Monday, July 28, 2014

All of Me

So, there's this new song, that maybe you've you've already heard. Or, maybe, like me, you've bought it, downloaded, and played it a million times. "All of Me," by John Legend. If you haven't yet heard it, give it a go.



Interestingly, when I first heard it, I thought, "Wow, this is like the D/S theme song." But when I spoke of it to a friend of mine who isn't D/S, she said, "No, I don't see it that way. I see it as a song about unconditional love."

Unconditional love, I thought....Yes. The song is about unconditional love, and mutual self-giving. 

So, yes....to me? It is about D/S. Because isn't that at the heart of it all? Unconditional love, and giving ourselves to one another?

I've never heard a song before that seemed to just capture it all so beautifully. In fact, when I listen to it, I have a weird reaction. Visions flash through my mind...one after another. I hear things Jason has said. I hear things I've said. I see us, struggling, and making it through, learning and giving it one more try...



"All Of Me"

What would I do without your smart mouth?
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out
You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down

"I don't want you to change," he says, shaking his head. " I want to do this. I don't want you to be quiet and mousy and lose who you are. I want you to tell me how you really feel. I want you to speak your mind." He smiles. "I just want you to do it respectfully." 


What's going on in that beautiful mind
I'm on your magical mystery ride
And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright

I'm kneeling. His hand is under my chin, forcing me to make eye contact. I don't want to. I'm hurt. I don't want to let him in. I don't want him to see. 

I don't want to cry. 

"Don't look away," he whispers. "I need to look into your eyes. Don't pull away from me," he commands, quietly, but he means it. 

I look at him. I swallow, and I feel the tears coming. 

"I don't know if I can do this," I whisper, tears beginning, and he knows what I mean. Keep putting myself out there. Keep spilling all. Keep being open, and vulnerable. 

"Talk to me," he says. 

I take a deep breath. And I begin...


My head's under water
But I'm breathing fine
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind

'Cause all of me
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections

I'm standing in front of the mirror. I sigh. He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I try...I eat well, I exercise, I do what I'm supposed to do. I try hard...but still, I'm not always happy with what I see. 

"What is it, baby girl?" 

I look at my body, that's changed after all these years, after all these babies. My hands on my belly, I don't say anything at first. I'm not allowed to criticize my body. He'll punish me if I do.

"It's not enough," I say. "I keep working at it, keep trying, and still, the progress is so slow." 

He takes me by the hand, and leads me over to the bed. He sits, and pulls me over to him, so his hands are on either side of my waist and I'm standing between his legs. He's smiling his quiet, soft smile, the one that says "I love you and you're so precious to me." 

He leans over and kisses my belly. "I love your body," he murmurs. "You're gorgeous. I get within two feet of you and you start turning me on."

I giggle. "No way," I protest, but it's a very weak protest. 

He leans down and kisses my belly again. I squirm. It's ticklish and sexy, all at once. "This isn't fat," he says. "This is love. This body gave me my children." 

He leans over and kisses me again, tracing a pattern on my bare skin. 

"Don't you know how beautiful you are?"

I forget what it was I was ever complaining about...


Give your all to me
I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I'm winning

I'm waking from a bad dream. I don't know what it's about, but I'm scared. 

I wake up, and I go right from my dream to an anxiety attack. I feel like the walls are closing in on me. 

"I can't breathe," I gasp, panting next to Jason. 

He's instantly there, cradling me in his arms. 

"Breathe, baby," he says. "I'm here." 

I feel him, his strength, I hear his voice, and I try. 

I focus on breathing. 

I focus on relaxing. 

I focus on doing what he says, and I slowly settle into his arms, calmed again, as he holds me until I fall back asleep...


'Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you

How many times do I have to tell you
Even when you're crying you're beautiful too

I'm on my knees, my head in his lap, and I'm crying. He's just punished me, for not paying attention and doing something dangerous. It was a hard punishment to take. But somehow, today, the spanking he gave me touched a raw nerve, and I'm undone. All that I've been holding onto comes crashing, and I'm helpless to stop the tears that keep coming. 

