It's been a little crazy here.
I've had various jobs over the years, but easing my way into being a work-at-home mom is a bit of a different scenario. I am so thankful that I get to do the work that I love. And several months later, I feel like I have a much better handle on my schedule and priorities, but, like anything, there's an adjustment period. Sometimes I get too thoroughly immersed, and sometimes I don't focus.
And y'all know what happens when I lose my focus, right?
But the beauty of this lifestyle is that when I lose my focus, Jason is there to put my focus back where it needs to be. If I sway or falter, there he is again to remind me where my priorities lie, and how important it is to obey him.
That's what happened this week.
My daily routine is that I get up in the morning, have my coffee, and focus on my day. I'll spend a brief time checking my messages and popping online, but then shut everything out and go into my writing cave. After that, I typically go for a run or hit the gym, and then I bring Jason his coffee. Although I get up early, lately I've been trying to squeeze in a few more things. Just one more errand. Just one more...whatever. And, ahem...his coffee is being delivered later and later. Not good.
So yesterday, I come in fresh from my workout, all ready for my shower, and I put his coffee on our nightstand. He's just waking up with those sleepy-sexy eyes. Most mornings, I get a groggy, “Mornin', baby girl.” Yesterday morning, he was sober, and his eyes were stern (usually he needs a little caffeine to get to that stage, but not yesterday). He gave me that look of rebuke, both eyebrows raised, not a trace of a smile on his face.
“What time is it?” My heart thumped a bit and I sat down next to him, hanging my head a little. I told him the time.
“You're coming to me later and later,” he said, picking up his coffee. “Haven't I already spanked you for this once before?” I nodded. He did. And I've been just squeaking by, hoping he hadn't really been noticing.
But he notices everything.
“Yes, sir. You did. I'm sorry I've been late." Heart pounding a little, I asked the question. "Am I in trouble?”
He shook his head. “Not today, but don't let it happen again.” I nodded, and got up and ready for my shower. But as I showered, I realized there really were a myriad of things I needed to tell him about. Now, I'm not talking about very serious things, but he does have high expectations for me, and I hadn't met those expectations. And as I stood in the steaming hot water, closing my eyes and preparing for the day, I steeled myself for what I knew would come. I knew when I told him how I'd completely forgotten to do what was on top of my list the night before, and I didn't do what he told me to, that he would spank me for it. I knew he would spank me hard. I'm supposed to tell him these things in our evening check-in's. Although I didn't tell myself, “don't tell him,” I didn't focus on complete honesty, either.
And I knew I needed to.
So I got out of the shower, and went in our room, tossed off my towel and climbed into bed. (He liked this. ;) )
Now, I wasn't trying to distract him, truly. I just suddenly felt the very strong desire to be physically close to him. Ironically...I needed him to help me gather up the strength to face him. Funny, isn't it? But really, it was that I needed him to help me face my consequences.
I pulled up the covers and snuggled in close. He immediately pulled me into him, chuckling, running one hand down my bare skin. I squeezed my eyes shut and draped my arm around his chest. I came right out with it.
“I've not done what I was supposed to,” I said quickly. He was quiet, just holding me, as I told him all the little things I hadn't been bringing to him, how I forgot to do what he asked, hadn't taken care of my own needs (one of my priorities), and neglected a few things that were essential, things that always get me in trouble if I forget. I just sort of told him every little thing that was bothering me.
Holding me up close, he did not scold or lecture. He simply said, “Honey, what can I do to help you? I want to help you take some of these things off your plate.”
And we talked about things that were on my mind. What was most important. And how to avoid getting myself in this position again. He spoke gently, listened to all that I had to say, while holding me. Jason has a really good head for managing things. It's what he does for his job, and one thing that makes him such a very good Dominant. And he says the easiest way to handle things when I'm overwhelmed is focus on what's most important then. To focus on the immediate, most pressing priority, and tackle things one at a time.
After we'd talked it all out, I was still lying beside him. “Are you going to spank me?” That's when he grew stern, nodding his head.
