Discipline: A first time for everything…

When I say I have been thinking about discipline for as long as I can remember, I mean that. I didn’t have the vocabulary or context when I was younger, to differentiate between the concepts of punishment and discipline, but if I had to sub-categorize my spanking fetish, I’d lodge it under discipline. When I first entered the scene, I had similar ideas of what relationships between spankos looked like as most probably do – my ideas were from stories and the fiction of the stories turned out to be just as much fiction in real life. The reality is, very few people successfully do DD or other discipline based kink dynamics, 24/7/365. I’d argue most don’t and if speaking candidly, they’d probably admit that. Some won’t – and those are also relationships that are likely unsustainable. I’ve talked about why a lot before but it boils down to the fact that we are all adults and even when giving up control and wanting to give up control, we still have to actually do life. Those it works for, are most aware of that, and allow flexibility.

Buckle up, this is going to be a long one.

So color 18 year old Marie surprised when a DD dynamic didn’t mimic the stories and blogs and fantasies I’d held dear for so long. My first LTR with a fellow spanko – Max – confused me so much. He rarely spanked me. We certainly weren’t using spanking and rules to outline our household and lives. I was quite young – he was not – and we were human. I found it was easier to contemplate the idea of any sort of discipline with someone who I wasn’t living with, but it had to be someone I knew well and who cared about me. Enter Rad. I was 20 and in massage school. I had always been a good student but I was floundering a bit living truly alone for the first time (Max and I had broken up), managing my time, and managing subjects I was not the strongest in (Biology, Neurology, Anatomy & Physiology). This is a situation where it had to come from inside me. I set goals for my grades and studying and success. Rad and I had been playing regularly for over a year at this point and we were close. I asked him for help holding me accountable.

The dynamic was simple but had some ground rules. No lying – it would never work without honesty and openness, this was not a bratting and hiding things agreement. In return, he was invested in my success, not just there to dole out consequences when it was necessary. He would regularly meet me after his own work day and before my evening classes started, to study with me. This was very much a disciplinary dynamic because of how it was setup. The motivation came from inside me and the consequences felt natural, instead of reactionary. As a way of formalizing this, we settled on a specific implement that was not used for fun – the London Tanner Irish School Strap. There were no warm-ups for consequences. Hand spanking was sometimes used, or his belt, but for falling short of the goals I set, it was the strap. Over the course of that year I probably got the strap a handful of times. The goal was not to be caught out, but held accountable, and that should really only be necessary occasionally. Although this wasn’t a dynamic that went on to be long term (I mean, I did eventually graduate!) the trust and closeness that came out of it, have been long lasting. I started massage school in 2009 and we are still in touch.

That tickled my brain, for sure. It was meaningful and deeply special. It was time limited, though. There wasn’t space at the time, for something longer term and it was risky to try and find someone. It’s vulnerable to open yourself up to that kind of relationship because it requires a bit of raw honesty – at least how I wanted it. I didn’t want a bedtime or screen time limits, I wasn’t interested in having my habits kept track of. Discipline felt deeper than that to me, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint it. I did not want it to be tied somehow to rules and habit tracking, but I had no model for this type of dynamic otherwise. How could I get this type of spanking and discipline without it being tied to behavior in some way? The bratty and provocative folks were always entering dynamics so it didn’t seem like I’d be able to figure it out.

The concept that came closest for the longest time, was maintenance spankings. These are typically disciplinary in style (vs “fun” spankings) and given regardless of behavior. They are not tied to punishment. They can be used as a means of regularly looking at behavior, but they take place no matter what. I knew of some scene friends over the years doing these as a weekly check-in and the idea was very appealing. I could continue to just be me and still need and want that sort of attention without misbehavior, I wouldn’t have to provoke or brat or create rules to break. I never had this though. I still don’t. Not even a close approximation. It’s possible and even likely that I never will. The biggest hurdle has always been finding someone similarly aligned.

It remains the only discipline dynamic I’ve ever had, and I definitely assumed I’d never find a form of discipline that worked for me.

Enter uniform discipline. I am not going to elaborate on the specifics, necessarily, because I think my post on the topic does a good job of delving into it. However, when I talk about the style of discipline that works for me, it still tends to baffle people.

