A House with Consequences

A few months ago, Daddy sat me down and we talked about discipline. More specifically, we discussed what each of us wanted from out relationship in regards to discipline and authority. I felt somewhat limited in my ability to come to the table though. After all, I had only been in one relationship before, and it was relatively vanilla. Luckily for me, Daddy really does always know best.

That's when he told me about his past boys and boyfriends. He shared some of the ways discipline was a part of these relationships, and explained to me what worked and didn't. Just as importantly, Daddy told me how he hoped to incorporate discipline into our relationship. I found our hopes for the relationship were quite similar.

In essence, we wanted to create a relationship and home where Daddy is in charge. Neither of us is bound by formal rules or codes. We simply live with the very basic and loving understanding that he's in charge. We would continue to act in ways that are organic for us, but always under his watchful eye.  And if and when he sees fit, I can be punished at his discretion whenever and for whatever cause he has.


This last part was something I felt ready for. So much so, that I unfortunately became slightly impatient. I was giddy at the idea of being given boundaries and held accountable for my behavior. So I did what any rude and impatient boy would do: kept bringing it up and pestering him about it. He told me in very specific words that he wanted to take things slowly, but patience has never been one of my virtues. So I waited, and waited, and began to doubt it would ever happen.


Until today. Coming in from a day of furniture shopping, Daddy and I decided to order dinner. He gave me four meal options. I guessed the first two might be, "Daddy's ass on a plate" and "Daddy's head on a plate". They were incorrect, and my fourth option became "A swift spanking and no dinner". My more bratty instincts kicked in right about now, and I requested the fourth option. He asked if I had a back up meal plan, and I just kept pushing him; committed to calling his bluff.

Well, he called mine. He walked into the bathroom, grabbed the bath brush, came back, grabbed me, put me over his knee, and spanked me. It couldn't have been more than ten swats in total, but BOY did they sting. My spanking was not only swift, but also clearly punitive. As someone who is quickly falling in love with spanking, I was shocked to see how clearly this spanking was not playful.

Afterward he sat me down and explained to me what just happened, and why. As it turns out, today is the first day of domestic discipline in the home. Daddy clearly thinks we're ready, and I'm eager to see what this new adventure holds for us.  Something tells me I'll have some trouble sitting down over the next few weeks.