Monday, December 17, 2018

What Only a Dom Can Give

It’s been days and days since I’ve connected with Jason in a way that’s meaningful and important to us. 

A proper check-in that isn’t rushed. Where I kneel and go over my rules in a way that’s contemplative, not rote. Kneeling before him and accepting my place as his submissive, allowing myself to embrace his dominant side. Going over his lap in surrender, my worries and fears and anxiety seeping away as my belly hits his knee. Allowing my mind to empty when I embrace his authority and guidance. Centering spanking that hurts but heals, that beautiful contradiction. Giving myself over to who I fully am, that I don’t really, truly understand, but accept nonetheless. The swish and thud of his implement or sting of his palm, the ultimate act of dominance and submission. A heart that’s light and untroubled. My body, scarred with child-bearing and decades on this earth, marked with love. Cherished and adored by the one man I kneel to.



It's been days and days since we’ve connected with intimate, self-giving love-making. 

And yet my heart is full. This year, I’ve felt blessed beyond measure with a houseful of children who bring me their hopes and fears and joys, and a husband who receives my own hopes and fears and joys with kindness and tenderness. I feel I’ve grown as his submissive, simply with lived experience. Failures and successes, shared sadness and loss, wonder at what we’ve accomplished and what we plan to do next. Memories made. Plans for the future. 

I’ve probably been punished fewer than a dozen times over this year. But I don’t really need much correction these days. After years and years of being Jason’s full-time submissive, and years and years of both of us actively engaged in our roles, my need to please him overshadows everything I do, and his attendance to my needs is as natural to him as breathing. 

Adapting to the changes life brings, with open and selfless communication, and meeting each other’s needs above our own, is what nourishes our dynamic. 

But I still need the intimate, erotic, personal connection I can only get from my Dom. 

So when the stresses of the day pile on me, and I look at the never-ending to-do list, I long for that connection. The intimacy. The surrender. 


I know if I neglect to tell him I’m in a place of needing him, my need will grow, and self-doubt creeps in. 

Why haven’t you made time for me? 

Doesn’t our relationship mean anything to you? 

Do you even want to be my Dom anymore? 

Don’t you love me? 

Logic tells me my fears are silly. He’s a busy man with a full-time job and the father to many. His love is as constant as the sun in the sky, and yet, I need to know. I need to feel. So when too much time passes without the connection I need, emotion trumps logic, and my silly fears surface. 

So I take myself to him. He’s sitting in the bed, reading, and I stand in the doorway. He raises his eyes to me. 

“May I please just explain something to you? Please listen without interrupting me?” This is a constant thing between us… he is so insistent on solving whatever issue I bring him, that he often cuts me off and tries to solve things for me before I’ve fully explained what I need to say. So I’ve taken to asking him to please listen to me fully. It doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t see it as rude or defiant. It’s just how I have to communicate sometimes. 

He nods. So I tell him what’s on my mind, a quick summary of what I need to do, and end with, “Without sex and a proper check-in, I’m starting to feel neglected.” 

“I understand.” He does. I know he does. And he does not want me to doubt him, so he will prioritize what I need, as best he can. We talk about my work commitments and his, what our morning looks like, and he makes his decision. 

“Come to me at nine o’clock. Stripped, kneeling, and ready for me.” 

I nod, and he gets a little stern. “Don’t be late.” 

I won’t. There have been enough times I’ve gotten busy doing what I had to and lost track of the time. Obedience matters to him. It matters to me. So if I don’t go when he says to, he’ll punish me. 

I have an hour before he wants me, to finish my post, prepare my to-do list, finish my morning work, then prepare myself for him. But my heart is already at ease. 

He knows what I need, and he’s going to make my heart right again.  




Monday, December 3, 2018

When tragedy strikes

Last week was a very hard week. 

At first I was going to ask Jason if I could take this week off from blogging, because I’ve needed to withdraw and regroup. But after further reflection, I realize I need to write about this, and I know this post will be a bit of a diversion from my usual posts. 

Last week was the final week of our kitchen renovation. So I had no sink or fridge access or stove while feeding a large family. It worked out (and our kitchen is now done!) but it was stressful. Then my kids got sick…every single one of them. These things come up, though, and you handle them. That’s what we do. But then I got news that devastated me.

Friends of ours lost their child in a tragic car accident. He was a senior in high school. A teen-ager. Just like my babies. My heart ached for my friends. 

I did what any good friend would do… reached out in support and prayer, ready to help with whatever they needed. I took some time off from my work and didn’t go online much. I needed to regroup. Grieve. I was quiet throughout the week, processing. Praying. Jason and I kept up with the normal flow of things. 