I'm crying, hard, and I can't stop. 

"Let it out," he says. 

I lift my head and his thumb brushes my tears away. 

"How do you feel when I cry?" I ask, sniffling through my tears. "Does it bother you?" 

"No," he says. "I feel like I've gotten through to you. And when you cry, you're beautiful, because you are mine." 


The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood
You're my downfall, you're my muse
My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues
I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you


It's been a very long, stressful day. The kids have been difficult, and I've had an enormous list of things that need to be done and even more yet that still need to be done. I'm physically and emotionally drained. 

But he's home now. We don't even talk. I haven't even told him what the day has been like. I smile at him, as I don't want to dump it all on him the minute he comes home from work. There will be time to talk, but right now we say nothing. 

The kids start talking, one is crying, another is hungry. They adore him, so they clamor, trying to get at him first, telling him There is chaos and noise, and he reaches for my hand, giving me the "I love you" signal. 

I don't even have to talk to him. We don't even have to be alone. All at once, I can breathe easy again. 


My head's under water
But I'm breathing fine
You're crazy and I'm out of my mind


He's playing his guitar. He's a master at playing. It thrills me, to see his hands on slim body of it. It reminds me that he plays my body like I'm his instrument, masterfully, beautifully, putty in his hands, obeying his every move. 

But today, he's jamming. The amps are pumping out music that moves me to my core, and I'm dancing in our living room as he watches, and he plays. Kicking my heels back and moving in time, our kids come in, and we're all laughing. It's a rock concert in our living room. 

Music and joy, and he's the master of it all...


'Cause all of me
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
Give your all to me
I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I'm winning
'Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you, ohoh

Give me all of you
Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts
Risking it all, though it's hard

I'm kneeling. We've had an argument, and I've put up my wall. I don't want to do this. I can't do this. I want to give up. 

Sometimes, it's too hard. Sometimes, it hurts too much. 

"I want you to come back to me," he says. "Come back. I want my good girl back. I don't want this to be between us anymore." 

"I know," I whisper. "I want to be back. But I don't know how to get back there." 

He gives me a long, steady stare. 

"Get over my lap," he instructs. 

I obey. 

And he brings me back...


'Cause all of me
Loves all of you
Love your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections

Give your all to me
I'll give my all to you
You're my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I'm winning
'Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you

I give you all of me
And you give me all of you


We're walking, side by side, our kids milling around us. To the rest, we seem like the average couple, maybe. They don't know that the silver necklace around my neck locks, and that I can't take it off. That I reach for it when I'm feeling nervous, or troubled, or I miss him. That it's a constant reminder that I am his, his submissive, and he is my Dominant. 

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. 

He gives me my hand signal and I look up at him. He's smiling his quirky, knowing smile. He's just given me the signal for "Be a good girl." 

I lean over and kiss his cheek and whisper, "Yes, sir." 

He smiles. "That's my good girl," he says. 

I feel happy. I feel safe. 

I feel loved.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

But what if he doesn't notice? Consistently consistent (part two)

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post on some thoughts I had about consistency

My main point in writing that post was two-fold: consistency means he exercises his right to punish when and how he wants to (not when and how I want him to), but I also explored some of the reasons some of us really crave consistency. I asked you readers to share your thoughts on consistency. 

In the comments section, some of you explained that the issues you have with consistency center more along the lines of how things are addressed. Is an infraction completely ignored? Does the Hoh say his Tih is deserving of punishment, then neglect to follow through? Certainly, this kind of consistency can be problematic, and it's something I see surface in the community time and time again. 


So I thought I'd take a stab at addressing this issue, as it really is a fairly common struggle many DD couples have. 

A bit of a disclaimer here. We do not have an issue with consistency here. Jason means what he says, and my obedience is of utmost importance to him. Not only is he consistent, he does try to deal with infractions as soon as possible. So my opinions on this subject stem from some of the struggles we had early on, not necessarily from something we deal with now. 

