The Spanking Writers

I got home last night. Easter Sunday. Plenty of chocolate waiting to be demolished. And no heating.

You may know that Haron is one of the posters on The Punishment Book, discussing those occasions on which she is on the receiving end of real-life discipline. She’s a good girl: really, she is. Absolutely decent, honest, hard working – but occasionally she has lapses that need correcting. Never anything malicious; she’s just a little prone to letting herself down.

The punishment scenes that merit entry onto the site aren’t usually kinky, or hot, or fun when they take place. But that are an important strand of the twine that binds the two of us so tightly together.

One of her responsibilities is keeping the gas meter topped up with cash. (I’m away for work so often that I’m not around enough to keep a regular eye on it). She forgot once, as one might: that met with a scolding but no more. She forgot again – and, as I was feeling generous, she was given a final warning rather than the spanking that she probably deserved.

The third time (for inevitable there was a third time), she was caned. However, the poor girl was so mortified at her mistake that I was convinced that even a light punishment would resolve the issue. Four gentle strokes, plenty of cuddles, and it was dealt with – problem solved, once and for all.

And then, last night. Back home, to an icily cold house, the gas meter flashing away at “£0.00”.

Haron’s not here, which makes it worse: she knows she’s in serious trouble, yet has a week to wait before facing the consequences. My mind keeps debating how to deal with it: I so want to be lenient, especially as we’ll have been apart for a couple of weeks. Lines? Corner time? Yet I’ve been very far from severe on three occasions now and it’s simply not worked.

I don’t think leniency is what she needs. Nor do I really feel that it’s the most compassionate option.