Sunday, June 18, 2017

Trouble in Paradise

Last weekend, Jason and I had an argument. 

It wasn’t even a bad argument. Most of the time, we can sort out our differences before we get to the point of arguing. I used to have an awful temper, and I still do lose it sometimes, but it will be five years this fall that we started all this. And five years focusing on learning more self control and depending on his leadership has changed things. 

Assume the positive, he says. Always assume the positive. So I try. When someone upsets me, I try to think about things from their point of view. I try to assume positive motives, and focus on what I can control, rather than trying to control the actions of someone else. And I try to do this for Jason as well. I don’t always do this well, though. Sometimes, I fail at this. 

When I’m upset with him, I try to assume positive motives, and I try to see things from his point of view. I ask myself what I can do on my own. I pray. 

So, when we got into a disagreement, that's what I did. I don’t remember the exact details of what happened, but I know that I got in trouble and I did, by our standards, deserve to be punished. But, we don’t always get the privacy we need, and we didn’t have it. He told me to go up to bed and rest a bit. 

I knew in my mind that Jason was feeling pretty upset about what had happened, as it didn’t just involve me, but someone else as well. So I gave him that space. He simply was not in the place of being ready to meet my needs. 

He’s a strict dominant, and he’s very attentive, but he can’t always meet my needs with perfection. 

It’s not always about me. 

We have kids. We have extended family. We both have jobs, and responsibilities. So that night, I was pretty stressed out and I really needed him, but he wasn’t in the place where he could really get into a dominant head space. So, he didn’t. 

That didn’t go over so well with me. I gave him space, but I was hurt. He said a few things that dragged up some of my most painful fears. He didn’t mean to. But it happened. And mentally…I just quit. 

When we talked the next day, I simply decided I could not do it today, and I told him, “Sometimes, like last night, you can’t dom. Well today, I can’t submit. I don’t want to. So I’m not going to.” 

Sounds bratty, doesn’t it? But I wasn’t trying to manipulate or control him. I was hurt, deeply, and the very thought of submitting – of making myself become vulnerable again – just became all too much.

And I really, really felt I couldn't do it.

“That’s not going to go over so well for you,” he said. “You know you need this, and you know you’re going to get in trouble.” 

I shook my head and turned away from him. The very idea of going about my day without submitting hurt like hell, because I’m happiest when this works well, I’m submitted to him and he holds me accountable. When I meet his needs, and he meets mine. 
Finally, he got up and left the room, saying on his way out, “Fine, then. Don’t submit. Let’s see how this goes.” 

Gosh, I was hurting inside. I’d hurt myself physically the week before, and being sidelined had me grumpy and out of sorts, and the reality is, it takes a lot of self control and energy to submit, just like it takes to dom. Stress, illness, and outside circumstance often affect our ability to do this well. And sometimes? We don’t do it.

I’ve had readers tell us we were the perfect example of a D/s couple. No, we aren’t. We’re just normal people. We make mistakes. We hurt each other. D/s isn’t lived perfectly here. 

It is our True North, though. It is what brings us back to center when things go astray.

So after I talked to Jason, I calmed myself down and made a to-do list of what had to be done. I knew, deep down in my heart, that eventually things would be right again. I knew that would likely involve me going over his lap and likely getting a good, hard spanking to get me back into my submissive head space. I knew this wasn’t the end for us. We thrive under these roles. And a little blip along the way doesn’t mean it’s over. So I didn’t despair of things ever being right again. 

I just needed to step off the train. 

A little while later, Jason came in the room, came over to me and said, “We need to talk.” 

I sighed. I didn’t want to talk. But I do want to trust him. And I wanted to make things right again. And even though I didn’t want to submit, I didn’t want to be mean to him, either. 

“Okay,” I said. (Notice, no “daddy.”)

He looked down at me, and he wasn’t angry, but just very gentle. 

“I was selfish,” he said. “You were selfish. We both were. Let’s just admit that and put this behind us.” I got a little choked up then, because I knew he was right. 

And just like that, we picked up where we left off. He had me come to the side of the bed and go over my rules. I went over his lap. He spanked me and I cried, good and hard. He held me. We both apologized. He kissed me, and our day went on. 

Gosh, the day was hard though. My life is so heavily submersed in this lifestyle. Between blogging and writing and friends I interact with, I live and breathe this lifestyle. And I needed to step back a bit, refocus, and keep my eyes on Jason. 

I needed to clear my mind and focus nowhere but here, on our relationship, our dynamic. 

I needed to remind myself that this isn’t all about me

And when we mess things up, we simply need to remind each other that it’s okay to say I was wrong. 

