We have a new rule in place—for every minute I'm late, I get one punishment cane stroke. The rule applies to all aspects; work, social gatherings, doctor appointments, bedtime, etc.
I'm hoping to actually break or improve this habit, so I'm self-reporting my tardiness when he's not there. Today I was two minutes late for an appointment and I texted him to let him know without him asking. I'm not trying to brat my way out it, and it's not within our bratting boundaries regardless.
There's already been a pattern of improvement. I started with 30 strokes for 30 minutes late, then four strokes for being four minutes late—plus 20 extra strokes and a mouth-soaping because I didn't listen. And now only two today when he gets home.
I am not an advocate for corporal punishment outside of a consenting dynamic in which the bottom asks for it explicitly. In my case, it's because I want to improve and I've initiated that improvement on my own, without relying on discipline but using it as a supplemental tool. Not to mention, we also both find domestic discipline to be extremely erotic and beneficial for our sex life.
Two days ago, when Wrex and I missed an important appointment and had to reschedule because I was 30 minutes late, he was disappointed. He wasn't angry with me. He didn't yell. When we got home, I asked if he would punish me for it. He didn't force the punishment on me, even though he had the authority to punish me for it within our negotiated total power exchange.
I asked for a punishment, but I didn't get to choose it. He spent about 5 minutes lecturing me and asking me questions about the value of my time versus other people's time, the reasons why he's disappointed, and he asked me to think about why this is consistently a problem for me while I waited upstairs for him.
I waited for close to 30 minutes without any distractions since he made me give him my phone before I went upstairs. When he came up, he had me bend over the bed, lifted my dress, removed my panties, and told me I was getting 30 with the cane. No warm-up. That was the most I have ever taken with that thing. I didn't think I could do it. But I was determined to try.
He had to spend some time getting me back into position, reminding me to keep my heels down and bottom up. But I did it. All 30 strokes. And I felt better.
Without our dynamic, I probably would have dwelled on my error longer than the 30 minutes he left me upstairs to think about it. I would have fixated on the fact that I disappointed him and I would have struggled to let it go easily. That's just how my brain works.
But after I took those 30 strokes, I forgave myself. We moved on together and had an amazing rest of the day without my thoughts being constantly tugged into an anxiety pit.
My clear head space allowed me to really think about the behavior and make a plan for improvement. I started to enter my appointments 15 minutes earlier in my calendar and set timers for getting ready so I don't lose track of time. And if I still manage to be late—and I will still manage to be late—Wrex helps reset me. He helps to motivate me to do better.
It's not a solution. And I can't recommend it for anyone else because it's my own dynamic and everything we do is fine-tuned to us specifically. But I can say that I'm very happy with it. My mind feels more at peace and I feel supported in my endeavor to improve myself.