Treatment for the blues

Some small but significant steps along the road to a return to Domestic Discipline have been made in our household in recent days. Financial and other worries had expunged marital sex and disciplined submission from both our minds since Christmas and I have not had much interest in updating this blog, other than the odd Sunday Spanklet.

I have kept my eye on the blogs of spanking people whom I have come to know and enjoyed what they were writing, even adding the odd comment sometimes,  but I could not get my head out of the quicksand of depression and failed to write anything useful myself.

Bit by bit, however, a sense of normalcy has returned to our lives so I decided that April would see a change in our affairs, if I could make it happen.

As Shelley put it,

"And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest."

I resolved to write to my wife and apologise for my gloom and doom attitude over the last few months and tell her that I had resolved to alter my ways. To make a start I wrote out a  “Dear Mistress” letter and sealed it in an envelope. On the day when I was supposed to travel on business I left the house after she had departed for work and placed the envelope on her dresser. I had also written out by hand this poem by Rumi and had arranged with a local florist for the card to go with some spring flowers to my wife’s office that same day.

Oh Beloved,
take me.
Liberate my soul.
Fill me with your love and
release me from the two worlds. 
If I set my heart on anything but you
let fire burn me from inside.

Oh Beloved,
take away what I want.
Take away what I do.
Take away what I need.
Take away everything
that takes me from you. 

As I waited for my plane at the airport I wondered what my wife’s reaction would be and I daydreamed myself to sleep on the plane imagining the spanking I might receive later in the week. I was assisted in my thoughts by the sight of the cabin crew’s nylon encased calves emerging from below the hem of their tight grey skirts. It was unlikely that they would be wearing stockings but the thought was appealing.

By the time I had landed there was an e mail from my wife on my Blackberry, thanking me for the flowers and the poem. She wished me a successful trip and told me to behave myself and not to go to bars. Since this was her first clear cut instruction to me in many months, I wondered if she had twigged what I was alluding to in the poem.

Later that day, when I was in my hotel room, I thought of her arriving home at about that time. She would probably not see the envelope for an hour or so. I showered and then lay on the bed doing what one does when one is alone. An hour later I left to meet my customer for dinner.

At about 9pm my phone buzzed with a text. The message was that she would call me in an hour and I should put the mobile on silent and not pick up the phone. When I got back to the hotel I should listen to my voicemail.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. It was all I could do to concentrate on the business and the customer but eventually I was back in my room. I washed and lay on the bed and with a glass of wine to hand. I could see her call on the phone and I called up the voicemail on 121 with the loudspeaker function on. I place the mobile on my pillow and lay back to listen. Her voice sounded sharp and unforgiving.

“First of all do not touch yourself at any time from now on, without my permission. I have read your letter and you are right that you have been a pain in the butt for weeks now and I should have done something about it before now. I did consider leaving you. However I can think of better ways of dealing with the situation. You will not drink anymore more alcohol from now on unless I allow it. I hope that is clear. You will come shopping with me on Friday and you will take me for lunch. You will then return home and do the chores which I have listed. On Saturday you will clean the house from top to bottom. I will spend the day with friends. At 5pm you will be thrashed. I will decide what will happen. In the evening we will go to Jo and Richards for dinner and you will be an exceptional attentive husband and pleasant company. On Sunday we will discuss what lies in store for you in the future. I have been doing reading about treating depression with a good caning so you should be careful what you wish for.  Now send me a text to say you have got this message, then go to sleep and leave your prick alone! “

As I lay back on the pillows I fingered a rather impressive erection and looked at the wine glass. I decided I did not need another drink so I picked up the phone and sent a text of acknowledgment. I took my hand away from my penis. In quick response came the message,

“Good. 30 with each of whatever I select. You are warned. Behave”

That was last week and now there is a tale to tell of this weekend.

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