Self Discipline

This odd figurine turned up when searching under the keyword "discipline" on eBay. Apparently, she is part of a line of figurines called Vintage Virtues. I appreciate gathering one's own birching twigs as being a vintage virtue. And she does it so happily! "Hurray, I am so excited to be gathering my own birching twigs that I went out barefoot to do it," says our little modicum of self discipline. Is she going to birch herself? Was the birching her idea? Is the true meaning of self discipline that self control is less important than admitting when one deserves punishment?

If so, I am a self-disciplinarian of unequaled measure! Even when it comes to my Internet "Favorites," I have a folder entitled Spank Me, with a subfolder of implement toy-stores called Beat Me. I manage to work the subject into most text message conversations with my husband during the day, and by the time we get to talk and see one another in the evening, I have all but turned myself over his knee. So much and so often do I beg for punishment that I think I may have made it impossible to actually be punished. After all, the best spanking stories are not exactly the ones in which the schoolgirl runs to the headmaster's office after misbehaving, calling out along the way, "Get out the long cane! I ought to be disciplined quite severely!"

Afterwards is a different story, of course. I just read a wonderful story called "Value for Money" (Hi R! Hope it's ok that I quote this. Didn't think you'd want your name in here, though!) in which the soundly punished girl says to the Headmaster after her punishment, "Thank you very much for caning my bare bottom. It was richly deserved." That acquiescence, that change of heart, is one of the elements of a good scene. If a change of heart were to occur after my pleading for a paddling (um, not really a paddling, please, Sir, it was just good alliteration), I would end up impertinent and outraged at the end. That sounds like a terrible ending for everyone.

The message I am attempting to learn here is that I'm probably not going to get what I want by asking for it. I can make implements aplenty arrive at our door (thank you Phil at Conventry and where on earth is our tawse, MC Customs? just in case anyone out there reads my blog), but putting them into my love's hand is seemingly something I have to earn by more than begging. I suppose this entry isn't helping any. Points (or demerits!) for honesty?

So. Perhaps I will try not to take the advice of this little vintage virtuoso so seriously. It's not about self discipline. It's about running amok and being terribly naughty and, well... letting the fates of flagellation take it from there. (Really, I just like alliteration.)