Jason initiated the DD side of things for us. I've written about it how things unfolded, and how we ironed out some issues we had with TTWD in this post. As things progressed, the DS side of things unfolded on a whole new level to us. My submission became very important to him. His dominance became the driving force in our dynamic. 

But there was a time when really, the DD side of things was a lot more important to me than it was to him. It was a time of frustration for me, honestly. I was craving his dominance so badly, that I needed to know our rules and the expectations he set for me were important.

And that really is the key to why consistency is important. When he let things slide, I felt like he didn't care. I felt like my efforts were worthless. I didn't understand why we would have rules he wasn't interested in enforcing. If I made the effort to obey him, couldn't he put forth the effort to hold me accountable? 

It really wasn't that he wasn't paying attention. It really wasn't that he didn't care. But just as I had to learn to pay attention to the rules, he had to learn to pay attention to enforcing them. I wasn't going to have an overnight transformation and immediately be able to do all he expected of me perfectly. I needed to realize he wasn't either. 

So, there were times when I would do something that broke one of our rules. Safety things were a given -- they were always important to him, and he would spank me for doing something dangerous without question. With safety issues, his "radar" was always on high alert (and still most certainly is). But sometimes there were other things he would let slide. There were some things he was initially reluctant to make part of our dynamic. 

For example, one of the reasons I wanted DD to be part of our dynamic was because of my temper. And occasionally, I would lose my temper, and he wouldn't stop me, or punish me. Then I would feel guilty. I would start spiraling. "Doesn't how I speak matter to him? Doesn't he know how badly I want him to help me learn to be more respectful?" When those things came up, I would have a few choices. 

I could flat out tell him, "This is when you're supposed to spank me." Well, that wasn't going to work. This is when he would tell me, "I'm the one in charge here, not you." Point taken. 

I could let it slide. But then sometimes I would get into that mental place of feeling...unsettled and uncertain. Feeling like maybe TTWD wasn't really going to work for us. Feeling like maybe he just didn't care! Maybe he didn't even love me anymore! Okay, okay, it didn't get that bad, ever. I'm exaggerating. But I would definitely get into a mental place that was detrimental to us both. 

So I decided on a different approach altogether. 

I would make the choice to submit, whether he required it or not. 

I would apologize for what I'd done wrong, assume he was being lenient, and focus on being thankful for his leniency. Then I would make an effort not to do it again. 

So it would look something like this. 

I would say something rude or disrespectful, and he would walk away, or not respond. Then I would feel awful. 

I would swallow my pride, and go to him, and say, "I'm sorry I was rude. I shouldn't have done that. Please forgive me." 

How he would respond would be up to him. There would be times when he would tell me, "I didn't know you spoke rudely. I wasn't paying attention and I was doing something else." Then he would spank me for it. 

There were times when he would simply smile and thank me for my apology.

There were times when he would tell me he was well aware of the fact I'd been disrespectful, but that he needed some space to calm down, and that if it happened again, I would be punished. 


How he responded was totally up to him. I gave the reigns back to him. But bit by bit, I learned to submit, and bit by bit, he learned to be consistent. 

There were other things that happened too, though, that made me feel like he was being inconsistent. 

There were times when he would tell me I was going to be punished for something and then forget to follow through. Sometimes he wouldn't tell me either way, and I would be left wondering...am I in trouble? What's going to happen? 

Again, I was left with a few choices. 

I could tell him he had to punish me (ha!). 

I could let it go. But then sometimes I would get into that mental place again...questioning if this mattered to him...feeling uncertain and unsettled. Sometimes, feeling riddled with guilt. 

Or, I could tell him how I felt, and trust him to do what he thought best. In short, I could communicate my feelings and then submit to his ultimate decision. This is what worked best for us. 

I vividly remember how I would go to him and simply say something like, "May I ask you a question?" and would wait for him to give me permission. Then I would say something like, "I know I forgot to do what you asked me. Is that something I'm in trouble for?" or "I feel really guilty about breaking that rule. Should I just let it go? What do you want me to do about that?" 

