Thursday, June 26, 2014

One Year

Dear Readers, 

I realized recently that this little blog of ours has been up and running now for just over a year. It caused me to reflect back on the past year, how far we've come in so short a time. The struggles, the victories, how Jason and I have come to understand one another. It caused me to give thanks for the people I've met, and friends I have made. 

Writing about how we do things has, at times, been challenging. Sometimes, the challenge has been searching deep within myself for a complete understanding of how I'm feeling, how he feels, and sometimes, I feel I've only barely grasped the finer pieces of how it all fits together, as day by day we make this our own. 

Sometimes, especially as we faced serious challenges and our dynamic intensified, the challenge was taking this area of my life in which I am most vulnerable, and taking that vulnerability a step further, taking that risk and putting ourselves out there. It's hard to explain how that feels at times. It's like building something that is precious and dear to you, like an artist may feel about a work of art, and taking that risk to share it with others. You risk ridicule. You risk criticism. You risk being misunderstood. But I am so glad I took that risk. 

It's been so amazing getting to know some of you. I've enjoyed making friends, and learning about how others do things. 

It takes me longer to write things now, because as we progress, it's harder to put things into words. I often draft a post and take a week or so to fine-tune and edit. But this is not farewell. I have several posts drafted I plan on publishing, but the way things are going, it may take me a month or so! ;)

It's been amazing sharing this all with Jason. He reads this blog, and at times has put his own contributions in. I've loved being able to convey to him in writing things that somehow fall short when I try to put it in words. Things like thank you and this means so much to me, just don't convey how I truly feel, how he fulfills a desire of mine deep within me so beautifully, and so perfectly. 

But there is one thing I need to say to all of you, readers. One of the most beautiful aspects of blogging has been the feedback I've gotten from all of you. Yes, it's nice to hear the kind, and encouraging comments you all leave from time to time. But that's not what I'm referring to. 

What I love is hearing you tell me how you are trying hard at your own dynamics. How you're taking long, hard looks at yourselves and taking that risk, going down that road of self discovery. How you're falling short at times, but you're picking yourself up and trying again. 

You are courageous. You are humble. You love deeply. 

I cannot tell you how inspiring it is to hear from all of you, some of who have been married for decades and still had the courage to begin this journey. Some of you have tried and failed, and you're giving it a go again. Some of you are afraid, but willing to take that risk. Some of you have been badly hurt, but you've taken your challenges as opportunities to learn and grow. 

So I applaud you. I want to encourage you. 

Make this your own. There is no one way to do things. You will fall. You will risk being hurt. At times, things can be confusing. You may be frustrated or discouraged, but keep on going. Keep giving deeply from within yourself. 

My hope and prayer is that all of you find, as Jason and I have, that this is much more challenging than you ever thought it would be, but that it so much more beautiful than you ever imagined. 



Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Thank you

I snuggle up under his arm. 

"May I talk with you?"

"Of course," he says. "What's up?" 

And I spill. I tell him what's on my mind. 

"I just...have been thinking about how you hold me accountable for things, and how it just means a real lot to me. I love that you're not just my lover, and my friend, but that you're my teacher, too. You've helped me learn, and grow, and I don't know if I will ever be able to explain just how much that means to me." 

I am thinking of how he's helped me be more patient. He's taught me not to raise my voice, and to give others the benefit of the doubt. He's taught me how to have more temperance in my thoughts and actions. He's shown me, with his generous, forgiving nature, how to love others. 

He smiles and hugs me close. 

"I love you," he says. "And we are in this together." 

I marvel at that. He's told me it's not just about helping me grow but him, too. With every expectation he sets for me, he holds himself to an even higher standard, the two of us, learning together, helping each other along the way, challenging ourselves, facing our weaknesses and doing what it takes to overcome them. Step by step, day by day, two people making our way in this world side by side. 

Then he chuckles. 

"What's so funny?" 

"The way you were talking there, I thought you were going to say you think you don't need this anymore." 

I laugh, but part of me is a little...nervous? I hate the idea of not having this anymore. It means so much to me. It means so much to both of us. 

"Not happening, babe," I say. "I can't imagine not having this anymore." 

I smile. "And anyway, what would you say if I said I didn't want this anymore?" 

He narrows his eyes and gives me that look that I adore, the stern smirk that makes my heart threaten to leap out of my chest. "I would pull you over my lap and give you a spanking." 