“I am going to spank you. But I want you to tell me why.”
“Because I lost my focus.”
He shook his head. “No. That was not why. Think again.”
I'd been given specific instructions, and not done them. I felt a bit ashamed, and my voice dropped. “Because I disobeyed you,” I whispered.
He nodded. “That's exactly right.”
So he did what he always does. Brought me to the edge of the bed so he can place me over his lap. Fetched out that dreaded rod thing, and had me kneel. I was already crying at this point, not sobbing, but sort of sniffling. I really don't like to be punished.
He put the rod down and held my chin in his hands. He makes me look into those blue-gray eyes, and it always does something to me. It's not just that I love him. It's not just that. It's not just that I know how precious I am to him when he makes me look in his eyes. There's a reason he always makes me kneel and look into his eyes before he punishes me. When he looks into my eyes, he sees everything. He knows if I'm angry, or sad, or hurt. He knows if I'm worried, or fearful, or happy. When he looks into my eyes, he sees all of me.
It's not possible for us to have drawn this close over the years, through my submitting to him and his leadership and protection over me, having shared so very many ups and downs, and talked, and talked and talked things through, to hide anything from him. It's not that I really want to, but sometimes I find the complete and utter transparency very difficult.
“I'm here to help you, little one,” he said. “But because I'm here to help you, I will not allow you to disobey me. What are your rules?”
I always melt a little when he says “little one,” and it seems like an instant reminder of my place as his submissive. Unlike “baby” or “honey,” he never called me “little one” until we began this crazy journey.
So I repeated my rules to him quietly, marveling at his gentle sternness. It's that perfect mixture of sweet and stern that I love so much. In some ways, I think the gentle side encourages me to obey every bit as much as the stern side does. He nodded, going over the basic structure he keeps in place. The overarching rule is do what he says at all times, but there are other rules he likes me to repeat.
After I went over my rules, he took my hand and stood me up, placing me over his lap. I was still sniffling a little, that impending oh no before a punishment spanking mixed with the emotional twist of having not done what I was supposed to. I much prefer pleasing him. I crossed my legs and closed my eyes tight.
He brought that rod down hard, while lecturing me the whole time, saying things like, “Today you will do as you're told,” and “you will not forget to do what I ask you,” and “your goals today are to help you stay on track,” and at the very end, “So help me, little girl, if you find yourself over my lap again today, I'll get the hairbrush and you'll know exactly how serious I am about this.”
I squirmed as he held me down and I sniffled, and promised him I would be a good girl. I think I may have groaned a little out loud at the mention of that vicious brush. The rod is no walk in the park. But boy do I hate that brush, and he knows it. (When he's not here I sometimes glare at it and send I hate you vibes in its direction, which doesn't do a thing, of course, but makes me feel a bit better in the moment.)
Then he was done. “I can't spank you hard today. I won't,” he said. I slid off his lap and onto my knees, (thinking to myself, funny, that seemed pretty hard!) but I didn't say that out loud because the reality is, he could've been a whole lot harder on me than he had been. I threw my arms around him and cried a bit, and it was relief that I felt then. I needed to be put back in my place.
“You don't like it when I'm stern with you, do you, baby?” he asked, and I answered him honestly.
“Actually, I very much do like it when you're stern with me,” I confessed. (I do – it's hot, and makes me feel a bit squirmy, yes, but very safe and happy). This made him laugh again, his blue eyes twinkling at me. I explained a bit more. “I just don't like when I let you down.”
“Baby, so much of the time, you please me so much. You're a good girl, and it's rare I need to punish you. Just occasionally I need to get you back on track again. I know you'll be my good girl today.”
Stern but sweet.
But he decided at that point it was time to put me in my place just a bit more. The next thing I knew, his hands were fisted in my hair, and I was moving on to another very submissive scenario, and he was quite pleased. He says that having my ass spanked and then getting on my knees is the very best way to remind me of my place. And it's true. One thing led to another, and let's just say Jason was late to work.
And as he left, he said, “I'm late for work. But it was worth it.”