Mija’s Room

Category: amigas

Oasis 2025 – Day 1: Local at the Dog Park, Stranger at the Party

Posted on By Mija

0 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

As I mentioned yesterday, this isn’t my inaugural Labor Day-weekend spanking shindig—I’ve been doing the “spank-and-sun” combo for a couple decades. What is new, though, is that it’s the first one in 20+ years without Paul, and the very first with Sutti in tow. Her presence rewrote the itinerary entirely.

Even in a city that markets itself as a playground for strangers, a quick stop at the dog park turns you into an instant “local.” Suddenly I’m swapping leash tips and weather forecasts with people who assume we’ve lived here forever—while I’m still trying to plot the route back to the hotel with the fewest left-turn-arrow intersections.

Sutti isn’t just any service dog; she’s a whoodle (Wheaten Terrier × Poodle)—fluffy, low-shedding, and happily immune to the chaos that follows me. Within minutes she’d made friends with every ball-chasing Labradoodle in sight. It was still under 90 degrees and I felt good about our calm, canine-filled intermission. It’s good to get outside sometimes, you know? Then, one young boxer, a newcomer like us, planted a wet, enthusiastic lick square on my forehead. It felt affectionate at the time.

By the time I was back in my Zoom lecture, fresh iced coffee to hand, that lick had staged a coup. First a tingle, then a welt, then a neat little cluster of blisters. Turns out I’m really, really allergic to boxers. Ooops!


 

My last Zoom ended at 3:00 PM.—that indecisive hour between lunch and dinner. Given that I hadn’t even had breakfast, it hardly mattered. I met a friend at the deli in Circa, across from the Plaza. My forehead welts by then were obvious, and she mentioned them immediately. I’d been hoping only I could see them. Not the case. I told her about the boxer and she wisely suggested Benadryl.

We caught up, moving from my forehead to a surprisingly detailed hair-brush showdown back in my room. Both of us measure brushes in inches but brag about their weight in grams, as if this were a miniature Olympic lifting competition. You can insert your own imagined commentary. Soon enough, our conversation gave way to testing: jeans first, then panties, smacks light enough for a first night. No one wants to start out a party feeling like they’ve been whacked by a novice lumberjack. It was perfect—warm, companionable, a glow we both hinted we’d like to revisit later.

We said goodbyes with vague promises about the suite parties that evening. The plan was solid—until 9 p.m., when I followed her advice and took a Benadryl. By the time I’d showered, it’d kicked in. The next thing I knew, it was 6:30 a.m. and I was already gearing up for another round of dog-park runs and Zoom meetings.

Perhaps by Day 2 I’ll make it up to the suites.

I did manage to get my name badge and (gulp) an envelope containing my detention slip.

amigas A watercolor sketch of a huge stack of luggage and a small black dog,

Mija and Her Brave Furry Companion in the British Isles OR Five Suitcases, One Dog, and the Case for Simplicity

Posted on By Mija

6 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

Preview — To be read in BBC Radio 4 style

A summer adventure across the British Isles with Mija and her faithful furry Sutti girl: castles and cottages, uniforms and ferries, triumphs, tribulations, and luggage of mythic proportions. Part travelogue, part comeSutti-to-Kings-Crossdy of errors, and wholly a tale of old friends, new discoveries, and the surprising case for simplicity.

Chapter 1 — Long Beach: Paperwork, Panic, and Packing

(in which bureaucracy meets AuDHD and luggage multiplies like Gremlins)

The days before July 4th were chaos. The house had to be left in order: weeds pulled, rocks shifted, spiders relocated from their Olympic training ground. Errands multiplied — medications, safe deposit box, vaccinations (for Sutti, not me). I was just about keeping up when United rang with the kind of breezy cheer reserved for delivering ruin: “You’re missing a Heathrow Certificate for your service dog. No papers, no entry. Cargo is an option?”

“No, cargo is not an option.”

My voice probably cracked. I’d been so careful about everything to do with Sutti, working on it months in advance, working off a series of lists, paid a veteranery service to make sure her certifications were correct.1Turns out those were for her health. Heathrow needed to document *mine.* This had not been mentioned prior. Sigh.] 

Numbly I stood and listened to the nice woman from United outline what documents needed to be obtained and emailed and what would be required to get them. That they usually took a month or so to process, but I could try and get them done faster if I followed her instructions. These included calling Heathrow. “I can’t” I whispered.