I laugh out loud. "Of course you would. And the next time I mouthed off, you wouldn't be able to help yourself. Your twitchy palm would take over and I'd be over your lap before you even knew what you were doing." 

"Of course," he says. 

The next thing you know, he's flipping me over and pinning me against his side. 

Swat!

I'm laughing, pushing against him, trying to get away, but it's no use. I'm at the mercy of his vice-like grips and paddle hands. 

Swat! Swat! Swat!

After I'm sufficiently put in my place, both of us laughing, me groaning a bit, he kisses me and says, "I love you, baby girl." 

I lift up on my elbow and lean in, kissing him. His hand is on the back of my neck, my hand flat on his chest, as we kiss goodnight. He is everything to me. I feel tears clog my throat and I swallow hard. 

"I love you, too," I whisper. "Thank you." 

Thursday, June 5, 2014

The Story of Us (Part two)



This is part two of a two-part series. The first part is here (and some of this post has been reposted to my author page). 

He smiled. "You want me to spank you?" 

I swallowed hard, bit my lip and nodded. "Yes," I whispered. "I've been reading some stories and..., it sounds really, really hot." 

He chuckled at my eagerness, then sobered. When he does something, he wants to do it right. "Over my lap? With my hand?" 

Just hearing those words come out of his mouth caused me to gasp. I felt like someone had lit a fire under me. Mouth dry, heart pounding, I nodded. "Yes. Please. I want it so badly. But it has to be a real spanking. It has to hurt, not a joke." 

He was completely sober at this point. All humor gone from his face, his voice lowered and he said, "Get over my lap." I obeyed, shaking with excitement and nervousness.

He stripped me. And then he spanked me. 

He was a natural. He knew exactly how to do it, just the right amount of pain and pleasure. When he was done, I was sore. And I was so ready for him. We made love, and it was the most amazing, intense, incredible experience we had ever had. And when I settled back into his arms, I wept. 

"Are you crying?" he asked, and I could only nod as I cried, and I cried, and I cried. I had never cried when we made love before, not once, not even on our honeymoon, the first time we ever made love. 

"I don't know why I'm crying," I said, completely shocked at the intensity of the feelings that consumed me. "I just feel so emotional right now." 

He held me close, and for the first time, he did what he would eventually do many, many times again. He told me it was okay. He told me he understood. He told me he loved me. 

I fell asleep next to him. And the next day, I looked at him differently. 

He seemed somehow...stronger. More authoritative. Sexier

I had somehow unleashed my desire for his dominance and his desire for my submission on a deeper, more intimate level. 

He became an expert at spanking me, at building up the anticipation. I drew heavily from the way he did things in my post on how to give a good girl spanking. Our entire relationship was set on fire.

As we incorporated erotic spanking into our love making, things began to change. I focused heavily on obeying him, more so than ever. I loved his leadership. I saw him in a different light. I felt like a school girl all over again. Texts or emails from him would make my heart stutter just as it had so many years ago. We spent every possible moment with one another. 

Maybe it seems exaggerated. But I promise, it's not. Truly, our entire marriage become much more highly charged. 




I kept reading. 

And yet, I was troubled. I would google things like, "Is it weird that I want my husband to spank me?"

And I felt myself drawn over and over again to the blogs written by women who were spanked. I would read stories. I found that the more I read, the more I was drawn to the stories of spanking that was disciplinary. It was just somehow more attractive to me. I couldn't explain it. And yet, I denied that discipline spanking was anything I wanted from Jason, because that is where I drew the line. 

I told myself things like 

I don't need his discipline. 

I can do things on my own.


This is just something that's sexy and fun. 


It's wrong for a man to discipline his wife. 


I am not a child. 


And my justifications -- my denial, you could call it -- went on, and on, and on.  

I came across a blog that is no longer active, written by a DD couple. I read one post again, and again, and again. It was written by the husband, and he wrote about using stress-relief spanking to help his wife relax. The way he described how he did it, and the way he described her reaction, sounded wonderful. 

So one day, after a particularly stressful day, I told Jason about it. I asked him if he would be willing to give it a shot. 

"So you want a spanking, not a foreplay spanking, but just a spanking to help you relax​?" 

I nodded. 

"Tonight, after the kids go to bed," he promised. And it was wonderful. He put me over his lap, and spanked me, and when he was done I felt like a weight had been lifted. I felt calmer, and centered. I slept soundly. Maybe these people were on to something.

