Saturday, December 26, 2015

The Pursuit of Harmony

Recently, I mentioned to a d/s acquaintance of mine that Jason and I had gotten into an argument. I told her, “I should blog about this. I write a lot about positive things, but forget to share the negative things as well.” 

And, I promptly forgot that I was going to blog about it. Those moments are fleeting, and it's easy to move on to the fun stuff. 

Arguing is very rare. But it still happens. Sometimes he says things he shouldn't and sometimes I say things I shouldn't. Misunderstandings happen. Feelings get hurt. Outside stresses put pressure on our relationship. And no, there are no arguments like there used to be, but still, things come up.

We got into an argument a few weeks ago. He was grumpy, and irritable, and snapped at me over something. It's rare he speaks so harshly to me. I had a few choices. I could've snapped back. And in the moment, maybe that would've felt good. But we do have a rule that's very strictly enforced, that if I'm rude or disrespectful to him, I will be punished. Even if I'm provoked, the disrespect isn't tolerated. 

Now, maybe that doesn't seem fair. But what are the alternatives? 

One alternative is that if Jason is the one at fault, I could punish him. Though I respect that particular method applies to some people, it does not work for us. Neither he nor I have the slightest desire for me to have the authority to punish him. 

Hmmm. So, option two. He could decide that since we were both at fault, I shouldn't be punished. He's done this before, and although I respect that, I usually end up feeling quite awful after having disrespected him. And he hasn't taken that approach in quite some time, now that his expectation for my respect, obedience and submission to him are so very high. I'm not allowed even the slightest form of disrespect. 

And I love that I'm not. 

Is it strict? Yes. But I'm attracted to Jason's authority over me, and because of that, it works so much better that he enforce strict expectations regarding my submission to him. We both much prefer it this way. 

So on this particular day, my response to him was to grow very quiet. That was something I had to learn. Responding by being quiet when I'm upset isn't something that comes naturally to me. But it's very rare that Jason is irritable or impatient with me. What happened in this situation, is that I'd had a different expectation regarding what we were doing that afternoon, and he snapped that we weren't doing that at all. At first, I didn't say anything to him. Then I simply said, “Okay. I understand. I just need a minute to adjust my expectations, please.” He kind of growled and glared – oh, what a bear when he's angry! But thankfully, I stayed in my submissive place. 

And that was the extent of our argument. We disagreed. And this time, I was able to keep my cool. Because I maintained an attitude of submission, it was very shortly after that he called me to him, and he apologized. 

It doesn't always happen that way, though. 

More recently, I said something that upset him. I was feeling overwhelmed and stressed, and made an offhand comment about his parents. I shouldn't have, I know, but let's be honest – people don't make in-law jokes for nothing. They can be stressful relationships. And when it's a real serious issue, Jason always goes to bat for me and removes that stress, but sometimes, I let the little things bother me. This was one of those times. 

He snapped back at me, a reactionary comeback that cut me. It's so rare he treats me that way. And I was hurt. So without even thinking, I snapped back at him, muttered swear words and all. Lovely. 

We were both angry. The moment was quite heated. He wanted to talk it out, and I didn't want to. I asked him to leave me alone. We were driving at the time, and we both sort of simmered. We managed to keep our voices low and no one yelled, but after the initial hurtful comments, nothing more was said. He explained to me why he was upset, while I nursed my wounds and quietly said not much of anything. 

I did my very best to self talk. “He never speaks to you like this. You shouldn't have said that and hurt him. Just be quiet and don't let this fester. Let this go and don't let it ruin your day.” 

And I managed to mostly calm my hurt. But when we got home, Jason gave me “the look,” and the very first thing he said was, “I want you upstairs, now.” 

I obeyed, truly wanting this argument to end and be behind us. And even if I didn't, I know better than to push when he instructs me like that. 

The very first thing he did when he brought me upstairs was point to the floor. I dropped to my knees in front of him. This is how we do things. He instructs, I kneel, and we're both immediately in our places. 

“I'm sorry,” he said. That was all I needed. He knew he'd snapped at me. And it was so easy to forgive him. 

“It's okay," I said. "I know why you said what you did. And I'm sorry, too,” I responded. We talked it out.

“You know you're not allowed to swear and speak disrespectfully to me,” he said. I nodded. He patted his lap. I stood, and he swiftly bared me and positioned me over his knee. I closed my eyes and crossed my legs and took the spanking I knew I deserved. And moments later, it was behind us. He hugged me, I held on tight, and we moved on with our day. We didn't say another word about it. There were no more hurt feelings. There was no more anger. I felt put back in my submissive place, and when I'm there, I feel at peace, and ready to follow his lead. 

