankings.

My wife and I had already been in a robust DWC relationship for many years when we met another couple (she was one of the most diligent disciplinarians I have met) and we learned that the wife used a mechanical kitchen timer when she administered punishment. I never discovered exactly how she determined what the length of a particular spanking should be. But I did find out, courtesy of her, what it was like to have something marking off the time of a spanking. It was infuriating how ridiculously slowly time seemed to move

.

Quite a few years passed until one day my wife just plunked a tiny sand timer down in front of me before a spanking. I was already in the position she wanted and it was not discussion time. That little three-minute timer was a fiendish reminder of the woman with the kitchen timer. “A measly three minutes” you think? If you every try it with a timer let me know that you think then. Three minutes of vigorous, uninterrupted bathbrushing left me very repentant and marked for almost two weeks.

Being on the receiving end, I really don’t know what the psychology is like for the disciplinarian. But my suspicion is that working against the clock pumps up something akin to competitive juices and it sure felt like she accelerated and amplified everything as it came closer to the end. Like that last big push right before the finish line.

We have a very inexpensive set of five little plastic timers in the kitchen. They are calibrated for; one, two, three, five, and ten minutes. I use them all the time for cooking and she knows exactly where to find them.

Timing of spankings is not a regular part of what she seems to prefer. But the little monsters show up every so often; again don’t ask me why. Maybe she thinks I need variety to keep things interesting. Or maybe she needs the variety. But knowing her, if I were to ask about it she would probably have some incredible reasoning that would blow my mind. Oh I am sure she would not mind in the least if I asked. But when I ask about things like that it brings them further to her attention and they “show up” more often.

Well, even though I have already used up enough of your “time” for today, since I began with references to poetry I will indulge myself. I deeply appreciate you taking a few moments to visit with me and I extend to you this good wish

“May the sands of time run gently through the hourglass of your life.”  Me

Session at the School House

I just came from an unexpected follow-up to a conversation about “no more spanking” I had with Aunt Kay. I described it in my previous post. But in a nutshell; just in case you haven’t read the earlier one I’ll sum it up.  After more than twenty-five years in a DWC marriage I figured I had more or less out grown that kind of stuff and I thought we should move on from it. She didn’t even discuss it. She just said “NO!”

Things are great between us. And truth be told, I have been especially well behaved and dedicated to taking care of her. This afternoon she suggested that we would be having some fun later and from her innuendos I understood it would involve spanking. But I wasn’t really worried.

Well, it was fun for the most part. But now that the “fun” is over I am looking back and appreciating her “devious mind” and how lucky I am to have her. She surprised me by doing a role play. The last time we did role play was with another couple - well a long time ago. Today's role play began when I got a note that I was to report to the school Principal.(She was fabulously in her role, by the way.)

During the lecture she articulated why I was going to get punished. She explained to her dim-witted bad boy that sometimes you have to do things you don’t like because it’s part of keeping healthy. She pointed out that I go to the dentist, even though I know it will hurt, because it’s part of a healthy life routine. There was more to the lecture. But that was the part that is relevant to this post.

Once I was bent over an artistically designed pillow and blanket pile on the bed, the spanking began. The principal doesn’t have a great deal of time to waste. So she uses a razor Strop. Aunt Kay had to work creatively around certain limitations. But for sure my butt would never have known it. The Principal must have been morally outraged or something. Very energetic!

Afterwards I had to write “Spanking is Good for Me” many times filling two large whiteboards - and not allowed to write big. It almost drove me crazy. It was genuinely punishment.

Now that I have a moment after the action to think about it. Duh. I got the message. She wanted to be sure that the ship was righted again and that the crew (me) was ship-shape. I have a feeling I have not heard the last of this.

Well, that was a chance for me to share with the Blog in real-time. It’s the next best thing to being with another DWC couple or talking with one of my old DWC buddies.

No More Spankings?

When we talked about what the New Year might hold for us, I broached the subject that maybe it was time to "move on past the spanking thing". I was serious about it. I really believe one needs to be open to change and it felt right.

Besides, without going into private details, Aunt Kay has an injury that definitely inhibits a lot of things. Plus we really don't seem to have the DWC friends within a viable geographic distance that we used to. I suppose I would not have even have thought to make such a suggestion if our DWC friends were around. (Something about knowing it's possible I might be sent to an Auntie or have a visit from one of them).

Anyway, my suggestion about putting the disciplinary aspect on the shelf was a very short conversation. It lasted about a minute and consisted of “No” and “Never”. So I’m going to consider that as a good thing. At this point in life I realize that she knows best.

Happy New Year to all of you who make my life richer by spending a few minutes with me once in a while.