Whatever he told me...I would do my best to accept. I would submit to his leadership. 

Over time, I accepted that he was going to lead how he saw fit. Over time, he realized that I needed him to be firmer and more consistent. 

Over time, as he became more consistent, I felt understood. I felt important to him. 

Over time, as I submitted to his leadership, he felt appreciated. He felt more able to lead with confidence. 

I'd love to hear how you feel about this topic, readers. Is consistency something you struggle with in your dynamic? How have you dealt with this struggle? 

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Taking Me On

It's been a nice day, but I'm tired. I went to bed late, and was up early, and the time has gotten away from me. I always like to plan a nice dinner and dessert on Sunday night, so I go into the kitchen, hoping I can get everything done just in the nick of time. 

Everything is going smoothly. Food is baking, the sauce is bubbling on the stove, one of my daughters is helping me prepare dessert. I lift the salt shaker and go to season the sauce, and the entire top breaks, the contents of the newly-filled salt shaker dumping into my sauce. I scramble, trying to scoop it out, but it's hopeless. With a sigh, I take the double batch that was just about ready to be served, and I dump it out. There was a time when I would've sworn and slammed things. But I don't. Jason is sitting in the other room, so I step into the room and give him a pouty look. 

"What's the matter, babe?" he asks. I tell him. 

He looks at me sympathetically. "It's okay. Just make another batch. All you need is some olive oil, and tomatoes, and --" 

"I know how to do it," I interrupt in the calmest voice I can muster. "I just did it. Now I just need to do it again, and dinner will be late." 

He narrows his eyes, warning me, but all he says is, "Okay, then. Go for it. And don't worry about the time." 

I know I'm on thin ice there. I'm not supposed to interrupt him, but he gave me a little leeway there. Time to reign it in. 

I go back and finish dinner, and serve it up. I'm still on edge. I tell him dinner is ready and ask for help, but he's busy. I feel my frustration mounting again, but I will myself to just stay calm, just submit, just be patient. 

Dinner is a success, though, and I manage to stay calm even though I'm still feeling pretty flustered. I go to serve dessert, a lovely crumble my daughter helped me make, and I see that even though we followed the directions, it's nowhere near done. I sigh. Time for plan B. We get some ice cream out of the freezer, and I serve it up, simmering and muttering under my breath. 

I start clearing the table. Someone makes a rude comment to me, and I feel my resolve snap. I'm alone in the kitchen. I take a fork and whip it into the sink, shattering a glass. 

Oh man

Did he see? No. If he saw, I'm toast, he'll be marching me upstairs and over his knee in 2.3 seconds flat.

But I feel guilty. Keep it in? I clean it up as quietly as I can, berating myself for being a brat, but I'm riddled with guilt. I know I need a spanking. And there's more than that. I need him to set me to rights again, clear my head, sort me out. 

I go to him and he welcomes me over, lifting his arm and I settle in. 

I tell him what I did. 

He looks somewhat amused. "You whipped a fork into the sink and broke a glass?" 

"Yes," I say, in a little voice. 

"You really need a spanking," he says, and I nod. I know I do. 

This is where I start getting frustrated with myself. I think things like,

Am I ever going to learn? 

How am I ever going to be the girl he wants me to be? 

How can he still have patience with me, doing bratty things like this, after all this time?

"Listen," he says. "I think a good spanking is in order. But you need to let this go now. You got frustrated tonight. I got frustrated earlier. It happens. You need to look at the progress you've made." 

I raise my eyebrows to him. "Progress?"

He laughs, "Baby, a year ago you would've been swearing up a storm and justifying your behavior. Now look at you. So you had a fit and threw a fork, and that's not acceptable. I don't want you doing that, and you know it. But you will learn." 

I nod. I will learn, because he teaches me. I will learn, because it's a matter of picking myself up and trying all over again.

As I clean up the kitchen, I think to myself, how is it that he keeps taming me? The title of this blog really rings true. Little by little, bit by bit, he's taming me. I'm learning, every day, what he expects of me. Friday night we had a long talk about some of his expectations, and I've been mulling them over ever since. 

