I received the following message from The Blogger Team yesterday. The last time we got a notifcation like this, I know many bloggers didn't receive it, so I thought I'd post it here for those who may have missed it.
Dear Blogger User,
We're writing to tell you about an upcoming change to the Blogger Content Policy that may affect your account.
In the coming weeks, we'll no longer allow blogs that contain sexually explicit or graphic nude images or video. We'll still allow nudity presented in artistic, educational, documentary, or scientific contexts, or where there are other substantial benefits to the public from not taking action on the content.
The new policy will go into effect on the 23 of March, 2015. After this policy goes into effect, Google will restrict access to any blog identified as being in violation of our revised policy. No content will be deleted, but only blog authors and those with whom they have expressly shared the blog will be able to see the content we've made private.
Our records indicate that your account may be affected by this policy change. Please refrain from creating new content that would violate this policy. Also, we ask that you make any necessary changes to your existing blog to comply as soon as possible, so that you won't experience any interruptions in service. You may also choose to create an archive of your content via Google Takeout (https://www.google.com/settings/takeout/custom/blogger).
For more information, please read here (https://support.google.com/blogger?p=policy_update).
The Blogger Team
Monday, February 23, 2015
Revisiting an oldie.
Some days, I just need to be reminded of who's in charge.
Some days, I just want a little motivation to do what I need to do.
A few days ago was one of those days.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed with the paddle next to him.
"Come here," he said. "Put yourself over my lap."
I lowered my pants and lay quietly over his lap.
He picked up the paddle.
"I think a good spanking will get you started on the right foot today," he said quietly.
I nodded into the bedspread. I didn't disagree. I knew I needed it.
Swat! He spanked me with the paddle.
"I want you to watch your speed when you're driving today," he said.
"No texting in the car, or doing anything that could get someone hurt."
He continued, firm but not terrible swats, stinging and serious, but nothing like a punishment.
"Remember to get to the gym, and get all your other goals taken care of."
"Make sure you watch your language in front of the kids," he continued.
"You will not sass me, or speak disrespectfully to me in any way."
As he continued, I felt my certainty returning. He is my rock, and my rock is steady.
"What will happen if you break one of these rules today?" he asked, his voice becoming sterner.
Swat, swat, swat!
This is so hard for me to answer.
"I get a spanking," I croaked out.
"Yes, you absolutely will. When I come home today, I want a good report. Is that understood?"
Swat! Swat! Swat!
"I don't want to have to come home and give you a punishment spanking because you broke a rule. Do you understand me?"
Swat! Swat! Swat!
"I won't! I'll be good!"
He put the paddle down and began to rub.
"That's my good girl," he murmured. "All done now. I know you will do what you need to do." He lifted me up. He hugged me, and kissed me.
And I felt immense relief. It was a bit intimidating. He can be very stern, and having my rules repeated to me was sobering.
But it was so, so encouraging. So reassuring. And that is the power of a role affirmation spanking. It isn't humbling, like a punishment. But it's so much more than a sexy spanking.
It says "I'm in control, and you don't have to be."
It says, "You can trust me."
It says, "I love you."
Thursday, February 12, 2015
I stand at my kitchen sink, frowning. I've lost my temper, and I need to confess. Jason is upstairs. It wasn't awful – none of what I used to be like. But I did raise my voice and yell at one of my kids who was exasperating me to no end, and I'm not allowed to do that. I did go to her and apologize shortly afterward. But still, I need to tell Jason.
I go upstairs and shut the door. I tell him I need to confess something, so he nods and lifts his arm and I snuggle up onto his chest, lift my eyes to his and my belly twists. He's looking at me with adoration, and I lose my resolve. “What is it?” he starts. “Did you leave the stove on?”
“Did you leave your hair straightener plugged in?”
“Did you text in the car?”
“No!” I finally blurt it all out and tell him what happened.
“Well, I know the situation is very frustrating, and it's hard keeping my own temper in check sometimes. So I understand. Still, you know I'll spank you for this.”
I nod. I do know. But it will be some time before we have any privacy. I start reading a book to distract me, and I fall into a deep sleep. I wake hours later, and he's downstairs, getting some down time. I just need him to take my bracelet off because I can't sleep well with it on and I'm not allowed to take it off (It's just one of our things, kinda similar to my collar). I scuffle downstairs and he tells me to go back to bed. But I have a history of pouting when he's getting his down time and I'm in bed alone, and he's strict about not letting me go there. I rarely do anymore, but he's still wary of it. So he sends me back to bed sternly. I go back to bed, but now I can't sleep, so I read again. I wish he'd come up. I don't like having a punishment, even a small one, hanging over my head, and I don't sleep well unless he's next to me.
I start letting my irritation fester, and now I'm starting to get angry at him. He's been down there hours. Isn't he ever going to come to sleep? I know he will not have forgotten he told me I'm in trouble. But then I stop myself.
He needs some down time. Let the man get some down time. Lord knows when you need it, he gives it to you without a second thought. Let him be.
He knows you're in trouble, but he's in charge here, not you.
So let it go and trust him.
And I feel at peace. After a short while, he comes in the room. “I don't like you coming down angry because I'm not up here.” I know that's not why I went down, so I simply tell him the truth.
“I didn't. I just wanted you to take my bracelet off.” He recognizes it for what it is – not backtalking, just clarification – and nods. My anger was after, when I was alone, and fortunately I worked my way around that. He gets ready for bed and climbs next to me. I wonder what he'll do about my punishment. He's exhausted now. Maybe he'll tell me to wait for the morning.
He doesn't. Softly, he says, “I need to give you ten, baby.”
I nod. There's something about how he's talking to me – that firm gentleness that inevitably stirs thankfulness in me – that makes me eager to take my punishment, put this behind us, and please him.
“Come and lie over my lap,” he says.
I obey, lie myself over his lap and lay my head on my arms, as he bares me and administers my punishment. When he's done, I curl up on his chest and he holds me. He chuckles at how I nearly pounce on him. I've missed him. I'm glad the punishment is behind us, and now I want to feel him.
“I'm sorry,” I say. “I will do better tomorrow.”
“Of course you will, baby,” he says, and I lean in and kiss him, feeling that jolt I do with the scruff of his beard on me. I wish it wasn't so late at night. I'd love for him to take this further. I'd be a willing participant. But he doesn't. The poor man is exhausted, and I know it. I slither down to the bed and roll over on my side, tucked up against him. I feel the length of his body, warm and strong, up against me, and his arm curls around my waist.
“We're so weird,” he murmurs, so sleepy now, it's a wonder he's still talking.
“Oh?” I ask.
“You know, curling up in bed together. And the sex. Don't you know it's like a rule that we're only supposed to be having sex on Valentine's Day and holidays and stuff? And we're breaking all the rules. We cuddle and have tons of sex. Total weirdos.”
I smother a giggle, as I'm thinking it's probably, by most people's standards, a little weirder that my husband just gave me a spanking for disobeying him. I settle down into his arms, feeling tired and content now, grateful for his appreciation for what we have. I yearn to please him. And I love knowing I make him happy.
“I like being weird,” I whisper, as we both settle down to sleep.