So stress relief spanking was added to our routine. It started me thinking, though, as it was different than just sexy. Getting spanked for reasons that didn't end with sex was an entirely different feeling altogether.

The blog I read caused me to start seeing discipline spanking a bit differently. This couple didn't sound like the other ones I had read about. Here was a couple that admitted there was an erotic appeal, and yet he spanked her if she disobeyed him. It was very real. They weren't playing at it. But their relationship somehow seemed a bit more like mine and Jason's. The husband was firm, but loving, and there was something about that I craved.

I found myself playing little games in my head, pretending I would be disciplined if I came home late, or talked back. I began doing my daily tasks, telling myself if I didn't, I would answer to Jason. I was so drawn to real discipline. I couldn't deny it. But still, my head wouldn't let me go there. We'd worked so hard at building what we had. I hated the idea of doing something that would change us. 

If Jason hadn't taken the initiative and disciplined me on his own, I don't know if I ever would have asked him for Domestic Discipline. 

One morning, we were getting dressed. Apologies to those who have read about the first time, but it fits into the story here. 

I told Jason I was struggling meeting a goal of mine. He was dressed, and he had his belt in hand. He turned to me, gave me a stern look, and said something like, "Maybe a real spanking would motivate you." 

I was shocked. Appalled. But, curiously attracted. 

"A real spanking?" I gulped. Was he talking about what I thought he was talking about?

"Yep," he said decidedly. "Not a sexy one. A real punishment spanking." 

He knew how I felt about discipline spanking! I told him I didn't want that! How could he threaten a real spanking? I was nervous, and in an effort of self-protection, or perhaps challenging him to man up and do what I truly craved, I giggled. "You wouldn't!" 

Oh, he would. 

His eyes flashed, he moved across the room toward me, belt in hand, bent me over the bed, and without another word, landed a few stinging swats. He had never, not once, spanked me with his belt before. He'd mostly used his hand. It hurt way more than I thought it would, and I yelped, clutching my stinging bottom.

He stood up, threading his belt through the loops on his pants. 

"You do what you did again, there will be more of that, I promise." 

I was shocked, for several reasons. First, that he had gone over the edge and spanked me "for real." Second, that he was dead serious. And third, because I was completely drawn to being disciplined. 

As the day went on, I thought about it. I read some more. I had no one to talk to. I didn't know there was a community at the time, and the few friends I had who shared my love of sexy spanking surely wouldn't understand that he'd just told me I would get a real spanking. 

In the course of my reading, I came across a website called "Taken in Hand."

Oh, glory hallelujah, finally, what I had been looking for. Someone who understood the workings of my mind and heart! Other people who understood me! I read more and more.

About a week later, I earned myself that "real" punishment spanking. I wondered if he would really follow through. I will never forget that spanking. He got his belt, took me over his knee, lectured me, and made me count out loud ten swats. He strapped me hard. When he was done, as I stood in front of him like a naughty little girl, rubbing my stinging bottom, he hugged me and told me if I ever did it again, he would punish me again. I was absolutely mortified. I was repentant. I was, indeed, motivated. 

And I was forever changed. 

I knew now that I wanted to be disciplined. I craved the certainty of a firm, but loving hand. After he punished me, I knew beyond a doubt that real discipline was something I wanted. 

Although he had no problem whatsoever spanking me for a handful of infractions, a full on Domestic Discipline relationship was something he wasn't interested in. He felt the handful of discipline spankings he doled out would help me get over whatever hump I needed to get over, and that would be that. I remember him telling me, "I don't want to change you. I like you the way you are." He wanted me to still be his wife, his friend, his partner. 

He feared that an all-encompassing DD dynamic would change him. He didn't want to be domineering. In many ways, he is a liberal, modern kinda guy, who believes women are strong and capable. He hated the idea of somehow slipping into a chauvinistic mindset. 

In short, he struggled with some of the hang-ups I struggled with as I wrestled out my desire to be disciplined. What would happen if I allowed him to discipline me? Would we change who we were forever? Would it push us apart? Would I lose my independence and will? Would we lose our ability to play, and laugh, and tease each other? 

But still, I asked him. Honestly, after I had lost my temper and we would argue, and he'd withdraw, I would beg him. Spank me. Just spank me when I lose my temper, please. 