Friday night was the wake. There were so many people in attendance, the line to get into the funeral home wrapped all around outside, and the three hours it took us to get in felt like a sort of pilgrimage. My heart broke for the children who showed up in droves. They reminded me so much of my own babies, mourning the loss of a friend, comforting each other. And when I got to our friends, all I could do was say, “I’m so, so sorry. I love you,” and hold on as we wept together. 

Some of you, those who’ve read my blog for some time, may remember I lost my own father in a tragic car accident. I always grieve his loss at the holidays, and I felt that loss so keenly over the past week. 

Jason was home with our children, as he didn’t really know the people who lost their son the way I did and I went with my closest friends from my church. When I came home, he was ready for me. 

He asked how I held up. He asked how it went. He asked if I needed daddy time, or stress relief, or for him to hold me for a little while. I didn’t really understand it at the time, but I told him no. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want stress relief. I didn’t want to be held, or even touched. It confused me a little, but it was a very clear need of mine that I needed to retreat even from him. Jason gets me. We communicate openly and honestly and with such regularity, that although it surprised him a little, he respected that. He said, “Okay. I’m here when you need me.”

The next morning was the funeral. The funeral was far harder than even the wake had been. 

I arrived early and sat with my friends. The church grew so packed there was standing room only. The sheer amount of people who showed up to mourn the loss of this boy, to celebrate his life, and to pray for his family, was overwhelming. I wept for the children that came to mourn their friend, for my friends who now face the holidays without their youngest son, and for the certain knowledge that this life is temporary. That one day I will face more loss, for none of us escapes death or tragedy. Seeing a child pass away is such a vivid, painful reminder of our mortality. 

It was a beautiful, heartbreaking ceremony. 

I came home, and Jason asked again if I needed him. I told him no, not yet. I told him I couldn’t talk about it...that I needed to, but I wasn't ready. Again, he was confused but respectful of my need for space. Honestly, even I was confused. 

My kitchen was done, so I put it together, then I threw myself headlong into a thorough purge of my house. I wasn’t really sure why I needed to, but it was incredibly therapeutic. I’ve read that decluttering our lives with things we no longer need or love helps us make peace with the past. For me, it helped me not only make peace with my past but bring clarity to the present. Jason, once again, seemed to intuitively understand this. He brought the donations to the car for me, and even drove to the thrift store and carried it all in with me. He praised me for bringing order and beauty to our home, and that meant a lot to me because I bask in his praise like sunshine. Throughout the weekend, he kept telling me he loved me and thanking me for everything I did. 

A few times yesterday he asked if I needed my daddy. Instead of retreating, I began to open up a little. I said, “Yes, daddy,” and he hugged and held me. 

Then yesterday, I finally talked to him. I told him everything, about the wake and funeral, what I felt and thought, what happened and how it impacted me. We talked about so many things. Our faith. Our children. Our relationship. Our past. Our future. We talked for hours, and in the end all I could do was give thanks for the gift of my husband.

I began craving the connection of submitting to him. Of his dominance. He made me kneel, but there was no spanking involved. Instead of putting me over his knee, he let me rest my head on his lap and tell him what was on my heart. 

I didn’t realize until this morning why I needed to retreat. Why I needed to turn inward. At the end of the day, though he’s my Dom, the person I love more than life itself, though I adore everything about that man, Jason is a human being. Mortal, like all of us. And there will come a day when one of us has to say good-bye to the other. I was afraid at first I was internalizing my grief, burying it in a way that’s unhealthy. I wasn’t, though. Instead, I was turning to my faith. I don’t often speak much of my faith on this blog, because my readership is wide, and I accept that we all have different walks of life. I am a woman of faith, though, and during this past week, I needed the strength beyond what even my husband could give. 

This morning I woke up early. I turned to Jason and said, “I need a check-in this morning. Can we check in later?” He squeezed my hand and said, “Yes. Of course. Always.” 

Even though it may not seem like we were living our D/s life through all of this, we were. So much. The beauty of all this is the mutual give and take. Self-giving love. He was prepared to give me comfort and guidance. We’ve practiced honest communication so long that I was able to tell him what I needed and when, and he was able to respect that. 
Source: Picassa

There is no such thing as perfection. but every day there is something to give thanks for. Today, I give thanks for Jason, for loving me and guiding me and caring for me. For being my Dom. And I give thanks to you, my readers, for listening. Reading. Reaching out to me among your own struggles and pain and letting me know that I’m not alone.