You would think, with an Hoh as stern and consistent as Jason, that I would've learned more by now. Sometimes I ask myself how it can be that I haven't, but he doesn't allow me to get into that frame of mind, so I make myself keep going, keep trying, keep picking myself up and starting over again. 

He waits until the kids are in bed, and I am ready for bed. He hasn't told me I need to go to bed yet, but I am tired. I ask him if he's coming. I know he's going to spank me, and I'm tired. He tells me no, he will be up in an hour. 

"Please," I beg him. I hate waiting on a punishment. And there are things I want to talk to him about. 

"No," he says, sterner this time. "I'll be up in an hour." 

And believe it or not, I do another bratty thing again.

I cross my arms, feeling frustrated and pent up and so ready to be sorted out. "Well I'm not going to bed until you come up then." 

Wrong answer, girl. 

He sits up, takes my chin so my eyes are level with his, and says, "Oh yes you are. You are not staying up with me with an attitude like that. March yourself upstairs, get ready for bed, and wait for me." 

Deflated, frustrated, and put in my place, I mumble a "yes, sir," and shuffle upstairs. 

Part of me is angry. Doesn't he know I need him? But wait, it's not all about me. 

But part of me is grateful. I am so thankful he doesn't allow me to be a brat. I know when he comes up he's going to make sure I've learned my lesson, and at this point, I want that behind us. I want to be good again. I want a clean slate. The best I can do now, while I wait for him, is obey. 

I do as he says, and I wait for him. 

He comes upstairs. 

"We have a little matter to attend to," he says. I nod. I know. Boy do I know. 

He made a new strap and it's sitting in his implement drawer. It's a serious implement and I haven't been punished with it yet. I got a good taste of it for a sexy spanking though, and it's serious stuff. I can hardly breathe, for fear he will choose the strap tonight. 

"This is how we're going to do this," he says, going to the implement drawer. He takes out the brush. He knows I've been wondering if the strap will come out, as he says, "I'm going to take it easier on you tonight. I'm getting in bed, and you're lying across my lap. I'm going to spank you, and we will put this behind us." 

I nod. Honestly, I am so ready to put this behind us. I know the spanking is going to hurt, but I also know how badly I need it tonight. 

This is where the mixed feelings come in. Punishment is hard to take. I don't enjoy it. But sometimes, I need it. Sometimes I need to feel him sort me out, set my head on straight again. Sometimes I want to know he cares, that how I behave and what I do are important to him. Sometimes I want to be motivated to do better, because I want so badly to please him. Sometimes I don't want leniency, I want his sternness. 

Somehow, it's the serious side of things that I crave at times. 

When he punishes me, he's not just taking me on. He's not just taming the brat. He's taking it all on. My worries. My fears. My insecurities, and my frustrations. My guilt. 

"Come here," he says sternly. And this is where the process begins. He commands, and I feel that little bit of frustration go away. 

Zip. Gonzo. One layer gone. 

Just do what he says.

"Strip," he says. He wants all of me bare, so I lie completely and utterly vulnerable over his lap. Skin to skin, I feel him beneath me, his strength beginning to overcome me. 

Zip. Another layer gone. 

You are his. 

"Why are you getting a spanking?" he asks, and I whisper the reasons. I was a brat. I misbehaved. I gave him an attitude. 

"This isn't acceptable," he lectures. "You're not allowed to behave that way. Are you going to be a good girl this week?" he asks. 

"Yes, sir," I say, tears coming to my eyes. I want to be. I want to be his good girl so badly. 

Zip. Another layer gone.

He loves you.

He spanks me. I bury my face in the blanket on the bed, muffling my cries, as the sharp bite of the brush finds it's target. Swat after swat he lands. 

He lectures while he spanks, and tears come to my eyes. I want to please him. I want to do better. I will do better. 

It hurts, and I'm squirming, but he holds me fast and continues to spank me until I lay over his lap, completely surrendered. Calm. Centered. Submissive. 

