When Sir's Away, His Pet Gets Stressed

As some of you may know, I've not been working with Sir for long.  We only just met at the end of November. But things have been going very well.

And by that, specifically, I mean that I've been accomplishing all my goals, almost 100% of the time since he's been disciplining me.  The results have been tremendously satisfying, to say the least.

Now, Sir doesn't micromanage me, but he keeps me on task. I check in with him often and he advises me on things throughout the day, encourages me and praises me; he also spanks me and gives me cornertime when necessary, or just for maintenance, whichever is warranted at the moment.

I've come to really rely on his discipline.

So when he's too busy to spend a lot of time helping me during the day, I'm learning to ask myself


"WWSHMD?" ("What would Sir have me do?")

That question served me well today.

To cut a long story (just ask Sir) short, suffice it to say that one of my problems is losing things. It's something I've struggled with all my life. It's something I'm working on.  This morning, I thought that I'd lost a pair of earrings that my mother bought me for my birthday last week. I was extremely frustrated myself, and was spiraling into panic mode.

I knew Sir was unavailable for consultation. 

So I asked myself "WWSHMD?" 

"Breathe, Pet." That's the first thing he'd say. 

Once I did that, I realized that my frenzy wasn't helping. I knew he'd be available later. Should I spend hours freaking out and crying, or just get on with my day and talk with him about it later?

Well, that seemed an easy question to answer.

So I did laundry, did yoga, took care of the dog and cat.  I was feeling pretty good about my choice.

And then, lo and behold, when putting away my undies, what do I discover but said earrings! In my panty drawer!  It had been open a centimeter or so last night, and my naughty little cat had knocked them into the drawer.

I had been rewarded by fate.

I felt like Superwoman.


xoxoxoxxo
Libby

Ooh, I Like this Krampus Fellow...

Well, Friends, Pink has done it again.  With her wonderful entry about Krampus, she has enlightened me on a subject about which I knew nothing. 


Krampus!


The wicked antithesis of Santa. 
 
The absolute stripping of him from Christmas here seems to me to exemplify a core difference between Europe and the States. 


America has a tradition of walking on eggshells around all things sexy and dark.  


But denying the darkness doesn't make it go away, now, does it?

 So today, I'm celebrating Krampus, a tradition that should be reinstated in America.


And thanks, Pink, for introducing us!


xoxoxox
Libby

Spanking City of the Day: Bury Saint Edmunds, Norfolk

Oh, how I love my UK readers!

Today's daily spanking city is...

Bury Saint Edmunds, Norfolk

But I must ask, who is Poor Saint Edmunds, and why was he buried there?  I do hope at least he'd already died, at least. 

Spanking City of the Day: Bronx, New York

Libby loves New York. All of it.

But today, I salute The Bronx.

Today's Spanking City!

Huzzah, Bronx! Boogie down, indeed!

xxoxoox

Libby

Daily Spanking Privilege Goes To....Manchester!

The home of Manchester United is, I think, rather full of spankos. Every day I have several visitors from there. 

Today, I salute Manchester, England.

Spank on, Manchester!

Some Thoughts on Consent...

There's been a lot of talk in Spanko-blog Land lately about consent.  How much do we, as spankees, give? There've been excellent discussions elsewhere on this  (especially at My Bottom Smarts) . 

All of this talk of consent happened to coincide with something that happened between Sir and me. 


In a nutshell, I lost my bank card. 


Just one of those irritating things that happen that take half a day to get cleared up. 


But the bottom line is, I lost it. It didn't get stolen, the dog didn't eat it, I just lost it. 


I mentioned it to Sir, in an offhanded way while we were discussing my plans for the day.  It didn't occur to me that I'd be punished for it. I'm an autonomous person. Though Sir keeps me on a short leash (not literally. At least not yet.) regarding things we've negotiated (mostly domestic things), my money and banking habits is not something we've discussed. 

Sir was very kind and concerned about me fixing the problem, but informed me that I would be punished once it was straightened out. 


Now, fellow imps, I know you'll understand when I admit that the first thing that went through my head was "the hell I will." OF COURSE I didn't say that, but it is the first thing I thought. So what DID I say? I said, "Yes, Sir." He's the only person in the world to whom I would have said that. 

Later, in the course of conversation, I mentioned, very politely, that I didn't think I should be punished for what happened, but that I knew it didn't matter because his word goes. He very graciously asked me to explain my thoughts. I did. He thanked me for telling him and told me to be prepared for punishment later this week.


I said "Thank you."

That, to me, is consent.

Spanking City of the Day: Florence, Italy

Today's Visitor of the Day was viewing my humble blog from the beautiful city of Florence, Italy. 

With all the wonders of Renaissance art to view, I'm so flattered that a Florentine has instead chosen to turn his or her attention to me for a few moments.

Florence, Italy, I salute you!