She didn’t hear me.

“Email them to me when you have them. Then call so I know they’re there.” 

I sat staring at the clock. It was late on July 3rd — the Friday before the biggest holiday weekend in the U.S.2Businesses that had opened all had mostly closed by 12PM. — and suddenly I understood the particular horror of being told doing something isn’t impossible, but almost is. Traveling with my dog in the cabin into the UK in 18 hours wasn’t closed off entirely — it could be done, there is a process, but only with Herculean effort, panic, and possibly a pact with Satan. That was, in too many way, worse than an outright “no.” 

Because I was already exhausted and anxious to the point of burnout. I spent most of the previous year feeling stressed and stretched beyond breaking. By the time the semester ended being told I had to resubmit a single form caused tears and a sense of overwhelming despair.

 

I am not cargo.

Soo, not at my best. But this is Sutti. I couldn’t go without her — she needed to be on the plane. And not as cargo.

So began twelve frantic hours of bureaucratic hopscotch: PDFs, rabies certificates, microchip scans, vet letters, panic disorder paperwork, and, I swear, fragments of the Magna Carta. And so many phone calls.3Real calls. Like where I dialed and talked to people. People I didn’t know and weren’t expecting my call. Who were really helpful. At one point I tracked down Sutti’s trainer on his 25th anniversary trip to Paris.4Okay, but I didn’t know that’s where he was. Or why. By dawn, miracle of miracles, Heathrow approved her. When the LHR certificate finally landed in my inbox, ready to forward triumphantly to United, the sense of accomplishment I felt was on par with getting my doctorate. My vet’s office later told me no one they knew had ever flown a dog into the UK in the cabin of a commercial airliner. I credit academic-deadline stamina, indignation, and loyalty to a small dog who is not cargo.5I was also extremely fortunate that my employer had had me document Sutti’s training, skill, and my need for it so I already had letters from my doctors testifying to my CPTSD, severe anxiety, and panic disorder. So I guess I should thank my university’s HR office. Someday. The Heathrow Animal Reception Centre, brisk, friendly, helpful, and sensible (July 4th being just another day to them), were also exacting. (I had to call after each batch to find out what they needed next. Finally they determined that my paperwork was valid, Sutti s a service dog, but since her school isn’t on the official ADI list, I could either prove her training in 47 different ways, none possible from outside the UK, or pay £447 so she could enter with me.

I gave them my credit card number. It was 5AM and I still needed to pack. Yeah, my packing never stood a chance. Executive function is, for me, a single-use tool, and mine was entirely eaten by the paperwork marathon while it was going on. Once that fire was out, nothing was left for choosing clothes. So I defaulted to the only possible strategy: bring everything.6It was pointed out to me, that there was another choice. Bring nothing and buy the things I needed. Sensible in retrospect and would have proved far cheaper in the end, but I’m not lying when I say it never crossed my mind. Surprised? In the end I had two giant 60-pound7To be fair to myself one contained a 20 pound bag of Sutti’s Very Special Food (sold in the UK it turns out) and all her toys and stuff. suitcases, a carry-on roller, and a backpack. The Luggage Hydra Gremlin was born. And had been fed after dark.

More after the jump

(more…)

  • 1
    Turns out those were for her health. Heathrow needed to document *mine.* This had not been mentioned prior. Sigh.]
  • 2
    Businesses that had opened all had mostly closed by 12PM.
  • 3
    Real calls. Like where I dialed and talked to people. People I didn’t know and weren’t expecting my call. Who were really helpful.
  • 4
    Okay, but I didn’t know that’s where he was. Or why.
  • 5
    I was also extremely fortunate that my employer had had me document Sutti’s training, skill, and my need for it so I already had letters from my doctors testifying to my CPTSD, severe anxiety, and panic disorder. So I guess I should thank my university’s HR office. Someday.
  • 6
    It was pointed out to me, that there was another choice. Bring nothing and buy the things I needed. Sensible in retrospect and would have proved far cheaper in the end, but I’m not lying when I say it never crossed my mind. Surprised?
  • 7
    To be fair to myself one contained a 20 pound bag of Sutti’s Very Special Food (sold in the UK it turns out) and all her toys and stuff.