Monday, November 26, 2018

Holidays, Routines, and Keeping it all together

As the holidays approach, I find myself busier and busier. Pulled in so many directions, my routines thrown off, the demands of travel and family take their toll. Every single year I try to prepare myself a little earlier, to simplify gifts and streamline the necessity of running into stores, so we have more time to enjoy the traditions and comforts of the season. But no matter how much preparation I make, I still do find myself stressed at one point or another. Maybe we have unexpected guests. Maybe an illness hits my family and we have to adjust. Maybe someone at Jason’s work gets sick, and he has to take on additional hours. The one constant predictable in this busy life is that things are unpredictable. 

One of the biggest struggles of any Dom/sub couple is achieving consistency in the dynamic. There are oh so many reasons for this. 

For one, our dynamics are not commonplace enough that we can often share with our friends or family, so the necessity to keep things secret sometimes means that we do what I sometimes do with “very important things” I find and “put in a special place so I don’t lose it.” Out of sight, out of mind. Often, women are the ones who ask for this dynamic, and we women are trained from a very early age to put the needs of others before our own. So when the holidays approach and our families need us, we have a tendency to neglect our own self-care (and this includes our submissive needs). 

But when our dynamics are in full swing, when we’re in our respective roles with expectations and accountability, when our needs are met, we often thrive. We are often better able to meet the needs of others when our own needs are met first. 

So while others are advising about Christmas budgets and planning meals and deal hunting and goal setting for the new year, here in my little corner of blogland, I’m going to give you my perspective on how to keep the joy in your dynamic over the holidays. 

Establish routines 

Submissives crave structure. Routines and rituals help form the framework. I wrote more about that HERE

What are the routines that might work for your family? Here, in our house, I get up before Jason every day. Our routine has shifted over the years, and now he gets up a few hours after I do to help the kids with their morning routines, as early morning is my prime writing time. I work in the morning, then when I’m done I head up to check-in with him before the rest of my day begins. Here, before I work I write my daily to-do list and sketch out my agenda for the day. This daily list has my family tasks, work tasks, and self-care list, and a timeline for how I’ll plan my day. I bring this to him to look over so he knows where I’ll be and what my goals are today. We go over it and sometimes he adjusts things. (Interested in what I use to plan my day? I've been using various versions of the Happy Planner for a while, but also have started using the 90x goal system).   


I kneel. It helps me get in the right headspace. After we go over my list for the day, he puts me over his knee and asks me my rules, then he spanks me. It’s just a centering maintenance session, and helps me stay submissive and focused. This is what we do most days, though it’s not uncommon to miss a day here or there. Sundays, we don’t often do this until the afternoon. Sometimes when he’s home from work we go over our days. Sometimes I have an evening check-in as well, sometimes I have “daddy time” before bed when I tell him everything on my mind, but the most consistent routine of all is the morning check-in. He puts on my bracelet with my “daddy’s girl” charm, and I go about my day. 

This is what works for us after years of trialing different routines. 

Do you have a routine? A weekly check-in night? Is your current routine working for you, or does it need to be adapted? Our lives are ever-changing, so it’s important to adapt our routines from time to time. Is it time to establish one? Some couples use apps, some email or texts, some journal. Whatever it is that appeals to you, make this a priority. Dominants, this very well may be the greatest gift you give your submissive. Submissives, don’t neglect your self-care to the point of not asking for what you need. If having a routine appeals to you, bring it up respectfully and ask that you begin one. 



Open up Lines of Communication 

I’m going to be writing a bit more about communication soon, but for now I’d like to suggest we find ways to communicate more clearly. During the holiday season, when people are busier, when we indulge a bit more than we normally do and sometimes our self-control slips, when privacy is at a premium with travel and guests, it’s essential we find ways to communicate with one another. 

Do we find time to talk to our dominant or submissive? Do we have hopes or fears that we’ve hidden and not discussed? Are we craving that Dom/sub connection but we’re afraid to ask? Submissives, the actual work of submitting is incredibly difficult work. If we can’t even bring ourselves to ask for our needs, I’m not sure we can ever bring ourselves to do that hard work of submitting. Asking for our needs to be met sets us up for disappointment. We don’t want to be rejected or hurt, or brought to a place of vulnerability and left there. But if we want to grow, it’s essential we communicate. 

Communication doesn’t just mean we ask for what we want, though. It also means we tell our dominants when they make us happy. We praise them for the hard work they do. We ask for help if we need it. Essentially, we take stock of what’s on our hearts and don’t hide it. 

