Last week, I was so out of sorts. I felt irritable and grumpy, and couldn’t figure out why. I was snappy and angry, and just so, so out of sorts.
Jason listened as I complained about a few things bothering me, nodded his head, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I see,” he said, nodding and listening. “Hmmm. Right. Be right back.” And he sent the kids outside to play, came back, and shut the door.
“I don’t want to be spanked,” I said, since it was pretty clear to me where this was headed.
He merely gave me the raised-eyebrow and crooked a silent finger at me, and I knew there was no turning back. So I dragged my feet, walked on over to him, and he pointed to the floor. I knelt.
“You’ve been very out of sorts lately,” he said, and I nodded.
It’s been an emotionally trying few weeks.
“You need to be spanked.” I squirmed a bit, but at this point he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He unbuckled his belt, fisted the buckle, and put me over his knee.
I did not want to be spanked. I’d already been spanked a good deal that week. And even though I’d been irritable I didn’t really break any rules. And it’s hard to take a spanking when I wasn’t being punished.
He didn’t lecture. He merely held me in place and spanked me, hard. I pushed and fought and kicked my legs, because it hurt like hell, and he ordered me to stop squirming, so I did my very best, but it wasn’t a very good job.
On and on he went. It wasn’t severe but it hurt, and he was unrelenting.
And then something happened. Something inside me loosened, and I began to cry.
I sniffled into the bed and swiped at my eyes, but it all just came out, and that’s when he talked.
“Good girl. Let it out.”
I didn’t even know I needed to.
I’d been holding out on a good cry for a while, shoving down my emotions, so very many things that affected my emotions, my peace. And because I had so many things to do, I hadn’t really let myself tap into that well of emotions.
I’d tried to. Things were much better with Jason after our hard talk and difficult transition recently. He was hard on me, and I needed that, but I didn’t know how badly I needed the emotional release.
When we first started this, I needed stress relief on a regular basis. But as the years went on, my need for sexy spanking and stress relief wore off. Our rules became tighter. His expectations for me rose, as did my needs. He spanked me hard, and he spanked me regularly, but they were nearly all either discipline or something that reminded me of my place.
It’s been five years of consistent Dom/sub roles now, though, and things have shifted. Erotic spanking doesn’t cut it for me much anymore. Stress relief wasn’t needed since we checked in so regularly. And punishment became rarer.
Jason reminded me this week that the fall is a hard time for us. His work schedule is intense. For me, because of the shift in schedules and demands on our family’s time, I have to stay focused and on top of things. With a large, bustling family, the needs of our kids are hugely important. And now that I manage my career, I’m constantly having to tap into my dominant side.
It isn’t easy. And I find the “switching” from a dominant role to a more submissive one is so very difficult. I don’t do it easily. I love, love, love when I’m in my place. When my mind is cleared and he’s in charge. When I’m his little girl, eager to please, my attitude soft and compliant. But now it is so, so much harder to get there, and my natural inclination is to fight it.
When he spanks me, I ask him to stop far sooner than I need him to. It hurts, and in the moment it’s hard to see that this is good for me, that I need this.
Fortunately, he sees that… and he knows I need to be brought beyond where I’m comfortable. Taken to a deeper place of submission.
He’s done that over, and over, and over this week. After being spanked to tears last weekend, I felt much lighter, freer even, but I had quite the emotional hangover. I was quiet and a bit introspective. We had a lovely day, but I needed some time to process what had happened.
Just last night, I was tired, and I wanted to go to bed. He sat on a chair across the room and said, “Come here, please.”
I did not want to.
I asked him if I had to, and his tone shifted, and the next thing I knew, I got the stern look. “Young lady, now.”
So I obeyed. And he told me what I know is the truth, but it was hard to hear. “You’re way too busy taking charge of things, and it’s time I reminded you of your place. Over my knee.”
Those words...they stop me in my tracks. I know there's nothing else to do but the one thing he gave me to do.
With a great deal of reluctance, I did, and did he ever spank me, a seriously thorough hand spanking followed by his belt. I can still feel it, the ache and burn of a really long, intense spanking.
I woke in my submissive place. I feel very quiet, and the words, “yes, daddy,” were easy to say. When I’m in my “take charge” mode, they are not. I know that today, (my planning day) I will prepare for the week ahead.
I have a deadline, a few commitments, work to do, and in a few days I’ll be traveling without Jason. I won’t want to be spanked, but at least now I’m reminded…once again…how much better off I am if I am. Happily Spanked. Submitted. And in my place.