Sunday, May 21, 2017

When I reallllly need a spanking.

I wake up early in the morning, before Jason. Normally, I have my routine where I come on downstairs, have a little meditation/prayer with my morning coffee, then work on whatever book I’m writing before my kids wake. But this morning, for some crazy reason, I wake up really, really needy.
I remember how super sexy the Outlander spanking was, and I think, “You know, It’ll be good to see that again.” (C’mon…many of you have done it…don’t judge! Lol). 

An hour later, I’ve watched a crazy amount of spanking videos. He doesn’t like me to really watch them often, and there are some I’m not even allowed to watch. But it’s okay if it’s once in a while. Honestly, I need a spanking, and I need one badly. When I need one, I often pick up a book and read a good spanky romance, but I’m dying here. My need to be spanked is high, honestly, from what others have told me, higher than most. Jason spanks me just about every single day. It’s part of our routine. 


Why? It keeps me grounded. Helps me focus. I love the intimate connection. It puts me in his place as his submissive, and reminds me to keep my attitude in check. Getting spanked releases endorphins, and makes me feel relaxed. I crave going over his lap.
When it’s time for his coffee, I bring it to him and whisper, “Daddy, I have a confession to make. I spent an hour watching spanking videos this morning. I need a spanking so bad.” 

He rolls over, still sleepy-groggy and raises a brow, chuckling. “Wow. You are needy,” he says. “I’ll take care of you, baby doll.”
Happy sigh. 

He makes sure we have privacy and he shuts and locks the doors. “There’s a little girl who needs a spanking,” he says, and points to the floor by his feet. I go to him, dragging my feet a bit because this is when I start getting a little nervous. He knows I need a spanking, so he’s going to give it to me good. He notes my hesitation. “Over my lap.” He pats his knee, all humor now gone. “Now, young lady.” 


I obey. I’m wearing a dress that he easily flips up, and he starts spanking. There is no warm up today. (Jason…yoohoo…Jason? Do you remember how the warm-up goes, honey? Just checking! Gah!). Hard, biting slaps of the tilt wand on bare skin, and I’m squirming. “Please, daddy,” I say, because it really, really hurts. 

“You need this,” is all he says, and on he spanks. Swish. Thud. Swish. Thud. But after a short while, I’m warmed up, and the intensity of the pain fades. It still hurts, but I don’t squirm anymore. Now I can take it. Now he’s slowing down, with slow, steady licks with the wand. I already feel it beginning, the release of anxiety, sinking into my submissive place, the content release I get after a spanking. 

“Up off my lap, baby,” he says, and he has me lie over the edge of the bed. That’s when I hear it, the telltale jingle of his belt buckle.
God, I love daddy’s belt. 

He folds it over and smacks my naked skin. I hiss through clenched teeth. I don’t get the belt often, and though I love the sexiness of it and the feel of a good strapping (when I’m not in trouble – punishment strappings hurt like a mother), it’s hard to take. “Please, daddy,” I gasp. “It keeps smacking in one place.” He places his hand on the small of my back and hears my plea, flicking his wrist over so that the belt lands all over, lashes falling one at a time, and just like the beginning spanking, I’m warmed up now. I can take it. He swings hard, but not too hard. He doesn’t welt, but snaps the leather expertly. 


“Up on the bed,” he says. “Present yourself to me, little girl.” I climb up onto the bed, in the position I know he wants me, chest down, arms out, ass up. He’s back at it with the belt, slow steady whaps. I tremble a little when I present, because when the belt hits my upper thighs it hurts a way lot. A few smacks land there but I do the best I can to take it. 

He stops, sits back on the edge of the bed, and says, “Back on over my knee now, baby.” 

I obey, eager to feel him under my belly again. His warm, sturdy leg beneath my belly. He drops the belt and spanks me with his hand, just a few smacks. I sigh.

“There they are,” he says. “The sighs I’ve been waiting to hear.I love doing this for you." 

"Really?" I ask. 

"Yes, I do." 

"It's not an inconvenience?" I do wonder about that sometimes. 

"Hell, no," he says, and he is...very obviously...turned on. I sigh contentedly again, and he’s done. 

Within minutes, I’m on my knees, moving on to a different kind of submission exercise that keeps me in my place pretty well. ;)
Twelve hours later, I still feel the stripes of his belt, the burn and sting, and I’m pretty sure I’ve had a smile on my face all day long. 