So what I’d like to talk about is the first time I did discipline with Elephant, not Rad, because I think it’ll take away some of the bafflement – or at least explain how it works for me, if not why. I hope? It wasn’t in March 2024, when I wore my uniform and wrote the essay mentioned in that post above, but on November 3, 2023 (exactly 2 years ago – wild to think it was that long ago and how much has changed), and it was long distance. As I began gathering uniform items – my grey box pleat skirt, a regulation uniform shirt from a proper uniform shop, knickers, a primarily-navy tie that would go with the grey skirt, school t-bars, he said once I felt I had a complete uniform, he’d like to assign me lines, maybe to commemorate wearing it for the first time. I loved that idea. I’d actually never written lines before. Not because I was opposed, just because it simply never came up.

We talked a lot about the concept of discipline (especially in a strict, regulation, real school uniform) as a broad structure. This discipline is not about rules and breaking them but rather about using real insecurities and vulnerabilities, maybe even real-life moments, to create tone and headspace. That’s not to say I wouldn’t be open to genuine real-life discipline in terms of rules and commitments and expectations, but that’s not what this is or was about.

We talked about discipline being especially important for good girls because it’s easy for them to feel invisible and overlooked. Why? Because they often don’t get the same attention that naughty girls get. So a good girl needs strict and consistent discipline even more – precisely because she is good. She should feel seen, dealt with, and perhaps occasionally reminded of what would happen if she was not a good girl. My head was literally spinning. This hit the very core of my kink, it validated and shined light on feelings I’d had since I was at least a teenager but couldn’t quite pinpoint. The idea that you didn’t need to be a brat or provoke these types of spankings with arbitrary or silly rules was honestly mind blowing to me. I know that’s fun for a lot of people, but it stresses me out to even be playful/teasing like that unless I know someone very well. Being a good girl was fundamentally more familiar and resonant, and comfortable. There was also no need within this, for the facade or expectation, for another adult to manage my life for me with rules, etc.

We talked about line writing as affirmation, as a quiet, calm, and mindful task in and of itself. These are not the “I will not do X” type of lines you often see assigned as a punishment or as busy work. The lines in and of themselves are meaningful.

When I talk to people about my line writing and time in uniform, that is when they are most baffled. I don’t write them with multi-colored pens? I don’t write them upside down? I don’t try and insert some cheeky tidbit to see if it’ll be noticed? I am just as baffled by these urges, it seems, as they are by the fact that those ideas do not even cross my mind (actually, I did once joke that I might write in pink pen and I was firmly scolded and after that got an embarrassingly childish reminder to use a blue or black pen every time I wrote something for him). Intentionally sabotaging my lines goes against the very point of the exercise. Yes – there are rules for them and I liked these rules – it emphasized the importance of the task itself as discipline. There is not an expectation of perfection but rather mindfulness. I can cross out a line if I make a mistake and there are no consequences for such. There are however, consequences if I am not mindful and turn in lines that have obvious mistakes that I should have caught. Being held to appropriately high standards. Again: the idea of all this made my head spin. It wasn’t about anything to do with real-life behavior or rules or anything. It was wholly self-contained but so resonant. Could it work?

We picked a day and a time, Elephant told me exactly the uniform he wanted me to wear (it was rather simple and straight forward since I really only had the one at the time), how to wear my hair (smart braids, navy ribbons), and we did it. In this case, we used FaceTime and I didn’t really have any expectations for this, since the last time I did any distance-kink, Skype was barely functional let alone having something like FaceTime available. I had a few additional items nearby, as instructed: my ebony hairbrush, binder clips (for pinning my skirt, so I could avoid pointy safety pins), and a plain coconut fiber mat…for sitting on. I didn’t know anything in advance about how this time would go, other than that I’d be writing lines – not what the line would be or how many or consequences, etc. The ground rules were things we’d talked about so they weren’t surprising. I was not to touch my collar or tie (this remained a uniform rule) otherwise I’d sit on the mat. I was going to write one hundred lines (side note: this surprised me at the time but I am not sure it should have. 50 wouldn’t have felt like enough in terms of a mindful, focused amount of time and something like 200 would have been more akin to punishment). I was not to get up without permission and for anything other than going to the bathroom.