Consider a gift


With the holidays approaching, is there a gift you might consider that might help your dynamic? My two favorite things Jason gave me are my collar and my charm bracelet. The collar is a locking one I can’t take off, and he bought it HERE. This store has grown over the years and it's a lot pricier now than when he bought mine, but they're top quality. l've worn mine for years (four or five?) and never removed it. It’s subtle but sturdy, and I love it. Collaring can be very serious, though, and some aren’t quite ready to go there. It took Jason some time before he was comfortable enough with the idea. So before then, he bought me a charm bracelet and purchased a “Daddy’s little girl” charm as well as a few others. He puts it on me in the morning when we go over my rules, and takes it off at night when I go to bed. 

Is there a gift you really want? Spend some time thinking about it and add it to your wishlist. Just a friendly reminder that Obsession Jewelry has some beautiful, affordable gifts you might consider. My post about them is HERE


 

Give thanks

I’m convinced that one of the simplest ways to be joyful is to give thanks for the gifts we already have. Have you made progress in your dynamic this year? Things may not be where you want them to be, but can we still give thanks? Sometimes in our struggles we fail to see our growth, and we fail to see how challenges have blessed us. Have you learned to communicate better? Learned to be more patient? Overcome a bad habit, learned how to deal with a challenge you faced? What are you grateful for? Take time to think on this. 


Enjoy the journey

Remember that we don’t really hit a point where we “arrive” in all of this. The joy is in the journey. The intimacy and connection. The peace we establish, the love we grow. As this year draws to a close and a new one is on the horizon, let’s remember to take time even amidst the chaos and stress to enjoy where we are and who we’re with.



Monday, November 19, 2018

"Tell Daddy All the Things"




The past week has been super stressful here. We were kinda going on at an even keel, and I knew things were going to begin to get stressful because we’re doing some major construction in our house. Namely, my kitchen is being remodeled. They’re moving fast, and I can’t wait to get into my new kitchen. But… it’s stressful. 

The house is so cluttered and impossible to keep tidy at the moment. The task of feeding a large family with crockpots and a toaster oven and no kitchen sink is a little daunting. So, even though things are really going well overall, I’ve had to put a lot of energy toward managing this situation. 

Friday night, I had to confess to Jason that I’d broken two rules. I told him the first and he nodded and said “stand up and turn around,” like he was going to give me a quick spank to remind me to behave. Sheepishly, I told him there were actually two rules I’d broken. He wasn’t angry, and they weren’t major infractions. 

But I wanted mercy so badly this time. 

“I don’t want a spanking,” I told him and to be honest, I pouted a little. “I didn’t mean to. I know it was wrong but I’m stressed and I just lapsed.” 

He nodded. He sat at his desk and folded his hands on his lap, thinking. “I understand. But you need a spanking for this.” I was so tired from the challenges of this week I leaned over and put my head on his shoulder, because the thought of punishment was awful. He gave me a hug and said, “you doso much better when I don’t let you get away with these little things. You need me to hold you to this. I know you don’t want it, but it’s better for you if I punish you for this.” 

I appreciated his honesty and I always appreciate his consistency, even if in the moment I’m not too jazzed about an actual spanking.

So the day went on and we did what we had to. But by the time night rolled around, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Jason was reading in bed, and he just gave me the one eyebrow-raise look and said, “Tonight, or tomorrow morning. I’ll leave it up to you.” 

I was so tired, I just mumbled, “can you tell me if it will be very bad?” What can I say. I’m sort of a wimp. If it’s an intense spanking, I can’t really go about my day very well. And we both always prefer to get a real punishment over before bed. 

“No,” he said. “But a very good reminder is in order.” 

I rolled over and fell promptly to sleep. 

I wake up a lot earlier than Jason does, so the next morning, I woke up, and of course the first thing I thought was, “I’m going to get punished today.” I tried to focus on everything I needed to do but the more I thought, the more my fears compounded. 

We had unexpected guests on their way. I think our fridge accidentally came unplugged during the remodel, because a whole bunch of food went bad, and I had to throw everything out. So, we were out of food. I had gym plans and work to do and laundry and things for the kids, and… my mind just spiraled and spiraled. 

I kept looking at the clock and fearing our guests would arrive sooner than later, and Jason wouldn’t be able to deal with me. But it was way earlier than he normally gets up, and literally his only day of the week to sleep in. So I sat on the couch and thought and thought. 

What would he want me to do? 


I talked it over with my friend Maisy and she confirmed my gut instinct: “Go see him.” 

So I made him a cup of coffee, and I headed on upstairs. I crawled under the blankets and snuggled up. He was groggy when he asked, “What time is it?” 

I told him and climbed up onto his chest. He held me and with his eyes still closed, said, “It’s a little earlier than I expected.” 