I love – no…

I really like – no…

Sometimes I need a good, hard, thorough session. Thank you, daddy.

Sunday, May 14, 2017

In which J Girl misses her daddy like crazy...

Good morning, readers! It’s good to be blogging again.

Last week, I was traveling away from Jason, and I really did have a fantastic trip. I went to a writing conference with Maisy, met some of my fellow writers, and learned so very much. I loved it. There are several plans in place for more writing-related travel this year. It really is the most fun.

I wondered before I left how everything would go. After all, it wasn’t like this was my first time going to a writing conference. It was my third, and the last one I went to was just last year. It was a bit of a longer trip, though, as I added travel time to see my family, so I was gone an extra day. And Jason and I are in a different place than we were. 

In the interest of being honest, I have to admit, being apart from Jason was incredibly difficult. I try to keep things real here on this blog. Some of you have dynamics very similar to ours, so I like to explain both the good times and the bad, so I am going to be very honest about how things went while we were apart.

A few months ago I blogged about the three different stagesof a D/s dynamic. Many of you said that resonated with you. Jason and I are pretty heavily into the third stage. At the third stage, there isn’t a lot of trial and error anymore. I rarely get into trouble. We understand one another’s needs, and there is a heavy power exchange that happens between the two of us on a regular basis. It’s a beautiful thing, really. This is just the natural way of relating with one another. Our marriage thrives with this dynamic in place, and neither of us would ever change it. 

There are downsides, though, and one of those downsides that became very apparent was when we were separated from one another. It was very difficult for us both to be apart. Before I left, Jason couldn’t get enough of me. He held me, talked to me, doted on me, and spent every minute he could with me. It was really pretty sweet. “I’m going to miss you so much, little girl,” he said just before I left. I knew I would miss him, too, but I was on auto-pilot preparing to leave. 

I left on Tuesday, and Jason called me. He was struggling doing everything that has to happen around here. With a large family, that’s a real lot. He can handle it, though. So we talked, and he was really fine. I missed him like crazy. While I was away I called, and texted, but it was quite busy. The first day he did our long-distance check-in (I explained how that works in this post when I went to last year's conference), and it worked well. I whispered my rules into the phone, and went about my day. 

Thursday we didn’t check in. That was a mistake.

I had some signs that things were starting to spiral out for me, but I ignored them. 

Jason and I have a heavy power exchange here. I rely on him for a lot. Readers have actually written to me (a good number), expressing concern about my dependency on him. “What would happen if he is gone?” they ask. “How will you function?” And yes, developing dependency is a concern, of course, but it’s a risk that we are willing to take. The pay-off of a working D/s relationship when we are both so inclined toward these roles is amazing. I simply would not trade it. 

As regular readers here know, Jason keeps my days pretty structured. Every day, he goes over my to-do list with me and helps order my day. He goes over my rules, and I go over his lap. 



This keeps me in my submissive head space, clears my mind, and gives me a good dose of feel-good hormones for the day ahead. I have an allowance and a budget, but I don’t spend a set amount of money without asking him first. He has very decided tastes in how I dress, and he picks out clothes for me. He has an opinion about my hair, my nails, and my make-up. He keeps me accountable to my health goals, doesn’t allow me sugar without permission, and makes sure I get to the gym. He pays all of our bills. When he takes me out to eat, I am not even allowed to look at the bill. I have a daily schedule I follow, and a bedtime. He manages my career by paying my bills, guiding my correspondences, and encouraging me to make sound business decisions. In short, my day is completely structured. We have routines. We have structure. He is my dominant partner, and I thrive under his leadership. 

When I was away, almost none of that happened. In retrospect, we really should have planned better. I assumed that having some time off from the structure would be great, and that I’d be so busy with my conference, I wouldn’t even miss it. Well, I was wrong. I really, really needed my daddy. 


By Friday, I was on the verge of spiraling. I tried on every outfit I’d brought with me, and couldn’t decide what to wear. Maisy gave me some advice, and I finally just decided on an outfit. I didn’t know if I should let my hair stay naturally curly or straighten it. I looked at the options for conference classes to go to, and couldn’t process it. I had taken in so much advice, and had many thoughts about my career progressing. It was exciting…but very overwhelming. We went out to a breakfast buffet with another writing friend, and they took out the conference list of workshops. I couldn’t handle the discussion. I didn’t know what was happening, but I didn’t feel good. I couldn’t breathe, or hear anyone talking. I simply looked at Maisy, got to my feet, grabbed my phone, and told her I had go.
She’s my best friend. She understood. 