He outlined his expectations for the lines and I got started. He supervised the entire time. Being seen like that (and I don’t just meant because we were on FaceTime) was a very powerful headspace and I was surprised by how in my head he was. I admit I had some doubts about how this might all work at a distance, when the physical aspect of spanking feels so important, but the reality is, spanking is part of the discipline. An important part, to be sure, but it cannot stand on its own so the lack of physical proximity didn’t take away from the experience in any way. [As a note, the coconut fiber mat came into play because Elephant saw some physical aspect as important. He asked if using something like my ebony brush on myself would be meaningful – after thinking about it, and admitting I wasn’t sure because it had been a long time since I’d done any directed spanking, I said I did think being obedient would be meaningful. He liked that answer.] I struggled not to touch my heavily-starched collar and quite-snug tie, but was reminded that Elephant was seeing me, when he’d remind me to keep my hands away from them as I played with my braids or headphones. It wasn’t about catching me out, it wasn’t about a game – he genuinely wanted me to be in the moment and mindful about these things. But not only did he see me because he could see me on video, but he could see me and knew I was having a hard time. So when I wrote number 94 and my fingers grazed the side of my collar after I’d been playing with my braid, he saw that, too.

The consequence for touching my collar was to stop writing and sit on the mat, on my bare bottom, for 2 minutes. That meant standing up, getting the mat, lowering my panties, and sitting down. If I’m honest, the discomfort wasn’t so significant – it wasn’t enjoyable, but it was bearable, if only I didn’t move. What got into my head was first of all, it was a consequence, and second of all, as he watched me trying not to squirm (and told me to LOOK at him!), in my head about having touched my collar due to my fidgeting, he said, “It’s not very dignified is it? Sitting there on the mat, with your panties down?” Reader, I think I may have died inside. This was the most embarrassing and effective scolding I’d ever received – and it was so simple. It wasn’t for any personal failing or something egregious, but it wasn’t wrong. I whimpered. The two minutes were up, I rushed (sadly) through the last six lines. I was given a reprieve and sent to sit in the corner while he reviewed my lines.

I heard him print out the photos of them that I had sent. I blushed and was glad to be facing the corner. At one point, I could hear him counting. Oh no. Mistakes.

So, yes, the biggest issue with my lines was something so common to my writing, I didn’t notice until he pointed it out: I dot my lowercase letter i before writing the line for the letter, so the dot often runs into it. It was like that in the i’s in nearly every line. There were a few others he pointed out. I tried to hide my face. He told me to move my hands. No hiding – and they were too close to my collar and tie if I was touching my face. “These were not as good as I had been expecting.” I flushed. I felt like I was being scolded as though by a teacher. The consequences were a bit of scolding along those lines, a short directed spanking (something I hadn’t done since I was a literal teenager), a bit more time on the mat after the directed spanking (far more uncomfortable than the first time), and he finished with time in the corner, with my skirt pinned up out of the way at my hips.

When the final ten minutes of corner time was up, we were finished. We chatted briefly – truly about 10-15 minutes – got offline (it was bin day for him, after all, and he needed to bring the bins in!). In hindsight, that wasn’t enough “after care” for me, in terms of talking. We chatted about this, for the future, and other things that really worked. Since it was a first for us both with each other, and the video aspect heightened the intensity vs text alone, there was a learning curve. This was also such a new thing for me in general. I did a lot of processing. I immediately sat down and wrote about the entire scene (not this blog, but a retelling mostly for myself, and to process how I felt) and it is over 7000 words long. I was reconciling this new thing and finally getting to do it. I fell in love with this version of discipline and felt very connected to Elephant afterwards. The second time, a month later, felt a bit like an extension of the first. Maybe I’ll write about it sometime.

Giving vocabulary and context to something I had felt most of my life, was freeing and made me float. I literally have not been able to stop thinking about this kind of discipline since – a double edged sword.

It’s such a lovely thing, but it’s a unique thing, something not many people identify with, and now…now I am without it, without him. Ghosted. Thrown away like trash. My heart is broken and my kink feels shattered. Why is he making this choice? Why did I trust him? Why was I stupid enough to put myself in a position to get my heart broken after being so cautious for 17 years?

-M