I wanted that peace the other Taken in Hands talked about...that feeling of knowing he was strong enough to stand up to me. I knew he was strong enough to be our leader. Of that, I had no doubt.

One day, after we had a mild DD dynamic in place, I lost my temper with him in front of our kids. Over the heads of our children, as we ate dinner, he glared at me. I was shocked, as I'd completely justified my anger with him, and even though I'd acted like a complete brat, I didn't think he had a right to be angry. He mouthed across the table at me, "After dinner, upstairs." 

I'd bought a new implement to use during our hanky spanky games. I wondered...

Dinner was over, and he began directing the kids to clear the table. He was looking at me sternly. 

"Go upstairs, and wait for me," he instructed. 

I laughed. Surely, he wasn't serious. But oh, he was dead serious. 

"There is nothing funny about this," he said. "Go." 

I'd gotten enough spankings from him. I knew when he was serious. I had never been spanked for being rude to him, though, so I didn't know what to expect. I was nervous, but I was also in denial. Hadn't I been justified in losing my temper? I laid down on my bed, and as I lay there, I heard him quietly directing our kids to clean the table. I heard him lead the way he does, with quiet confidence. And as I waited for him, I realized I was in the wrong. I had been a total selfish brat. I hadn't treated him with the respect he deserved. 

I felt guilty. 

He sent the kids to the other side of the house, and I heard him coming upstairs. My heart was pounding so badly. He came into the room, stern and formidable. 

"Where's the brush?" he demanded, and without a word, I pointed to where I'd left it. 

"Come here and lie over the bed," he instructed. 

Shaking with nervousness, I obeyed. He laid the brush on my bottom, and he lectured me. He told me why what I did was wrong. He told me how it had disrupted the peace in our home. And he told me how he wouldn't allow me to treat him that way anymore. By the time he spanked me, I was already in tears. 

He gave me a long, hard spanking. When he was done, I cried my eyes out. He held me, and I felt the guilt I had was no longer there. All I felt now was repentance. He kissed away my tears. I knew this was behind us, now, and as he held me I felt loved.

The next day, he said, "Well, we will add that to the list." I call this list "the theoretical list of spankable offenses." We don't have a real list, or a contract, or anything like that but I knew if he said "that's on the list" it was something I would get spanked for. 

It was at that point that I asked him if I could look into finding a community of people who lived like this. I did. I ended up finding forums, and a chat room. It was amazing. I didn't feel so alone anymore. There were other people like me, other people like us. I was consumed with the whole idea of Domestic Discipline. I spent all my free time reading about it, chatting in the community, learning how others did things. 

I pushed Jason, hard. I wanted it all and I wanted it now

We ended up having stress in our marriage over this. In fact, he forbade me from discussing anything whatsoever about DD for a while. I was frustrated. I was hurt. I knew so badly what I wanted, and I was angry I couldn't communicate that need to him.  

Jason said things like, "I don't feel right about disciplining you the way other people do it. That's not me. That's not us." It upset me that he didn't show the interest that I did. 

We had many, many issues we had to work through. And this is why I often tell people who seek this kind of dynamic, it's so important to remember, there are growing pains. One couple's dynamic is not another's. There is so much trial and error. You need to communicate your needs to one another, but it can't be one-sided. There are high highs and low lows. It takes a great deal of time and experience before you really iron out the way things will work for you as a couple.

I was so eager to have a full-on DD dynamic, I pushed him, hard. I would tell him 

That's not the way you do it. 

You didn't spank me the right way. 


Why aren't you being consistent? 


I need to be lectured. 


He told me over and over and over again, "If we do this, we do this my way. I'm not going to do it the way other people do it." 

He didn't spank me when and how I wanted. Other couples did this thing called "maintenance." He wouldn't. When I did something I thought spankable, and he didn't punish me, I would accuse him of being inconsistent. 

In short, I made it all about me

What I didn't understand was that my efforts to control things were the complete opposite of submission. 

We were at risk for damaging our marriage. Things weren't good at all. This wasn't what I had read about. We weren't closer. We fought more than we ever had. He finally told me one day, "I don't know if this is something I can continue." 

I was devastated. I knew how badly I wanted this. I felt firmly having this dynamic had the potential of making things wonderful between the two of us. I know how loved I felt when he disciplined me. What was hardest for me to bear was when he withdrew from me. I hated the idea of him withdrawing discipline. 