February Raffle Winner is: Natty!

Posted on By Mija

0 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

The magic number is 3.

The magic number is… 3!

 

First, and likely most important, February’s Raffle Results

::drum roll::

The number drawn from the random number generator was three (3) Meaning the  winner of the (almost) new London Tanner Boudoir Paddle is:

My beloved newsgroup and blogging friend, Natty.

Some may claim this is rigged favoritism given that she’s a long-time friend and former Punishment Book author, but I’ll note that Natty posted two comments during the required period so had two chances to win. Since last we saw each other, Natty has switched roles from bottom to top, so I don’t even need to feel guilty about sending her something that causes pain. I mean, causes her pain.

Natty: I’m excited to get to ship it off to you. Look for an email requesting your mailing address.

Look too for an update, hopefully in the next couple of days. It’s been one hell of a month.

That Escalated Quickly – Real Life (New Story!)

Posted on By Mija

0 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

woman in green Scottish school uniform reading a book
That’s the kilt and school desk. I did not wear either the tie or blazer today.

[Wanna win a new London Tanner paddle? One’s being raffled this month on this very blog. You enter by posting a comment to any post or page on the blog. Each new comment or reply to another comment gets you another entry.]

That Escalated Quickly (2025)

by Mija

M/F

[texting with a friend during a break in writing something super important1The academic job letter is the worst writing genre in the world. It manages to both be extremely boring AND incredibly high-stakes stressful at the same time. ]

Me:
I just had things escalate unexpectedly here.

Not Me:
Oh?

Not Me:
👀

Me: Yup. Here goes…

So, I’m wearing my Scottish uniform—the green one. I’m wearing a green plaid skirt, sweater, white shirt, and green knee socks. Paul had just got home, and after we’d unloaded the groceries, I was taking a break from what’s been a 14-hour workday (so far) by chilling in the living room while Paul worked on fixing the smoke detector. I realized I had about 20 minutes left on my break (more like five now).

I joked, “There’s not much point in having you guess my knicker color today.”

Paul goes, “They should be green.”

I was like, “Right,” and went back to Candy Crush.

Then he said, “Well, show me.”

Normally, he makes me stand up, touch my toes, and then he lifts my skirt to check if my knickers are the “right” color—before giving me/them about a dozen smacks with his hand.

Paul was on the other side of the room, and honestly, I was too lazy to actually stand up (major facepalm). So I quickly turned and pulled my legs up so my feet were over my head with my toes touching the cushion, thinking it’d be a cool “flashing” my knickers moment for him.

I was already amused with myself, so I was caught between giggling and laughing hysterically.

See where I’m going with this? Yeah, I didn’t really nail it.

I only meant to be in that legs-up position a second so he could see that my knickers were the classic bottle-green school ones, but there was one fatal flaw—I couldn’t see a thing because I was laughing so hard, and my chunky thighs were totally in my way.

Then Paul goes, “Don’t move,” and comes over to smack me on my knickers. I was still laughing. It didn’t hurt, his angle was off; plus, since I was in bottle green heavy cotton school knickers, it might have even hurt him more than me.

He said, “Don’t move,” again, and started rummaging through drawers (everything had been scattered on the dining room table over the weekend, but I’d tidied up on Monday before the dog trainer showed up. We do try not to scare the (presumably) vanilla folks.

Paul muttered, “I don’t know where anything is,” and told me to stay put.

I figured he was after our little paddle. Okay, maybe I secretly hoped he was, so I finally said, “I dumped everything in the school desk.”

With my thighs practically covering my face and no glasses on, I couldn’t really see or even hear what was happening. Did I mention I was laughing? I had no clue what he’d grabbed—or that he’d even made it back to the sofa—until that dreaded tawse landed.

[insert picture]

Yeah.

I did move then, but (I think) his left hand was still on my thighs, so instead of escaping I ended up pulling my legs back even further.

I tried not to move but ended up practically (okay, forget the practically) screaming, “Wait, no, no, wait!” as clearly as I could.

After five more screams, it was finally over.

Six of the best.

For now.

There was barely time for a hug and this text before my “back to work” alarm went off.

Now I’m back at my desk trying to work—well, typing this post out first, and then maybe doing some more actual work.

But seriously, that escalated quickly.