“Daddy, I know,” I said. And then I began what Jason calls Tell Daddy All the Things. 

(I love this image) 



I went on and on and on about everything on my mind. He slowly woke up drinking his coffee and listened. But eventually, I started getting a little worked up and my voice rose in pitch. I was really spiraling out. 

He said one word. Just one. 


“Stop.” 

I’ve been trained to obey him. 

So I did. 

I stopped worrying. I stopped thinking about it. I stopped talking about the things bothering me. I just laid there with him, being held by him, enjoying the quiet after his command. 


Stop. 
He asked me a few things, and he told me how we were going to handle everything. I nodded and listened. 

“And,” he said, “there’s the matter of your spanking.” 

Right. That, too. 

Without a word, he leaned over and lifted my leg that was snuggled up against him and tipped me over. Without a word, he spanked me with his hand. It took my breath away and hurt a lot more than I expected. He spanked me again, and again, probably half a dozen times or so. 

“There,” he said. “Now watch your rules, and don’t do that again.” 

I curled up onto his chest and let everything go. My eyes kind of watered but I didn’t really cry. I just felt a peaceful sort of calm. 

A dom can silence the mind . Without a word, he spanked me with his hand. It took my breath away and hurt a lot more than I expected. He spanked me again, and again, probably half a dozen times or so. 

“There,” he said. “Now watch your rules, and don’t do that again.” 

I curled up onto his chest and let everything go. My eyes kind of watered but I didn’t really cry. I just felt a peaceful sort of calm. 

A dom can silence the mind of his submissive with the power of his words. His command. He can take the tangled mess of insanity that swirls in her head and silence her fears. He can discipline with love or decide to be merciful, but meeting the needs of his submissive is a gift he gives to her because discipline is given in love. 

Last night I came to him before bed and did it again, “telling daddy all the things.” 

“I like when you do this,” he said. “When you’re all melty and soft.” 

Submissive. 

Submission is a choice, but he’s the one that makes that choice an easier one. 

Monday, November 12, 2018

It's not always sunshine and flowers.

Getting into fights or arguments when you’re in any relationship sucks. Getting into fights or arguments when you’re in a Dom/sub relationship is damn near devastating. 

Why? 

When a power exchange relationship is in full swing, there is a blessed, beautiful harmony. And yes, there is harmony in any good relationship, and in no way am I implying that Dom/sub relationships are better. But they are different. In a Dom/sub dynamic, each partner relies on the other for that bit of harmony. Before Jason and I lived this dynamic fully, when we had a disagreement, we’d eventually solve things. We would forgive one another and make up. But when we have a disagreement as Dominant and submissive, there’s added stress to our discord, and an added step in our forgiveness, to help bring us back to our roles. 

The added stress is that we rely on each other more than we did before. He’s my daddy, and I’m his babygirl. And who’s the one who takes care of me when I’m hurt? Who’s the one who helps to bring peace to my mind and settle my heart? Who’s the one who holds me when I’m sad, and wipes away my tears? Jason, of course. So when he’s the cause of the sadness and tears, I’m left bereft. It hurts deeply, and rocks me to my very core.

I’m a woman of faith, so I do pray my way through it. Sometimes it helps to be able to talk it out with a friend, and I’m blessed with good, loving friends who understand and will listen, support, uplift. Sometimes, I have to withdraw, though, because the pain is too pronounced. 

I cry when things aren’t right with Jason. Hell, I’m crying as I type this, because the feelings when this happen are so raw, so visceral. And I’m powerless to bring peace to our situation on my own, since Jason needs to be party to our solution. 

As a dominant? When he is angry, he withdraws. 


It is better that he does. A dominant must remain self-possessed, for the potential to do lasting damage to his submissive is so very dangerous. It’s unreasonable to expect a dominant to never get angry, and many people even say a dominant should never punish when angry. I don’t agree that’s always the solution. I believe a dominant should always be in control. Sometimes, Jason spanks me when he’s angry, and sometimes it’s the very thing we both need in that moment. He doesn’t hurt me, because he’s in control (though he might spank a bit harder, and as I said, sometimes that actually helps). It’s when he’s not in control that the potential to hurt me is a very real concern. 


So he withdraws. I know in my head he needs to. But oh how it hurts when he does. I want him to make things better, now. It doesn’t seem fair that he’s okay with telling me to go to bed before we’ve resolved anything and depriving me of the comfort and safe place I crave. He’s my daddy. And when he’s angry and withdrawn from me, I feel as if he’s deprived me of Jason my friend, Jason my lover, Jason my husband, and Jason my daddy. 