It was then that I got some advice from others that would change the way I did things. 

I had to take a long, hard look at myself. I had to accept the fact that I had made this all about me

I wanted this so badly, I had stopped to ask myself what it was that he needed. 

I got some advice that was incredibly valuable, that I now frequently give to others who struggle with similar issues. 

You are the only one you can change. Submission brings about dominance.

This was a new concept. Huh. Instead of me focusing so heavily on what he was doing wrong, I began to focus on what I was doing wrong. Here I was, with a loving husband who provided for our family, loved me with all his heart, and led us with confidence. And I was tearing him down with my criticism and complaints. And I said I wanted to submit? I was nowhere near being submissive. 

I decided I would no longer criticize him. I would submit to him, even if he never disciplined me again. 

I already obeyed him. Now was the time I needed to let him lead the way he felt best. I finally realized that telling him how to lead was the complete opposite of submission.

If he decided I didn't need a spanking, I wasn't going to tell him he was being inconsistent. I would accept the fact that it was his call! Certainly, if he was the Hoh, he had the right to decide when to dole out punishment and when to dole out mercy. In short, I began respecting his leadership instead of trying to control it. 

But still, I had thoughts and feelings I needed to tell him. So I got another piece of advice that changed things. 

Don't tell him what he's doing wrong. Tell him you need his help. 

So instead of saying, "You didn't spank me when I needed  you to," I would say, "I feel guilty about this. Will you help me?" 

I said things like, 

"I feel so much safer when you lead me." 

"I love when you don't allow me to lose my temper." 


"I feel like a weight has been lifted when you take charge." 


I started thanking him for things he did, telling him I appreciated all his efforts for our family. When he disciplined me, I thanked him for helping me grow and change. 

We began to have peace again. And as I communicated my needs -- as I built him up, as I submitted to him, as I accepted the way he led us -- things began to change. He began to understand what I wanted. He saw that I was giving him room to lead. 

I got over my desire to control things, because I decided it was the most loving thing to do. 

He got over his hang-ups about disciplining me, because he decided it was the most loving thing to do. 

In short, we each learned to take our focus off ourselves, and to focus on the needs of the other. 

He worked hard at leading me, teaching me, disciplining me when I needed it. He saw how much better things were between the two of us. 

I worked hard at pleasing him, submitting to his leadership. I saw how much more confident he grew. 

I did my very, very best to show him how grateful I was for all he did. I worked hard at thanking him. I made sure I respected him, and submitted in every possible way. 

He made me feel cherished, and loved. He took care of me, protected me, and led me. 

Things certainly did change, but for the better. We had peace in our relationship. Disagreements were easier to settle. The highly-charged erotic appeal of our relationship intensified. Every time he instructed me to kneel. Every time his hand fisted in my hair at the nape of my neck. Ever time I whispered "yes, sir."  Every time he said, "I love you, baby girl." Every time he took me over his knee. Every time he put down his book to talk to me, to listen to what troubled me. Every time I smiled at him and thanked him for taking care of us and leading us. Little by little, day by day, we grew closer to each other. 

I told him, "You've become the Hoh of my dreams, you know." 

And he told me, "I never knew what this could do for our relationship." 

I made him feel ten feet tall when I submitted to him. 

He made me feel like the most cherished girl in the world.

And that is why we do what we do. That is why we will never go back to the way things were. 

The other night, I was laying with my head in his lap, as I frequently do. He leaned down and hugged me, and said, "Time for bed, baby girl." I was groggy, as I sat up and stretched, and took my time about it. He leaned down and said quietly, but more firmly this time, "Let's go now." I stood quickly to obey him, as I well know he expects me to do what he says immediately. I folded my blanket and put it down, then went straight upstairs where I got ready for bed. I went to our bedroom, and climbed into bed, where I waited for him. 

He came in the room, settled into bed himself and lifted his arm. "Come here," he instructed. I snuggled under his arm and we talked a bit. I felt so incredibly happy. So at peace. So madly in love. He kissed the top of my head and said, "Time to sleep now." I rolled over to my side, and as soon as I did he gave me a firm swat, then tucked the blanket over me. A reminder that he told me to go to sleep, so I am to obey him. No more talking. A reminder that I am his, "my girl," he calls me. A reminder that he loves me. 

I fell asleep feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.