 

 

 

 

  • 1
    The academic job letter is the worst writing genre in the world. It manages to both be extremely boring AND incredibly high-stakes stressful at the same time.

About Uniforms Part 1: Introduction – Where Did That #dailyuniform come from?

Posted on By Mija

6 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

Happy February!1This started out as “Happy New Year.” I’ve been working on this damn post since November 2024. Here’s to hoping 2025 is better than we’re expecting.

Think of this as an introduction to a series of posts. The first, hopefully, of many, though frankly, I’ve never been one to finish multi-part stories. But, you know, it could happen so let’s be optimistic

This, much as is the case with spanking, may be a topic I can write about forever.

If you follow me on Twitter or Bluesky, you may have noticed that for several months, I’ve been posting (terrible) selfies wearing school uniforms, sometimes remembering to tag them with what I thought was my own made-up hashtag, #dailyuniform.2But of course, others use it for other stuff, too. Why? Well, frankly, I’ve been in the spanking scene since 1997. Even allowing for ones I’ve given away as my size changed, I’ve got A LOT of uniforms. Why not enjoy them?3Like spanking, uniform kink is a habit for me. The more I do it, the more I think about it, the more I want to indulge. And on and on.

The way I think about uniforms and what they mean to me has several facets. So, let’s get started with my uniform biography.

A bit of the inventory – December 2023 – apologies for the terrible lighting.

(more…)

  • 1
    This started out as “Happy New Year.” I’ve been working on this damn post since November 2024.
  • 2
    But of course, others use it for other stuff, too.
  • 3
    Like spanking, uniform kink is a habit for me. The more I do it, the more I think about it, the more I want to indulge. And on and on.

I’m Mija-Again on BlueSky Too

Posted on By Mija

0 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

 

Happy New Year!

Because The Site Formerly Known as Twitter, where I still have an account as eltercerojo, has become so difficult to use or follow, not to mention the political ego toy of the US’s newest 12-year-old Bond villain overlord, I’ve been playing with BlueSky where I’m mija-again.1I did try Mastadon but haven’t been able to get comfortable there

It’s a lot like Twitter used to be, including allowing third-party readers. As much as the politics of the “X” owner bothers me even more, I find the random shuffle Twitter seems to revert to every time I open it super frustrating. Being able to read my feed chronologically makes “tweeting” (or whatever one does on BlueSky) a lot more fun. It also helps me *stop* reading it.

There’s a fair few spanking folks;  if you’re there, I’d love to see you.

 

  • 1
    I did try Mastadon but haven’t been able to get comfortable there

Recommending: Sips and Smacks

Posted on By Mija

1 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

Adorable logo

Confession:

I’m a binge podcast listener. When I find one I like, especially when it’s one like Sips and Smacks that’s structured as a series of conversations between friends, I tend to go back to the first episode and listen chronologically. The Sips and Smacks podcast is currently perfectly suited for my listening style — there are 90 91 92 93-95 95 1I started this post a while ago. episodes, each about an hour.  That’s not so many that it’s impossible to ever catch up (I’m looking at you, Pen Addict), but more than enough to get a sense of how the show, and especially the relationships between the hosts, and the hosts and their guests, have evolved.

So, in case you haven’t guessed, Sips and Smacks is a podcast about spanking by two women, Adalia and Rex, in spanking / disciplinary relationships with their partners. There’s a heavy focus on both the Daddy/Little Girl and the submissive-domestic discipline2This element makes me feel like the podcast is an extension, or, better yet, maybe an evolution, of the late Punishment Book blog. end of the scene, but in the course of all the episodes, pretty much everything gets covered/touched on.

I found Sips and Smacks in a super embarrassing way….

(more…)

  • 1
    I started this post a while ago.
  • 2
    This element makes me feel like the podcast is an extension, or, better yet, maybe an evolution, of the late Punishment Book blog.

A Brief Interlude at Rosy Peaches OR Mija’s First Munch

Posted on By Mija

0 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

[I began writing this post on Thursday, September 26, the morning after the munch.]

When peaches meet…

Last night, I dashed out of the second-floor classroom and hurried down the stairs. The Uber I’d requested five minutes before the class ended was early — the app alerted me the driver was already there.1I’d thought about sneaking out early, but I’ve found it more difficult to pull that off now that I’m the professor. I was wearing what I think of as my “Barbie Flight Attendant” outfit – a pink plaid fitted jumper,2I’d received comments about “looking nice” all day on campus. That means I either did look nice or stood out like a sore thumb. Or maybe both. pink striped shirt, burgundy tights, black buckle docs, and white knickers no one could see. My hair (finally) is long enough to need clips to hold it back.