We had a fight last night. It was over something so silly and stupid. Aren’t most fights? It started harmless enough, and I think it would have ended pretty quickly if we’d handled things the way we normally do. To be honest, we’ve been borderline picking at each other for days now. I’m hormonal and grumpy. We’re undergoing major house renovations which are stressful. We’ve planned and things are manageable, but the stress is undeniable. Both of us are flat out at work, flat out at home, and our check-ins have been far too infrequent and incomplete. 

That’s a pretty big deal, right there. Usually, infrequent and incomplete check-ins with each other when one or both of us are stressed causes trouble. Why? Because we don’t get into our roles. We don’t communicate everything we need to. 

So we’ve been simmering beneath the surface. I’ve definitely been getting snippy at him, mostly because the truth is, I’ve felt super stressed and needed to be put in my place. It sounds maybe selfish. And it’s because it sounds so selfish that I’ve neglected telling him this. Asking for more. And because he’s stressed, he’s done things that help calm him—gaming and playing his guitar. And when he’s off doing his own thing for hours on end, I struggle with feelings of abandonment.

These are all not really big deals at the end of the day. Normally, if I get snippy with him, he just says my name sorta sternly, or gives my hand a little squeeze, or raises an eyebrow, and I get the point. If I’ve gotten snippy, during a check-in, he’ll usually remind me to behave. And then everything’s right again, because he’s happier when I’m submissive and he’s in charge and I’m happier when I’m submissive and he’s in charge. 

Normally when we haven’t had time for a proper check-in, we make that happen. We tried, but the teens were so in our space, and it felt incomplete and half-hearted. 

Normally when he’s stressed and needs to retreat for some down time, I support that. Everyone needs downtime, and he gives me the space to take mine. Most of the time, I don’t resent it, and he appreciates that I let him have that space without nagging him. 

Normally when I’m stressed, he helps relieve that stress with a good session. 

But this time, it was a perfect storm. He was stressed, so he retreated. I was stressed and needed him to help me. He wasn’t in the place to do that, so I felt angry and unsettled and that began to surface in my tone and actions. He was in no position to handle that, so things escalated. I needed him to haul me over his knee and make things better again. Instead, he got angry with me and pushed me away. 

And that hurts so much. In fact, even as I type this, I have to admit I’m still a little angry. 

But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. It isn’t all about me. 

We have a family. Neither of us is perfect. But the beauty in this dynamic is that we have the tools to make things right again. The beauty in this is that we aren’t aiming for a destination. We’re here for the ride. Yes, it hurts when things aren’t right between us, but it won’t always be that way. We have systems in place for dealing with this. We will use those tools we have at our disposal. But most importantly, we love each other. And when two people love each other, they can’t let stupid fights drive them apart.

We don’t usually argue for long. Neither of us likes holding onto our anger. Soon, and I truly hope sooner than later, we’ll make things right again. I’ve already apologized. He knows I’m sorry for my part in this. If I know Jason, he’ll be sorry for his part in this as well. If he’s in a good place, he’ll make things right again by putting us back in our roles, with a solid check-in that will most likely involve me over his lap and some babygirl attention. We’ll talk about how we can do better next time, so we don’t get to the point of discord like this. Fights hurt like mad, but we learn a little bit every time we wrestle through things and as painful as it is in the moment, we’re always just a little bit stronger on the other side. 



Edited to add: 

To those who were concerned with my most recent post: very shortly after I posted, we settled things. We talked it out. We apologized. He read my post. I got the spanking (that I really needed) and we put this behind us. Thank you for checking in on me. <3 


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Saturday, November 10, 2018

I'm here!

Hey, readers! Never fear, I didn't get spanked for not posting last weekend. Jason told me not to this week! But some of you were concerned, so I wanted to post a quick note. We just had so much going on he told me to take the week off. But boy did I miss it and I'm so looking forward to writing next week! 

<3 Jason's Girl 

Monday, October 29, 2018

And then he spanked me.

Last week, I posted about how badly I was craving a spanking. Jason was home on Monday, and he called to me from upstairs. I came to the foot of the stairs and he made a spanking motion with his hand. Code word for, “Are we going to check in?” I was busy with the kids and asked him, “Can you go read my blog post, please?”

He did. 

Later that day, he called me up. But I’d had a terribly stressful day, and some situations out of my control frustrated me to no end. I needed to talk to him and tell him what was on my mind. I was in a terrible headspace for a spanking, stressed and unfocused, but he insisted. I’d asked for his belt, and he was prepared to give it to me at a time when we actually had some privacy. He wanted me to take it anyway. So I leaned over the bed and took the spanking. 

