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