The waiting Uber took me to The Auld Fella for my first Rosy Peaches Munch. I arrived at 10:25, barely a half hour before the munch was scheduled to end. When I took a peek at the outdoor area reserved for the munch, I was surprised at how many people had come and were still there. It was a crowd — and like Oasis, a much more diverse one than I’d experienced ten years ago. I was glad to see that, but, you know, a crowd is still a crowd.

Those of you who know or have spent any time with me know that in-person (as opposed to online) social interaction is, to put it mildly, hard for me. For a brief moment, I considered retreating inside the pub and waiting there for Paul, who was scheduled to pick me up at 11. Fortunately, the endorphins from three hours of teaching caught up, and I walked in. A bare moment later, one of the organizers greeted me, asked my name, and began to introduce me. Here entered a haze of names and faces, including two lovely people I’d met at Oasis last month. Unfortunately, at this point, social overwhelm found me stumbling for conversation, and all names immediately left me.

Happily, at that point, I ended up in conversation with someone new3How new? She has no scene name yet. to the spanking scene, who made a point of telling me how great it was to meet another “hard-wired spanko,” and the two of us got into it; the rest of the munch, for me, receding into the background.

Talking with her for the brief half-hour we had, I found her obvious joy and wonder at the, brand new to her, spanking scene infectious. As I caught some of her emotion, it brought back the wonder, pleasure, and excitement I felt in those first few months after discovering this online4Confession: in 1996 when, inside my university email program, I found alt.sex.spanking I had a misapprehension that it was a real place… in Florida for some reason. More on that later… community with post-after-post about spanking. She was clearly having so much fun. It reminded me how much fun this scene can be. Seriously heart-lifting.

Time flew — it felt like only a few minutes later when I got a text from Paul saying he and our doggo were parked nearby whenever I was ready. Sure enough, it was already 11 and time to go.5Have I mentioned I’ve got a 10:30 PM bedtime? Yeah, well, I do. We walked out together, exchanging contact information, still pouring out our hearts, chatting until her Uber arrived. Scolding, discipline/punishment, “good girl”/”naughty girl,” dictionary word searches, hiding, being seen, painful vanilla relationships — it felt like all the topics from a weekend spanking party were captured and mentioned. As her ride pulled away, I remembered how fun talking in person about all things spanking with another spanko woman is. On the ride home, I struggled to keep my enthusiasm from boiling over.

Finally home and in bed, thinking about everything that had happened in an hour, happy and excited, I wished we’d had longer and hoped we could speak again soon. Friday morning, I woke up feeling all the joy, smiling at how much fun we’d had, plotting new adventures.

Friday, I also got whacked super hard with our London Tanner tawse and wrote lines at my new-old school desk. But that’s another story/post.

Image credit: https://pngimg.com/image/4902
  • 1
    I’d thought about sneaking out early, but I’ve found it more difficult to pull that off now that I’m the professor.
  • 2
    I’d received comments about “looking nice” all day on campus. That means I either did look nice or stood out like a sore thumb. Or maybe both.
  • 3
    How new? She has no scene name yet.
  • 4
    Confession: in 1996 when, inside my university email program, I found alt.sex.spanking I had a misapprehension that it was a real place… in Florida for some reason. More on that later…
  • 5
    Have I mentioned I’ve got a 10:30 PM bedtime? Yeah, well, I do.

Readers, Welcome – Also, What Is This Place?

Posted on By Mija

4 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

Hello…hello…Can you hear me?

<tap, tap>

….Is this thing on?

AI-generated art that looks pretty like me… on a good day.

Welcome. 🙂 In honor of Mija’s Room receiving its first, and so far only, comment (thank you, Natty!), here is my welcome to my room. In my imagination, this is my corner of The Treehouse, the virtual real estate in the town of alt.sex.spanking/soc.sexuality.spanking where Pablo and Mija once lived.

I’m not sure if many people are reading here yet — if you are, please leave a comment if you can — this blog and site are still taking shape. For a new site it’s trying to do a   – but is mostly going to be a place where I post about my flavors of the kink, musing about ToGI, and all things that, for me, connect to spanking.