But it didn’t help at all. I didn’t have the time to really talk to him, to really let go of what was bothering me, and I left the room surprised and a little perplexed, because the weight in my chest had grown instead of dissolving like a good spanking usually does for me. And I was sad that I’d gotten what I thought I needed but felt worse than I did before. 

He came down for dinner, and even though I had that delicious sting going on, I had a weight on my chest I couldn’t move. “I’m sorry,” I told him, because he’d really put in that effort and I didn’t want to neglect to thank him. “You gave me what I wanted, but I still feel terrilbe. I think I was just so worked up beforehand that it only made things worse.” 

I’ve used the analogy before of a dirty windshield. If you're driving a car with a dirty windshield, sometimes tossing a drop or splash of windshield wash on it smears things worse before they’re clean. You have to keep pushing, try again, use more solution and wipe those blades until your windshield is spotlessly clean and you can see again. Sometimes it’s not just a spanking we need. We need to follow whatever rituals get us into the proper headspace to begin with. We often need the full acknowledgement of what we’re doing and why, the follow through, and then the reconnection of a kiss, aftercare, or intimacy. 

Let’s be honest, though. We don’t live in Fantasyland. Things get in the ways. Deadlines, jobs, kids, phone calls, appointments, sleep. So often, we need to accept what we have and learn to cope without perfection. Cultivate a heart of thanksgiving. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep striving, though. I’m not advocating we demand what we want selfishly. It’s important to be grateful and at peace. However, it’s also important to delve deeply into what we’re aiming for. 

Recently, I listened to an excellent talk on defining our purpose. Why are we here? What are we doing? I ask a lot of probing questions on this blog, and I do it intentionally. Over the years people have told me, “Why ask why? If it works, do it.” Though I respect that and daresay it works for many, it doesn’t work for me. I believe we ask why, because when we understand what our ultimate goal is, our thoughts and actions have a greater purpose. I offer my own why on this blog not only to process my purpose, but to help those who have a similar mindset to understand their own. 

Why did the spanking I craved, asked for, and received, not satisfy me in the way I hoped? It was too rushed. I had too much on my heart and mind, so when I submitted to Jason, it was only physically. Mentally, I hadn’t really accepted this and for me, the psychology of submission is so much more deeply woven into who I am. So when he spanked me, he smeared that windshield, and I was left feeling worse than I did before he spanked me, and I hadn’t even been punished (which is much harder for me). 

We’ve been doing this long enough, that Jason understands all this, though. I got some time alone with him, and I shared this with him. “I feel terrible,” I said. “You gave me exactly what I wanted, but I feel worse than I did before. I’m sorry.” 

Thankfully, he gets me. Thankfully, he loves spanking me, so it's not a hardship to do it again. So he hugged me and said, “It’s okay. We’ll do it again. I’ll give you what you need, and we’ll keep at it until we get you where you need to be.” I was so grateful he wasn’t angry or frustrated, but patient. And I made up my mind I’d be patient myself. 

And the very next day, we had another opportunity for privacy again. This time, he took his time. He called me to him and had me kneel and held my chin between his thumb and finger so I could keep my eyes on him. He asked me to tell him what was on my mind, and I did. I cried a little. And when I’d poured out everything I needed to say, he went over my rules and reminded me of what he expected from me. 


He told me to go over his lap and took his time with a long, slow spanking. It hurt, but I needed it, and when I was done, he admired his handiwork and sent me on my way. This time, I felt calm and relaxed after he spanked me. This time, my heart was at rest and I felt the calm I crave from submitting to him. I don’t always. But I was so, so grateful he understood my needs weren’t really met the first time, and persisted until he did. 

Sometimes, that’s how it works. It isn’t always what we plan, but if we communicate effectively and honestly, we can keep on pushing on.

Blogging about how badly I needed him was the first step for me. The second was asking him to read that, so he knew what my needs were. But even then, we had to keep pushing. He didn’t take it personally, or feel frustrated. I was honest with my needs and what I craved. And today, several days later, the kids were all out of the house and he called me up to him again. 

“Strip,” he said, unbuckling his belt. I was nervous but eager, because I just can’t get enough. I asked him to warm me up first, because man does that belt hurt without a warm up, and he was happy to. A warm up for us just means a lighter spanking so I can take harder and longer, and harder and longer is what I crave when I’m dying for a good spanking with impact that hurts and lingers. He sorta just flicked the belt all over until I was good and ready, then spanked me with the tail end harder, until he worked his way up to doubling it over and giving me a good, hard spanking. 


