Hello, faithful blog readers! I know it’s been a while, and my posting has been inconsistent. Well, this past week I told Jason that something is missing when I don’t blog. Processing through our dynamic here helps fuel my submission in a way literally nothing else does. I am busy, pursuing my career, parenting these crazy kids of mine. Two teens now. It’s kind of crazy. And I considered giving up blogging. But after some soul-searching and talking with Jason, we decided that no, I really need to still do this.
So he’s holding me accountable. Well, because that’s just how we do things here. He made it a rule that I blog on Sunday, and if I don’t, I’ll answer to him.
I asked him to. I know it’s better for me—for us. So, rest assured I’ll be returning to Sunday blogging unless I have a very, very good excuse. Ha!
I got in trouble this week. Really, thinking back on it, I needed him to put me back in my place. I say that sometimes, and I know it sounds terribly old-fashioned or even wrong. He says it himself. “Remember your place.” But I never explained what that means. It doesn’t mean I’m below him or even subservient. Years ago, he told me, “Your place is by my side.” But it also means I keep my tongue, I defer to him, and I show respect. Why? Well, because we agreed he’s our leader.
My mother-in-law laughed when I admitted I was stubborn this week. “Wow, you two must really get into it sometimes,” she said, knowing full well how stubborn my husband is.
I just smiled. “Oh, we’ve learned how to communicate,” I told her. I didn’t tell her that that communication sometimes involves me belly-down over his knee. But she doesn’t need to know that.
So this week, after returning from traveling, I dove head-first into what I needed to do. Work. Home. Soaking up my sweet children. Re-connecting with my man. And it was beautiful and perfect, and I loved it. But it’d been a while since I’d been spanked, and Jason said I needed to be eased back into it.
In retrospect? I think what I really needed was for him to whip my ass good and hard. I’m just way too headstrong and independent. And yes, I’m asking him to read this blog post when I’m done. I’m not criticizing him, because I love and trust him. This is me processing what I need to process, and why I need to blog regularly.
So when things are off, it’s often a good, thorough session over his knee that I really crave.
I was exhausted and had much on my mind. I did laundry and dishes. I worked. I answered emails. I brought my kids to their lessons and extra-curriculars, cooked dinner and cleaned. Read stories and snuggled and spent time with my man. But I wasn’t quite myself. My routines were a little off, and I’m very much a creature of habit who thrives with structure and routine.
So finally, things came to a head one night. I got angry at Jason. I said something to him, I didn’t like his response, so I lost my mind and swore at him. I stormed away, knowing I really really had crossed the line. He didn’t say anything though, and I felt terrible. I needed him to tell me to stop. To remind me to obey. But our teens were right there, and even though he mostly doesn’t care about asserting his authority in front of others, with teens it’s a tricky thing.
I felt terrible inside. So when we were alone, I apologized. Jason doesn’t feel good and was exhausted himself, so I fully accepted that he might not give me the spanking I so richly deserved. I came upstairs and said, “I was rude to you, daddy. And I’m sorry.”
He nodded and gave me “the look.”
“You were,” he said. “And you’ll answer for that. I couldn’t do much in the moment, but you will be spanked. What’s our rule?”
I whispered the rule I broke. “Be respectful to daddy.”
He nodded. “Go get ready for bed.” I did. He was so tired. I was so tired. But he knows I do better when he puts me back to where I should be, and then we both sleep it off. So even though he was totally exhausted, he got out our hairbrush and ordered me over his lap. I shook a little. I haven’t been spanked much lately, and that thing hurts.
He lectured good and hard while he spanked good and hard. Reminded me I was his. That we have rules for a reason. That even if I’m upset I’m never allowed to speak disrespectfully to him, and that he won’t tolerate disrespect.
It was a brief, but good and hard spanking. Then he said, “now give daddy a kiss and go to sleep.” I cried a little, kissed him, put my head on his chest for a hug, and he kissed my forehead. He put the brush away and tucked me in. I still had really big feelings in my chest, and I don’t quite know how to describe them. I think It was really mostly very overwhelming to me. I don’t even remember the last time I was punished. It might have been weeks or months ago, and I think it was fairly brief. Punishment is so very different from any other spanking he gives me.
I slept like a baby by his side.
The next day, I felt a little subdued and thankful. Submissive. He can “put me in my place” better than I can myself. There’s something missing until he does.
And this is why this works for us. It doesn’t work for everyone. It’s been six years next month since Jason and I started our dynamic, and as the years go by, I see how very differently people live their dynamics. For us, though, I need to be put in my place, and I’m oh so happy when I’m there.