Tonight, it wasn't all about teaching me a lesson. Tonight, there was more at play. 

Tonight I needed him. 

I'm calm now. I've told him before, "I don't know how you can continue to still be so patient with me." 

He laughed. "I can take you, baby," he said. 

And he's right. He can take me. 

Hell, he can tame me. 

He has tamed me.

I may never reach that place where I want to be. I may never reach that place where he wants me to be. 

But I'll be damned if I won't give it everything I've got.


Tuesday, July 8, 2014

A Good Ten

I'm in the kitchen preparing dinner. Without thinking, I do something incredibly dangerous and stupid. It's kind of embarrassing, but you can use your imagination. I thought I was being careful but....welllll...

"What are you doing?" he bellows. Jason scares the hell out of me. He is not a bellower, so I just about jump out of my skin. 

"What?" I say, giving him the deer-in-the-headlights stare. With that tone of voice and that look he's giving me, I know if we were alone right now, he'd probably be tipping me over his knee right then and there.

"Don't you ever let me see you do that again! Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? I mean never ever ever again!" 

I nod, chastened and embarrassed and humbled. I thought I was being careful. I, um, do it all the time. Okay, okay. 

So I make myself stop this habit pronto. 

But, about a week later, I catch myself doing it again. Shoot. Uh-oh.  I feel guilty. 

We have a "fess up" rule. He always checks in with me in the evening, so we are snuggling on the couch and he asks me if I've been a good girl. 

"I...um. Caught myself doing it again," I say sheepishly. I tell him what happened. He gives me the raised eyebrow look. I try to be scrupulously honest with him, even if it's embarrassing. 

"You did?" 

"Yes! But I, um, caught myself right away! And I stopped!" I look at him, mustering up all the cuteness I possibly can. "That counts for something, right?" I ask in a teeny tiny voice. 

He smiles and squeezes his arm around my shoulder. "It does," he admits with a narrowed-eye smile. Then he sobers. "But, I think a good ten should remind you not to do it again." I blink. 

"Just as a reminder," he says.

I nod. He raises his eyes again. 

"Yes, sir," I say quietly. He smiles his approval.

I do love that he's so overprotective protective. 

But at bedtime, I am utterly, completely bone-tired. The kids are asleep and I crawl into bed and completely zonk out, dead to the world, with my book falling by my side. 

He comes to bed and wakes me gently. 

"Time to get ready for bed, baby girl," he whispers. I stumble out of bed, barely able to keep my eyes open, but I obey him. He leads me to the bathroom, practically holding me I'm so exhausted.

"I was in trouble," I mumble. "Right?" I can't even open my eyes completely. 

He is smiling at me, like he wants to pick me up and stick me in his pocket. 

"You're such a good girl," he says softly, reaching over and tucking my hair behind my ear. "Just a little bit of trouble," he murmurs. He pinches his thumb and index finger together. "Just a tiny bit." 

"Yes, sir," I whisper, my words barely coherent. I'm so tired I feel like I'm sleep walking, as I go back to our bedroom.

He comes in. There's an unmistakable look of pride on his face. I'm not sure why. His look is so tender. I'm so tired, and I don't know exactly why he's being so gentle, so patient, and why he is looking at me that way. 

I feel somehow that I am absolutely precious to him. He comes over to my side of the bed where I'm laying down. 

"You're such a good girl," he whispers. "Do you know that? You make me so proud. Just look at how hard you're trying. My good girl," he says. 

He is standing next to me and he rolls me over to my side, lifts his hand and swat! He gives me the lightest, gentlest swat possible.

"One," he says, as he proceeds to deliver and count out ten tiny swats.

"See? Just a little trouble," he chuckles, tucking the blanket over me. He puts his hand on my head, as is his custom, wishing me sweet dreams. 

"Go to sleep, baby. Such a good girl," he says, so softly it's as if he's talking to himself.

I remember a time when I would've been confused about the gentle spanking. But now I just roll over on my side, determined to continue to do my very best to be his good girl.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Consistently Consistent (part one)

A few weeks ago, we had an issue here. 