This time, I felt that peace and satisfaction that comes from being spanked by him. There’s something about trusting him to take me there that satisfies me in a way nothing else does. I let him hurt me, but in a good way, in a way that helps me let go of what troubles me and live in this moment, and that moment is being at peace with the man that I trust. It makes me feel strong and capable to bear the marks of his belt and to know I took a spanking, and even now, as I can still feel the sting and burn, it makes me smile a little. He gets my unconventional cravings and takes me there, beyond what’s comfortable and normal, into the deeper part of what I need. And in so doing, he makes me feel loved. 

There’s a freedom in the surrender. There’s pleasure in the pain. And at the heart of it all, there’s love. 

I love being his. 


Monday, October 22, 2018

Make it hurt, please.

I am craving a spanking. 

A good, hard, take-my-breath-away-and-make-me-hurt spanking. 



And you know, I have to admit, it isn’t that I haven’t gotten any. I have. Jason has been as regular as clockwork with my maintenance. I haven’t broken rules. I’ve obeyed him and submitted. We’ve actually had a really fantastic week or so together. We went on a date, and talked about plans, and took the kids out, and spent loads of time connecting on all the levels lovers should. 

But my need for his dominance is so, so strong. Often, I’m totally satisfied because he never really takes his dom hat off. He expects me to obey, and I do. Yesterday he called while I was out and asked me to do something I didn’t want to (I thought it unnecessary) so I explained my position, and when I explained he just said calmly, firmly, “I wasn’t asking.” And I accepted that. 

He demands I keep eye contact when he’s talking to me, that I put my phone down and give him my undivided attention. I kneel, and he tugs my collar. We go over my rules and we have our rituals. He tucks me in and when I need that firm hand, he often responds with a good hair pull and snuggle. Sounds crazy. It really works, though. 


But sometimes…I want to hurt. 



Part of it is that I allow myself to get into the Dom/sub headspace all the time. I write the books. I blog. I read the books. And to me, it’s such a part of my psyche I can’t separate it from anything else. I'm not sad or grieving. Sometimes I need to feel the hurt because I am hurt. That isn't me today though.

I’ve been mildly stressed lately. It isn’t terrible stuff. Things are fantastic, actually. But we have both major house renovations and overnight guests coming in the next two weeks, and those things are always a challenge. I’m prepared. It’s just on my mind. 

I always have so many things on my mind. It’s just what so many of us do. 

So once in a while I crave that loss of control. I don’t just want a spanking. I want him to dominate me. I want him to put me over his lap and take his belt to me until my body is striped with his leather and it hurts to sit for days. He knows how to do it. How to make it sting and burn without being too hard on me, or, arguably worse, too easy. 


It doesn’t happen often, though, because we have kids in this house, including perceptive teens, so we have to be discreet. Maintenance involves quiet implements. The louder implements are the ones I crave sometimes. Usually his belt. Occasionally I crave the paddle, mostly when I am dying for that good, old-fashioned "put me in my place" spanking. But most of the time, it's his belt I want. 

When he gives me that good, hard spanking, it quiets my mind. It’s a physical reminder of his control, his dominance…his love. It reminds me that he’s a strong man, that he’s the one in charge, and even though I’m strong and capable myself, deep down inside I know I’m safe with him. That he will take care of me and protect me. That he won’t let my head spin out of control, my impulses take over, and he won’t let the things I sometimes say or do destroy this relationship we’ve worked so damn hard to build. 

When he spanks me good and hard it’s a mind/body experience. My body feels the lashes of his belt or the sting of his hand. My mind silences the little voices that sometimes plague me, my inner censor and self-doubt. My heart is at ease. 


After a good, hard spanking he always gives me attentive aftercare, holding me over his lap while he rubs out the sting. Sometimes there’s lotion, sometimes just him rubbing his hand along my skin. Then he holds me. Sometimes I need to cry, not because I’m sad, but because it’s a cathartic release of whatever I’m holding inside me. Sometimes I just sigh in contentment. 

Safe. 
Loved. 
Treasured. 

 I’ll never fully understand why I need that intensity. I unpack it as best I can, and will continue to. 

But for now, all I need to know is that I need it. And I present that need to him. 

He sometimes knows I need it before I do. “I know what you need,” he’ll say. “You need a really good session over daddy’s knee.” 

Mmm. Yes.

This time, I recognized it first, though. I think it surprised him because he definitely has been spanking me lately. It’s just nowhere near as long, as hard, or as intimately as I’m craving. 

It isn’t all about me, though. So I’ll let it go. I told him. He knows. And now I trust him.