It’s okay to say I’m sorry. 

Because in the end, we’re just two people who make mistakes and pick ourselves back up again, two people who love each other so much that we will keep on putting the focus back on each other even when we don’t want to, willing to reap the joy even through pain.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Pouty Little Girl

The other day, Jason spanked me.

I know, shocker. 

I don’t remember what I did, but I do know it wasn’t huge trouble, but it was also not a fun spanking, or a reminder, but a punishment, and that the spanking happened at the end of the night. 

We have a sort of routine when I get a naughty girl spanking. He calls me up to him, takes out his implement, makes me kneel, and we talk about whatever it is we need to talk about. He usually lectures, reinforces why we have this rule, and then over the knee I go.

I’m sure I deserved it. If I didn’t, I’d probably be blogging about a whole other topic! 

He hugged me and he told me to get ready for bed, so I did, and when he came up to me, I sorta looked like this.

Not a really bratty pout, but an I need some attention pout. 

Now, to clarify, serious pouting isn’t tolerated. If he tells me no, or he lectures me, and I pout back at him, I can pretty much guarantee I’ll get in trouble for it, and I try not to do that anyway. But sometimes… if he’s been very busy or I got in trouble and I need my daddy so badly, I almost can’t help but pout a bit…well, that’s okay. 

I’m his baby girl. And the beauty of being his baby girl means I don’t always have to act like a grown-up

He doesn’t mind if I need him and show it, and he always responds the same way. He chuckles, or smiles, and comes over to me, pulls me up onto his chest or his lap and says, “Don’t pout, baby.” He likes that I let my guard down. He likes that I trust him enough not to have to put on a brave face all the time. He’s my Dom, and doms need to be needed. 

There’s a childlike part of all of us, and one of the most beautiful parts of embracing my submission is that I’ve been able to let that part of me free. I am a busy person with oh-so-many responsibilities. My to-do lists are, at times, monumental. The other day a friend of mine said something to the effect, “From where I’m standing, your life looks like well-orchestrated chaos.” Yes, I think that’s pretty accurate. 

Being submissive to Jason doesn’t mean that I’m not an adult. I still have a great deal of responsibility. It does mean that I’m free to let so much go, though, a concept I’ve explored many times here on this blog, such as this post HERE.

But today, I’d like to explain something else that’s happened as a result of being Jason’s little girl.  Because he’s my daddy, and I don’t have to shoulder all the responsibilities all the time, there are times when I feel very different. This I’ve explored as well, about how there's a little girl inside me, and that there's a big difference between childish and childlike. 

But the reason that I’ve brought it up again is because the longer we are in this, the more I’m able to truly let go. I don’t have to pretend to be a grow-up all the time. I love just being his little girl.

So the other day, Jason spanked me, and when he came upstairs later, I pouted a bit. 

“Aw, honey,” he said. “You need your daddy, don’t you?” 

I nodded, and I felt very little. Cherished. Protected. Childlike. 

“Yes, daddy.”

It's hard to admit that, even on this blog where I've bared my heart and soul for years, because I'm an adult. I'm a professional. But at the end of the day, when my kids are tucked in, my work is done and I'm offline, I have no more chores or responsibilities and only rest lies ahead of me? 

I'm only Jason's Girl. 

“Come here, honey,” he said, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “You’re very tired, and it’s time I put you to bed.” The covers were all tangled, so he said, “Daddies need to straighten out sheets for little girls,” and he did, lifting the bedspread and smoothing out the sheets before tucking me back in. “You may read for a little bit, but then I want you to get some sleep.” 

Yes, I melted into a puddle.

One could say that he was treating me like a child, and honestly, it would be a pretty accurate assessment. I certainly felt very little. But I loved it. 

 What exactly does it mean to be an adult? Does it mean that we shoulder responsibilities? That we are expected to behave maturely? That we’ll handle responsibilities without shrugging them off? That we willingly sacrifice our own needs to meet the needs of others?

Well, yes. 

There’s a trend these days with people saying, “I don’t want to adult today.” Some days, the weight of responsibility becomes too much to hold, and it’s utterly freeing just to relax. 

And honestly, I think that’s one of the most beautiful parts of being Jason’s little girl. I don’t always have to be the strong one. 

I can embrace being young at heart. I can trust him to tuck me in, and take care of my needs. I can go to bed because he’s told me to, and not have to worry about all the things that bother me. 

And that means I don’t feel like I always have to be so grown up.

It’s not really what I do but how I feel, which is an important distinction to make. I still do what needs to be done. I don't shirk my duties. But when I'm in my submissive head space, I can easily slip into being his little girl, and it often happens these days after I’ve been disciplined. I decided to blog about this, because it’s something that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years, but only fully come to light in recent months, likely because it's taken this long to come to grips with who we are. The relationship constantly evolves. 

