Shall We Call it by a Name?

Good Morning friends, coffee and another banana bread is in the oven. Here's a little secret about our family. Aside from the dogs, nobody here cares much for bananas. We tend to roll hot and cold with the yellow fruit. This certainly will be last mouse buys for a while. Even though no one really cares for bananas the bread just never lasts. Today is alao Friday the 13th.

Honestly, still not sure mouse wants to post today and still processing the discussion and punishment with Daddy last night. It started after clearing away the breakfast dishes and checked her email. Daddy had sent mouse a message instructing her to write down the following expectation in her written journal. Yes, mouse calls it the penalty journal.

• mouse will serve Master when or where appropriate and trust him.

Since he didn't specify how many times to write it, mouse wrote it once. Really, she didn't need to write it more than that. Moving slowly through her chores, not so that she would fall behind, but to take up time, mouse was uncertain. There was a 'newness' to all this that felt strange to mouse. Really searching her mind she could think of other times she's hesitated or even balked at something he's done or told her to do. If he was testing mouse, it's obvious she failed.

Dinner was good and it seemed as though there was a weight on the clock. Time moved painfully slow. At last, the time arrived and mouse knocked very softly on his study door. So soft she hoped almost he wouldn't hear. He told her to enter and to remove her clothing.

From now on she will take her punishments nude he explained. So she did and put her clothing into a neat pile beside her and knelt. Cannot begin to explain how vulnerable mouse felt. He did put her at ease by asking many questions. Did she understand his directives? Was there something confusing to her? Did she trust him? After hearing mouse's replies, he decided two strokes with the cane for each hesitation was warranted. Then with that decided he moved ahead with other demerits. Back talking, eye rolling at an inappropriate time, not completing a task he'd assigned. Only at that did mouse speak up. There was a reason and she reminded him again what it was. He pulled up the expectations up on the computer and read the parts about deviating from the agenda and what is expected. So, what mouse thought to be a valid reason for not completing a task, turned out to be an excuse because she didn't tell him until he asked why it wasn't done.

Daddy's always been big on the whole there are reasons and excuses for this or that. Reasons are valid; excuses never are. He tallied out the remaining demerits, and decided 8 swats with crop and the strap would suffice. For a brief moment mouse thought she was getting off light, when he added, "16 with the cane."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks before she stood. He asked again if mouse understood why she was being punished and what could be done differently next time. By the time he had her kiss the crop, her mouth was completely dry. Crying mouse counted off each. Then he paused for mouse collect herself, had her kiss the leather strap, and again she cried out each. Feeling like her rear was burning mouse again thanked him. Again, he allowed her to collect herself. Then he presented the cane for her kiss.

At one point mouse called out 8 when she meant to say 7 and quickly cried out 7. At 10 she really hated him. He continued. By the time mouse got to 14 there were only sobs that rather resembled numbers. Sixteen was barely a whisper through more sobs. After he put the implements away, he gathered mouse into his arms and let her cry. He rubbed her bottom with his hand to soothe the fire.

The quiet sobs continued, the wet snuffles and still he held her. He had planned (he said this morning) on having mouse spend time in the corner but decided that was more than she could take. Thank you's flowed out of mouse's mouth.

"Oh Daddy I'm so sorry." mouse blurted out, and held onto him extra tight.

At that point he took a blanket and wrapped mouse up. Daddy continued to hold mouse as she told him over and over how sorry she was, in between the thanking him for correcting mouse. Finally he helped her up the stairs to our bedroom where she just broke down again into huge sobs. Inside she felt turned inside out, broken and desperate for approval.

He filled the tub, and climbed in with mouse, with her body against him. The sobs quieted but he continued to hold onto her. Stroking her hair. Whispering how proud he was of her.

This morning, mouse still feels bad about the need to be punished, in fact that hurts more than her bottom.