I'm getting caned tomorrow evening. 12 of the 18 strokes I'm owed for texting whilst driving.
I really, really don't want to be caned. I *hate* being caned.
But on the other hand I know that what I did was really, really stupid. I mean, I was texting while I was on the motorway. Doing 70 miles an hour. I'm pretty ashamed of that. You don't get much more idiotic than that. I could have got myself killed. Even worse, I could have killed someone else.
George asked me to email him what I was feeling knowing that I would be caned on Monday. This was what I responded.
"Crap.
Worried.
Honestly, I'm trying not to think about it at all.
I'm considering not opening the door to you.
I'm considering breaking the cane before you turn up.
I'm wondering what on earth makes me think I like being spanked. Or caned. Or disciplined.
I'm worried about having to go out straight after getting 12 (and let's be frank, probably extras. It's not like I'm good at staying in position).
I'm really, seriously thinking about losing the cane.
I'm scared."
So think of me and my poor bum on Monday night! (And yes, I know I deserve it)
1 hour ago
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2 comments:
Eliane, yes they will hurt, possibly a lot, you have my sympathy.
But rather a few hours of pain and discomfort than a lifetime crippled or guilt about an innocent life lost.
And you won't do again will you.
Warm hugs,
Paul.
My advice would be DON'T lose the cane .... like I was tempted to with the plimsoll on Wednesday as you know ;-)
I'll be thinking of you.
Olivia
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