Every time he doms me, every time I submit to him, we grow a little bit.

The more I trust him, the more vulnerable I can allow myself to become, and the more vulnerable I can allow myself to become, the fewer masks I need to wear. 

I feel…cared for. Little. Vulnerable. Cherished. 

Source unknown

Sunday, June 4, 2017

Good Submissives Need Spankings, Too .

This week I’ve been a bit of a lunatic. As per the usual, I had a lot going on, and the little hormone fairy demons were out to play. It’s hard, sometimes, finding ways to balance it all, and I know I’m not alone. I need to balance my own needs for sleep, for exercise, for healthy eating, for making time to be with friends and family. I need to stay within my budget and make good choices, which can be difficult to do when kids need new sneakers, and new clothes, and things break. I need to be a good and attentive mom and wife, to meet the very many needs of my pretty large family. And then there’s work – deadlines and edits and promo and writing to do. 
I woke up this morning, as I usually do, at dark o’clock. I had messages to tend to, emails to send, choices to make. I prepared blog post material with notes and pictures, and discussed a few important business-related items with Maisy. My kids began to wake up, so I gave fashion advice and discussed fidget spinners, and directed the kids in making breakfast. I ate breakfast myself, broke up a fight, had my coffee, brought Jason his. Soon I’ll wipe down the bathrooms and turn over the laundry and clean up the kitchen and later, we all have a party to go to. 

This is normal. I know that I’m not alone. And sometimes, I really, really need Jason to help me manage those needs. 

I need to be put in my place. 

I need to know I can put down what troubles me and trust him to lead me. 

I need to know I can depend on him, that we are partners in this craziness, and that he will help me when It all becomes a bit too much. 

And sometimes? That means I need a good, hard spanking. 

I am a pretty Type-A type person, so I do compartmentalize and organize when I'll spend time writing, when I'll plan, when I'll do all the things.  

But soon? Today I will check in with Jason. We will go over today’s plan, go over my to-do list, and then I will go over his lap. 

I can say with some certainty that the spanking I’m going to get will be long and hard. Why? I’m not in trouble, no. I’ve obeyed my rules. But this morning I told him briefly that I was feeling out of sorts. Later today, we will socialize, for hours, and though I handle that fine in the moment, I crash after. 

He will help me get my head on straight. I know he will. 

Because this is how we do things.

I know from interacting with so many of you that often Dominants don’t quite understand how very much we need to be spanked. Yes, not everyone’s needs are quite as high as mine. I do best with frequent, regular sessions over daddy’s knee. Some don’t like frequent spankings, and I respect that. But today, I’d like to explain how so many of us do need frequent spankings and that if you’re reading this, and you fall into this camp, there’s really nothing wrong with you.

In my private group online, we had a discussion related to this topic recently. I will not discuss our topics here, as those discussions are members-only. (Please see this post if you’d like to join our group). But I would like to quote a dominant who responded to our discussion with a thought-provoking line. (I have his permission to quote). 

“As we have worked into this "life choice" I cannot deny what I see right in front of me. Results. Positive changes in her behavior and more importantly in her state of mind. After about three or four days without a spanking, she becomes cloudy and insecure. If I let it go longer she begins to wonder if I'm angry at her or don't love her anymore. After a spanking she is a happy and centered little girl again…”


Spankings remind me that Jason loves me. The focus and attention in clearing my mind and keeping me in my happy submissive space help me feel like I belong to him.

Being dominated is erotic. In the moment, because I’m not a masochist, I’m not turned on by being spanked, unless there’s a different sort of power exchange before, during, or after. (For example, if he’s being stern and lecturing me about being a good girl, and telling me that daddy loves me, then it *could* turn me on because it’s that exchange of power that gets me going). 

After I’m spanked, my mind is cleared and I’m focused. I feel calmer. Centered. Loved. 

Getting spanked releases “feel good” hormones that make me feel happy and secure, so after a good, long session, I often feel relaxed.

Note, I’m not talking about being punished. Discipline is a whole ‘nother ball game, and though I do sometimes feel better after he’s disciplined me, I often feel remorseful or repentant as well. 

I simply mean that even when I'm good, I need to be spanked. In fact, one might even say in order to be good, I need to be spanked. I certainly can behave without regular spankings, but it's much more challenging. 

On that note, it's time for me to go check in with Jason. I am already craving lying over his lap. It's time to check in with my daddy, and get ready for the day. Time to take my vitamin-S. 😏