One reason it’s trying to do a lot is I have a lot of writing from 1997-2015 that’s not on the ‘net at present. Before it was taken down, it was in three places:

Part of the front page of Pablo and Mija’s Treehouse before it was taken down.
  • Pablo and Mija’s Treehouse – started in 2001 as a Christmas gift from Paul to me. It housed both Paul’s writings, my writings, and a few that we wrote jointly.  They were mostly written for the newsgroups alt.sex.spanking and soc.sexuality.spanking.
  • el tercer ojo – my first blog, started on TypePad in the early 2000s. It originally was going to be a space where I wrote about kink, politics, education, and all the other areas of interest. It soon became clear that it was mostly going to focus on kink. This blog is a kinda extension of that one, I think.
  • The Punishment Book – started in 2004. It was a blog I started with a group of friends. We wrote (sporadically) about how discipline and punishment fit into our lives and relationships, with a lot of real-life accounts. Other than the newsgroup, it’s been my favorite writing community ever — there was a great group of readers and a lot of fun discussions.  I wrote more about it here and would like to find the time to write even more.

All three had to be taken down, literally overnight. The reasons are complicated and have to do with a vanilla friend who, several years ago, unexpectedly became the focus of some of the nastiest parts of the alt.right. They was doxxed on a right-wing website; their connections were combed over as well. Because we’d shared hotel rooms at conferences and we were known to be close friends, I feared my kink might get added to the already terrible attacks they were already experiencing. I couldn’t think of anything to do other than take everything down and erase as much of Mija from the web as I could — not an easy task since the sort of massive data analysis possible now was science fiction in 1997 when I started writing. It felt like Mija died — that we’d had to kill her off, though in truth, I wasn’t actively writing.

That band has thankfully moved on.  As I’ve come back into the scene, I’ve been surprised to hear from a number of people that The Treehouse was a significant site for them and that they miss it. I find that deeply moving because I miss it too, more than I realized. The Treehouse was the first place “Pablo and Mija” lived together. The domain “thetreehouse.net”  was our first “home.” Plus, I like having control over my stories, knowing that there weren’t ever going to be ads or the like.

So, the structure. Obviously, there are dated posts (this is one of them). Posts are new unless I mention somewhere in the subject line or first paragraph that it was posted earlier somewhere else.

At the top, under the header, or in the hamburger at the far right, you can find the pages that are not posts.

Home: This will take you back to the blog’s first page.

About: Basic facts about me as well as art credit  — this banner is an adaptation of a drawing by KayQy’s “Solitude Lineart” – shared under a Creative Commons license.

Glossary: I sooo like a good glossary. This is where I’m going to try to EXPLAIN IT ALL by describing or defining things I write about that may not be obvious to all readers. It will, of course, be chaotic and inconsistent.

Links: This page has links to sites of friends, sites where I read, and eventually, sites where I’ve bought things. Basically, anything kink-related I enjoy and recommend.

Stories: These are my stories, both fiction and real-life accounts, mostly from Pablo & Mija’s Treehouse and The Punishment Book. Most of my writings have been somewhere in the discipline/punishment genre, with a fair dose of school uniform stuff. Hopefully, these will eventually end up on The Treehouse 2.0.

I’m tempted to commit to some sort of posting frequency, but let’s be honest, that would be a piecrust promise. We’ll need to see how this goes.

Meantime, leave a comment if you can.

Do You Remember The Punishment Book?

Posted on By Mija

0 comment(s) so far. Please add yours!

PB blog circa 2011

Other than Pablo and Mija’s Treehouse and el tercer ojo, The Punishment Book was a spot Mija 1.0 lived on the web. It was a space I imagined and created in 2004, shortly after Paul and I moved to Santa Monica as a place to blog with a group of friends, all of us trying different ways to explore how discipline and punishment could work in our respective relationships. Its success was less due to me and more due to the wonderful writers who took part– all of us embracing reality and pushing back against the fantasy, something that ended up feeding the fantasy. PNB had its time and was already inactive when I had to take it off the ‘net. Looking at my now, I miss the decade and remember the space fondly.