It's tricky when there's one person in authority over another. It's tricky knowing how to proceed. Here, Jason expects me to be respectful and obedient no matter what the circumstances. And he also is humble enough to admit fault when the situation warrants it. But allowing me to be disrespectful or rude when we have a disagreement simply doesn't fly. 

Do we still argue? We do. It's not often, but things still happen that cause occasional stress. However, DD has given us the tools to make those moments rare -- the tools to keep communication open and frequent, and when things go awry, a quick solution that gets us back to harmony in the relationship. 

Thursday, December 24, 2015

'Twas the Night of a Spanking

Time for a re-run! Merry Christmas lovely readers! I'm taking this weekend off and will post next week. 

A Spanko Christmas Tale

'Twas the night of a spanking
And all through the house,
Not a laptop was stirring,
Not even a mouse.

The phones were shut off
No t.v. did blare,
She knew for a spanking,
Soon she'd be bare.

When deep in the room,
There arose such a clatter!
Her husband came running
To see what was the matter!

She sheepishly stood
With her hairbrush in hand,
Pretending to brush
Her long, golden strands.

He narrowed his eyes,
And sauntered quite close,
For what did he spy,
Tucked under her clothes?

The paddle, the strap,
The cane, and the switch!
His arms, they did flex.
His palms, they did twitch.

"You thought you could hide them?"
He asked with a chuckle.
She giggled, then cringed
As he reached for his buckle.

"Forgot about that,"
She said, as she tried
To sneak out the door
To save her poor hide.

"Over the bed!" he said, 
As he caught
Her elbow with ease,
And landed a swat.

"Nice try there, young lady,"
He laughed with a push.
As he gleefully eyed
Her cute little tush.

"You're lucky you're cute,"
He said, as she felt
The first stinging swat
Of his thick leather belt.

She yelped, and she squirmed,
But it helped not at all.
Her Caveman, he held her,
That belt, it did fall.

When finally done,
He held her quite near.
Secure in his arms,
She had nothing to fear.

"Don't try it again," 
He said with a hug.
But she eyed the frayed edge
Of their ivory shag rug.

"I won't! I'll be good!"
She ventured to say.
For the rest of the night 
She thought, just today.

"Yeah, right, baby girl,"
He said with a kiss.
He well knew the mind
Of his sweet little miss.

Saturday, December 19, 2015


Haven't done a fun/sexy post in a while, and a reader requested this. So it was fun to jot down these things Jason has said recently. 

"Poor girl has a headache. Come here, baby. I know how I can take your mind off that pain."

"Every time you sit over the next few days, you will remember how I expect you to speak to me." 

"Present yourself to me."

"I love you too much to allow you to behave that way." 

"If you're naughty, you'll get a spanking. If you're'll get a spanking." 

I'm coming from a shower and tease him with my wet towel, snapping at the air in front of him. I'm not foolish enough to actually hit him. "Look what I can do with my towel," I say teasingly. He raises an eyebrow. "Look what I can do with my belt."

"I want you sore so you know I love you."

"Naughty girls get punished. Good girls get rewarded."

"We have a little matter to attend to. Come here, NOW."

"I want to see you upstairs."

"Is that right, young lady? Do you have anything else to say for yourself before I paddle you?"

"You know I have to spank you for that."

"Take 'em off." 

"What happens to little girls who don't remember their place?"

"Over my knee now."

"Of course it hurts. It's a spanking, not an ice cream sundae."

"Don't. Move."

If you enjoyed this post, you may want to head on over to my friend Joli's page, where she wrote a very similar post recently! HOH Sayings

Saturday, December 12, 2015

Ohhhh, Oh Mercy Mercy Me...

On Thanksgiving, I was more than a little stressed because we were hosting. In many ways, I prefer hosting. It's easier than carting the kids all over the place, and I like being in the comfort of my own home. But I'm introverted, and get stressed by social situations. I was pretty wound up, and Jason and I were alone in the car, going to pick up his father. I was telling him about a new recipe I tried. 

“Don't tell my mom,” he commented wryly. “If it's new, she will make up her mind she won't like it.” 

Now, you'd think I'd know by now, the difference between a suggestion and an instruction. At this point, I truly heard what he said as a suggestion.

He had a point. And I thought it was a good point. And I don't exactly remember how it happened. I think one of my kids brought it up, but in any event I didn't take Jason's advice. I told her about the new recipe.

And sure enough, there were disastrous results. 

Later that evening, when we were alone again, debriefing from the day, I commented, “I should've listened to you,” and told him what happened. He grew quiet and stern. 

“I thought I told you not to say anything.” 

I was taken aback. I'd truly viewed his comment as a suggestion, not an instruction. 

“Oh,” I said. “Yes, and it probably would've been best if I'd done exactly that.” 

