Underwear Dress Code

Did anybody spot the following news story:

"A Florida city has written common sense into its employee dress code: Wear underwear to work.

The Brooksville city council recently approved a revised dress code as part of its effort to update existing policies.

The revision instructs employees to observe "strict personal hygiene," including the use of deodorant. It lists "the observable lack of undergarments and exposed undergarments" as "unacceptable attire."

It also prohibits clothing with foul language or messages promoting drug use, "sexually provocative" garments, halter tops and piercings anywhere except the ears."

Suggestions please concerning inspection regimes, as in what methods of observation are appropriate, and suitable disciplinary measures for transgressors.

Attention to Detail

Last night was our second visit to Nimhneach. Seconds of anything are always quite different from first times. The awe, surprise and shock value of the whole big thing was replaced by a greater interest in the smaller details - who do I recognise from before, whose writing have I read on line, why am I here and what do I want to get out of it?

B had initial concerns that the look we had chosen for her was inappropriate and silly. Thankfully, that was disproved with three separate unsolicited complementary remarks in the first twenty minutes. Her selfmade open crotch period bloomers were particularly praised for the interchangeable ribbons round the ends of the legs, a detail allowing choices of colour for different occasions. I was also pleased with the lace trim detail she had spent the afternoon applying to her outer petticoat.

For me, a significant issue was resolving the dillema of whether my role at Nimhneah is that of an escorting domestic discipline top for B, or as a more generally available Dom. In truth, I knew even before I went, that I was going to feel disappointed, and probably something of a failure, if I went home from this trip without having explored my dominant persona with someone else in addition to my B.

That someone else turned out to be Caroline. It would be presumptuous of me to speculate what it was like for her, and anyway, she is vastly more experienced than I, and by her standards, I would imagine it was a brief and mild encounter. For me, however, the surprises were in the powerful impact of small details. It wasn't the application of flogger or birch, but rather her offer to remove her shirt and accepting my offer of help in undoing the buttons. I found myself focusing much more authority into my left hand in the small of her back than my right, the one swinging the tawse. Tucking the hem of her skirt into the waistband of her knickers was, inevitably, a shared intimacy but her standing quite still after we had finished, whilst I publically replaced and buttoned her shirt was, for me, the defining moment of authority, coming to public play, as I do, from a DD background which isn't really about play at all, but about obedience.

All I can say is thank you sincerely for helping me explore these details of my persona and letting me leave that night with my self confidence intact.

The Benefits of a Loose Skirt

I don't know how many other disciplining couples have discovered this, but we are definitely big fans of the nice swishy skirt.

Yes, a tightly denim wrapped buttock is certainly attention grabbing, and inviting to swat. But swat is about all you can do unless all geared up with toys and things. Most jeans have far too many rivets and studs to be comfortably hand spanked by a wimpy pain fearing top. But when you are required to wear a long flowing skirt, you can't complain when you are prohibited from wearing knickers, as B now is. To any outsider, this is modest demure apparel. But I know that I only have to come up beside my wife, caress the nape of her neck with my right hand, reach down with my other hand to heft the back of her skirt and bring my right hand, in a swinging arc, from neck to rump. If I drop her skirt again, it is all over in a flash, but she can still feel her bottom bare under the skirt and she knows it is instantly available to me again.

This availability is an important part of her voluntary submission. She will only wear knickers with my permission (there are some jobs which require trousers, or times of the month, that need knickers) but I will either agree before I go to work, or she will wait for my reply to a text if I am at work.

Don't misunderstand me, B has some lovely underwear, most of it bought by me. That was an earlier catharsis, as daunting as my first Nimhneach visit, my first solo trip to THAT part of the department store. It felt just like the famous Fr. Ted scene, distinctly kinky.

I know from several blogs that many women regard buying underwear, sexy or comfortable, as one of their indulgent private treats. My wife has adopted her submission to the point that she not only wears the knickers I choose for her, but she only wears them at the times of my choosing.

This is one of our beautiful shared intimacies, intimacies that keep us alert to our respective roles even when we are apart.

This Hurt Me More Than It Hurt You

or - Don't Try This At Home

Woke up this morning with a really sore right hand. Painful knuckles and wrist with little stabbing sensations into the arm when I flexed my wrist. Tried to think what it could be. Definitely wasn't the pins and needles you get when you sleep on top of your hand and the nerves wake up as the blood flow returns.

When I got up, I thought the back of my right hand looked swollen and puffy and B confirmed that it was a darker red than the left. Then I remembered the playful spanking I had given B the night before. Because of our relative positions at the time, I had tried a few swats with the back of my hand.

B certainly had no after effects this morning and confirmed that they really didn't hurt much at the time. Well, they didn't hurt me much at the time, but its a different story this morning, and I don't think I'll type much more for a while.

You've heard of Tennis Elbow, well I've got Backhand Spanker's Wrist.

Writing Lines

I recently had some discussion with Eliane about writing lines, so I thought I would post some lines of my own. I can't remember where I read about this, but somebody's blog suggested a technique for improving one's caning skills. The results, with B as the model, now adorn my banner (and are my Twitter tag).

The proposal was to require ones sub to wear black knickers, any knickers are something of a novelty for B nowdays. Applying chalk to the cane, rather like a snooker player, but laterally rather than end on, allowed the results of my efforts to be graphically displayed in real time. This is a distinct training improvement over waiting for the red and white tramlines to develop, film like, over the ensuing minutes.

This picture was of my first efforts using this training aid (an aid for me rather than her) and I was quite pleased with the results. There is something satisfyingly schoolroomish about black cotton knickers, canes and chalk, don't you think.