Someday, with the permission of the other contributors, I’ll try and put the PB back up as an archive. The writings are worth saving. If you’re curious about what they were like, here’s an example of an entry. This one is about a tawsing. Some posts were more discussion-oriented. We had the most wonderful commenters on the web as far as I am concerned. 

The following was taken from a post written for the PB in 2010.

 

In late 2004, after Paul opened an account for us on Typepad and, after I played with a personal blog and got the hang of it, I wrote to a few friends. These were women I’d met online in the previous decade, but also got to know on different levels in real life. We were very different but had in common a love of writing and a fascination with the use of discipline and punishment in real-life relationships. You see, I had an idea — we could start a group blog (there weren’t many then) as a place to discuss the nitty-gritty of trying to make discipline relationships work in our respective “real” worlds. Because they’re such good friends they claimed to be both excited and flattered and were sure it would be great fun. From the start, I knew we should call it “The Punishment Book.”

February 2005, the blog entry officially opening and explaining The Punishment Book read:

Punishment books were records kept by schools and reformatories recording punishments given. Records were kept of who punishments were given to, how much and why each punishment had been given. Most often, though not always, the punishments were corporal.

Though we took our banners from scans of historical punishment books, that history is not what this blog is about. There will be accounts of punishments here, of course. The punishment book dot org is about punishment, especially spanking, being used to correct real-life behavior. This is something the authors of this site all have in common: the use of disciplinary punishments in our real lives to some degree or other. Not as role play, although some of us are role players (and in some cases, real life can feed role play). Not as foreplay, though some of us are into erotic spanking, but as part of our real lives and relationships. We’re all pretty funny (well, I mean, in so far as we amuse each other), but this isn’t a game. The issues of discipline and punishment are something seriously important to each of us.

There’s a lot of stuff about domestic discipline out there on the ‘net, but not much any of us felt related to our lives, for reasons that will eventually be discussed in some detail somewhere on this site. The blog is our attempt to explain it all.

Oh, and just in passing, each of us has our own opinions, our own lives, and at least slightly different takes on every issue. Assume each author is only speaking for herself, her own situation, and her point of view.

[back to the 2010 post]

While all of the above is still true, lots has changed since then — there have been marriages (including my own), interviews and articles, break-ups, reunions, graduations, relocations, illnesses, children, and some grieving too. Some you’ve seen here or on our individual blogs. Other changes, since this is just a window into our lives, have been private.

There has also been the addition of other friends, people we’ve come to know, again in our real lives. Something central to this blog is our need to keep it real, to know that the other authors are both celebrating and struggling with their relationships, not an idealized fantasy (there’s far too much of that on the ‘net already, especially with regard to “DD”*).

What have we discovered? I can’t speak for anyone but myself, but my first thoughts are:

  • This Thing We Do (TTWD) is hard, but enriching. There’s an intimacy to it that I recognize across our relationships.
  • TTWD doesn’t touch us the same way. Some (sparkle leaps to mind here) suffer from guilt, others, like me, not so much.
  • Our partners are all different people, but they share a courage and commitment that at times blows me away.
  • TTWD isn’t a magic cure to relationship woes. In my experience, the relationship needs to already have a solid foundation with good communication and trust. In fact, TTWD isn’t a magic cure, full stop.
  • It’s not easy to write when things aren’t working. Much as I always plan to share that too, I find it difficult/impossible to be that vulnerable. Maybe in the next 5 years?

There’s other stuff too, but my brain is full of memories of reading wonderful posts and discussions here. Which gets to something else — how much readers of the PB mean to all the authors here and how much we love knowing you’re reading, nodding along, disagreeing and thinking about these things too, whether this is your thing, you think it might be or it isn’t at all but you’re trying to understand. You’ve stuck with us even through silences that last months — something for which I’m very grateful.

So this entry is my Valentine to Zille, Bridget, Iris, DykeGrrl, Angie, sparkle, Natty, Haron (who find time to write here, have lives, and keep up their blogs too!) and you our Dear Readers. It’s been a fantastic five years.

Replies should list favorite wooden implements in honor of our the start of our fifth year. I’ll start with the ebony hairbrush as it holds a horrible fascination for me.

Thus ends our history lesson. If you’ve got memories of the old site or ideas and recommendations about current or new ones, please let me know. Other than the one linked at the top, I’ll be adding more of my entries to this blog. To find them look under the “Stories” menu at the top.