I left the restaurant, called Jason, and thankfully he answered. I walked outside, where it was cool and lightly raining, and cried and cried on the phone to Jason. I am prone to anxiety attacks but haven’t had them in a while, and I hadn’t realized I was having one until I breathed in the cool air outside. Jason talked to me. I told him how overwhelming it all was, and even then hadn’t fully processed just how out of the norm I was. After I was calm again, he told me to call him again later, and I went back inside.

I was pretty embarrassed, but my friends were there, and they were understanding. I told them I’d had an anxiety attack. Maisy asked if we could identify what had triggered them and I really couldn’t yet, until I went upstairs and processed through everything. I talked to Jason again, made a plan, and the rest of the conference really was great. 

But I could not wait to get home. 

Essentially, what happened is that I wasn’t prepared for handling my day without the structure I’ve come to rely on. Am I capable of handling myself? Well, yes. But it was a serious reality check. Having a dynamic upon which a power exchange is built makes independence tricky. Is that enough of a reason not to have one then? Not for us. It simply means that I know now that I am dependent on him, and when we are apart, we will have to establish routine and structure. Eventually, when we can, he will likely travel with me. And some day if anything happened to him, I would have a hard go of it. I just would. But I would learn how to deal. I would have to. 

We’ve given this much thought. We’ve talked about it at length. Fear of separation simply isn’t enough of a reason to stop the exchange of power we’ve come to embrace. The pay-off is far too beautiful to give that up because of fear. Yes, I had an anxiety attack. But I survived it. Things happen. We learn, and we do better. We have no control over whether or not either of us will be here tomorrow. So today, we embrace this dynamic. 

When I came home, it was so nice to be back with my family. My kids hugged me, and I loved on them. I had missed them so very much. But when Jason came in the room, I held tight, and I couldn’t help it. I buried my head in his chest and cried. I needed my daddy. He held me for a very long time, until my tears subsided, and we gradually got back to where we were before I left. 

The next time this happens, we will have better systems in place. New routines? A way to keep the structure despite travel? And I will be aware of my own cues so that I can avoid a place of complete overwhelm again. 

But for now? I am so very happy to be back home with my daddy.

Friday, May 12, 2017

Why, hello!

Hello, readers. I’m a bit late in posting on Sunday (😉). I was traveling, and when I came home, there were far too many things to tend to, lots going on with our extended family, and I couldn’t find the time to blog. I am looking forward to my regular-scheduled post on Sunday, in which I relate how things went when I traveled away from Jason (hint: I didn’t handle it as well as I thought I would), and how things have gotten back to where they should be.

As I’m typing this, I have a separate browser open, because I am finishing a writing project. Jason is jamming away in the basement, and my kids are playing outside. My youngest just brought me a freshly-picked flower. It is sunny here but a bit chilly and breezy. Tonight I’ll go out with Maisy and have a bit of pampering. I’m looking forward to it. 

Annnnd... I am sitting on a very sore bottom. Why? Well, Jason likes to keep me in my submissive head space, and truth be told, I much prefer he does. I am happier there, he is happier when I am there, and we all live happily ever after. 

Six days of traveling, and I was so not in my submissive headspace. I felt the crotchety desire to tell him what to do, my domme-brain taking over, and I found it quite hard submitting to him. So what’s a good Dom to do in such a situation? Spank, of course. 

And spank…

And spank…

Yeah, it would be too much for some people, but I have one stubborn little brain, and I needed a good deal “taking down a peg or two” before I was back in my supple submissive state. I didn’t much enjoy it, and tried to ask for mercy, but he knew mercy wasn’t really what I needed. So now it hurts to sit, but mentally, I’m in a much better place. 

“Hi, Daddy,” “Please, daddy,” “Yes, Daddy,” is once again rolling off my tongue. No more stubborn little girl. I suppose those of us who are strong-willed submissives just need a really firm hand. 


I just wanted to check in and say hello, as it’s been a while since I’ve written. Peace is once again reigning, and I’m looking forward to being spoiled on Mother’s Day. But I bet I’ll still be spanked. Let’s just hope I can keep it in good girl territory. 😉

With love,
Jason’s Girl (Jane)