Jason said something off-hand that hurt. He didn't mean to, but he accidentally touched a raw place of mine I was struggling with. He didn't know how I would react. Honestly, I didn't know how I would react. I quietly excused myself from the table, and a short while later, when he called my name, I went to him. He knew I was upset, but he was confused. He asked me why I was upset, and before I knew what was happening, the floodgates broke loose. I sat next to him on the couch, talking passionately, explaining why what he said hurt so badly, tears streaming down my face. He was completely blindsided, but could tell I was working myself up, so he stopped me as my voice began to raise in temper and said, "Go upstairs and calm yourself down." 

I obeyed him right away, went upstairs, cried some more and calmed down. I don't like feeling angry at him. I don't like how I feel when I am frustrated, and hurt. He is not the type to ever intentionally hurt me, so I also felt guilty. 

He is honestly very strict, so I expected when he came upstairs, he would spank me for getting so worked up and not controlling myself better. I'm expected to speak respectfully and with self-control. I thought I had been disrespectful, and my temper had gotten the better of me.

He came upstairs and immediately instructed me to kneel. I did. He explained how he didn't mean to hurt me, and that he understood why what he said was hurtful. He apologized. Then he said, "I am not spanking you for this. I was the reason you were upset. You didn't speak disrespectfully to me. You didn't disobey me. You came right upstairs when I told you to, so there is no need for me to discipline you." 

I was grateful he was being so understanding. I was also grateful I wasn't going to be punished. I don't like being punished. But my emotions were so bottled up, I remembered what it felt like back when I would question his discipline. I remember how badly I would crave his discipline, and how upset I would get when he would let things slide. 

But then I also remembered how he used to tell me, "If we do this, we do this my way." It didn't mean he didn't listen to me, or value my input. He always did. It meant that whether or not I would be disciplined wasn't up to me. And I was easily able to let it go, and put it behind us. 

He wasn't being inconsistent. 

He was being merciful. 

And isn't that his right to exercise as my Dom?

Once I accepted that mercy wasn't inconsistency, never again did I question whether or not I would be disciplined. There are times when I am disciplined and I don't agree. But I accept that he is the Hoh, and I listen to his reasoning, and try my very hardest to make sure I know why he disciplined me so that I don't do it again. I have always come to understand his point of view. There are times when I expect to be disciplined, and I'm not. But I am grateful he is merciful, and consider myself lucky that I got another chance to do it right. 

This is why I consider him to be exceptionally consistent. 

Consistency doesn't mean I am spanked for every little thing I do. It doesn't even mean I am spanked every time for the same thing. 

That's not what consistency is. It means he exercises his right to discipline when and how he sees fit. And he's the one in charge here. 

But I do think it's extremely important to note why consistency is vitally important in a D/S dynamic. Over and over and over again, in chats and forums and blogs, you hear Tih who are letdown by their husband's leniency. 

Why? 

There is nothing that makes us feel more protected, cared for, and loved, than the certainty of a firm but loving hand. Those of us who crave this dynamic are wired that way. 

I'd like to explain another scenario we recently had here to illustrate my point. The second scenario did not, shall we say, end the same way my first scenario did. 

We have a rule here that I'm not allowed to speed. I used to drive like an absolute maniac, but those days are long gone. In the beginning, I would only be disciplined for intentionally speeding. If I caught myself speeding and slowed down, I wouldn't be punished. But that's not the rule anymore. Now, the expectation is that if I catch myself speeding, I need to confess, and I will be punished. 

Let's just say...it's kinda of a really hard rule for me, and I'm really not "there" yet. Mostly I've made a habit of driving cautiously, but when I get distracted, at times I lose my focus and catch myself speeding.

Recently, I was on a long trip without him, visiting some family. I made the trip there just fine, obeyed the traffic laws, my phone rules, everything. But while I was there, I got some disturbing news. I got into a discussion that brought back some memories...it was an unexpectedly emotionally intense afternoon. On the way home, my mind was elsewhere. I was terribly distracted. 