But by now, he was being quite stern. “Are you supposed to obey me?” He asked. I sensed the shift in our conversation. It was no longer conversational. His tone had become scolding. 

“I am,” I said in a small voice. I was surprised he was being so stern and began to grow worried. “Are you going to spank me for this?” 

“Yes,” he said. “You're supposed to do as you're told.” 

I said no more at that point. We were nearing home, and I was fighting a variety of emotions.

When Jason and I were new to this, the realization that I would be punished was both arousing and even a bit exciting, even if I didn't like disappointing him. His authority is attractive to me, and before we really embraced this lifestyle, I was heavily drawn to the idea of consistent discipline. 

Things are quite different now. There is no doubt that if he decides I need to be punished, he will punish me. And three years into this, I have a very strong dislike of any type of correction from him, even a small reprimand. I aim to please him. The knowledge that I'm going to be punished makes me sad. He takes disciplinary spankings seriously and I don't enjoy them one bit. 

So when we got home, I had a heaviness about me, knowing I'd be punished. But those weren't the only feelings I was fighting. I really hadn't meant to disobey him. It had been such a long day. I was weary, and unsettled, and I was unhappy about the punishment I had looming over me. As the day wound down, I went up to where Jason was alone. I didn't say anything, simply began to get ready for bed. I wasn't moping or dismal, but a bit withdrawn. 

“You look sad,” he said. “Are you sad because you know I'm going to punish you?” 

I nodded. “May I talk to you?” I asked quietly. He gestured for me to come over. 

I snuggled up to him. 

“I just want to tell you how I feel,” I said quietly. He waited. 

I took a deep breath and spilled all. 

“When you said what you did earlier, I really took it as a suggestion, not an instruction,” I explained. “Honestly, if I thought for a minute that you were giving me an instruction, I would have obeyed you. I'll admit, when I talked to your mom, I felt a twinge of guilt. I thought maybe it wasn't the best thing to do, but I didn't see it as disobedient. I'm not sure I feel right about being punished for this. You know I want to please you. But I didn't mean to disobey you.” 

He put his finger under my chin, and looked at me. He wasn't stern anymore, but very gentle. “And you think it's best I grant you mercy this time?” 

I nodded. “I do.  But after having said all that, I've told you how I feel and I trust you. I'm not trying to talk my way out of punishment, but just tell you where my head is. And if you decide that I should still be punished, I'll take my punishment.” 

He held me close. “I'm not going to punish you this time,” he said. “And I have to tell you, I'm proud of you. It took a lot for you to come up here and tell me all this. And that makes me proud.” 

And I began to cry. 

“Why are you crying, baby?” he said. “Don't cry. You're not in trouble.” 

And I sniffled all over him that I love him, and I want to please him, and I really do hate getting into trouble, and that I was sorry that I hadn't listened to him. 

“See, this is why I don't need to punish you,” he said. “You're already sorry. Now we'll put this behind us. Just stay with me until you feel better, and we'll say no more about this.” 

And I did. I finished my sniffling, and I felt lighter. Understood. Cherished. 

And despite the fact that I hadn't been punished, I felt more determined than ever to obey him. 

Sometimes the extension of mercy is every bit as effective as a harsher chastisement. 

Friday, December 4, 2015

Will You Be My Dom Forever?

It's early morning and we're having a deliciously lazy check-in. I'm laying in bed with Jason, snuggled up on his chest, and his fingers are entwined with mine. I look up at him. I've been feeling contemplative lately. 

“Will you always be my Dom?” I ask him. 

He smiles, and nods. “Yes.” 

“Even when we're old and gray and hobbling around?” 

“Yes, baby, even then," he says with a smile.

“Even when I don't need to be spanked anymore?” 

He gives me a wry smile. “Oh, you're always gonna need to be spanked.” 

I give him a mock-affronted look. “Maybe not always.” 

He raises a brow. “No, you'll always need to be spanked.” 

"Even when you are hobbling around on a cane?" I frown, though he knows I'm not at all upset. "You'll find a use for that cane, even then," I mutter.

He chuckles. "Yup."

“Well, maybe so. I think even when we're old, and I'm perfectly well behaved, you'll still be my Dom, even then.” 

“Yes, baby. You'll always be submissive to me.”  


“Yes, always.” 

The time will come when our children will be grown. And I'm not sure how that will change things, when my stress is lower and my need to be dommed may not be so high. Will his need to Dom me be as high? For all I know, they'll be higher. And I've asked myself, will he still want this then? 

His insistence that he will is somehow reassuring, because when he says he will always be my Dom, this is what I hear. 

I will always be here for you. 

I will always protect you. 

I will always take care of you, and you can always depend on me.