I caught myself speeding three times. 

Jason wasn't home when I got home. My stomach was in knots. I hate confessing and prefer to have it over as soon as possible. I was saddened knowing I'd disappointed him. I knew without a doubt he would spank me.

He came home, and I told him I had to talk to him. He gave me a kiss, said it was time to put kids to bed, but that we would talk as soon as we had time alone. 

When he called me to him, I went in, knelt by him, and told him, "I caught myself speeding three times on the way home. I'm not trying to get out of being punished, but I wanted to explain what happened." 

He nodded. "Tell me what happened." 

So I explained the situation, what I had heard when I was up there, and why I was so distracted driving home. During my explanation, he was completely empathetic, asked about certain things that happened, and told me he was sorry about the news I got and the afternoon I had.

Then he stopped talking and looked meditative. 

"What are you thinking?" I asked him quietly. He looked to me, and very gently put his hand under my chin."I think I need to spank you, because you broke a rule, and a safety one at that. But I also think that given the circumstances, I'm not going to punish you severely." 

I nodded, and buried my head in his lap. 

He was exercising consistency.  And it made me feel loved. 

I didn't look forward to being disciplined. Even though I do like to be spanked (for other reasons), the emotional impact of being disciplined makes it very unpleasant. Plus, he really makes sure punishment spankings count. 

It's actually pretty rare that he metes out discipline with gentle understanding the way he did that night. When the time came for him to discipline me, the word "gentle" doesn't exactly come to mind -- he made his point alright, and I did, in fact, catch myself speeding the following week and he did, in fact, spank me soundly for it. 

But I consented to this lifestyle for a reason. It was far deeper than merely an erotic attraction. If  that's all there was to it, we never would've gone beyond sexy spanking in bed. It's more than just a game. My obedience to him, and his leadership, are things we both work on constantly. And though I dislike being punished, it cannot be denied that the punishment aspect of a d/s relationship is one of the many things that make it work. 

And this is why consistency is so important. It shows me that he takes his role, and mine, seriously. 

When he disciplines me for doing something unsafe, I know he wants me to take care of myself, because he loves me. When he spanks me for losing my patience, I know he's teaching me to be a better person. When he punishes me for speaking rudely to him, I know he does so because he values harmony in our relationship. When he swats my rear for a self-deprecating remark, I know he wants me to be gentle with myself. 

It takes great strength to allow yourself to live this dynamic. When you willingly choose either role -- whether you are the one in authority, or you are the one relinquishing control -- you choose vulnerability. The choice to be transparent and vulnerable takes great courage, because you run the risk of being hurt. 

So even though being punished is certainly unpleasant -- it is, after all, meant to deter -- a consistent adherence to the expectations is crucial. With consistency, the submissive knows the trust she has given is cherished. She knows her efforts are not in vain. With consistency, the Dom understands that he has been given tremendous responsibility. It is with consistency that the Dom grows confident in his role.

When Jason takes the time to instruct me, I know the values he and I hold true mean something. When he disciplines me I know he does so because he firmly believes it is for my own good. It has become clear, as we took the plunge and incorporated d/s into our relationship at a deeper level, how well this dynamic works for the two of us. There is peace, and harmony. We still have disagreements. We still make mistakes. But problems are solved rapidly. We have both grown to trust each other more. We've both become more in tune to the needs of the other. 

So even though punishment is largely unpleasant, it's a facet of our dynamic that makes this work. When I willingly lay myself over his lap to be disciplined, it shows him that I trust him. I have the strength to submit, and he has the strength to exercise self control and fairness when meting out discipline. I feel that our relationship, our family, our values are important to him. 




But most of all? I feel like I am important to him. 

Although I am only speaking from personal experience here, I have attempted to draw from the thoughts and feelings of others in the community as well while elaborating on the importance of consistency. I feel I've barely scratched the surface, so I would love to hear from readers as well. 

What are your thoughts on consistency? What have been your own experiences, struggles, and conclusions?