Tuesday, April 17, 2018

The Hangry Sub


Jason and I recently celebrated our wedding anniversary. Now that our kids are older, we were able to actually go away and have a night to ourselves in a hotel, and we had a really amazing time. We went to dinner and watched a movie, had drinks and just reveled in each other. And on Friday night, he stripped me, put me over his lap and gave me a really, really sound spanking.


I fought it like mad. It hurt. So I whimpered and squirmed and asked him to stop. As my long-term Dom, he knows me really well, so he didn’t back off. “You need this,” he said, as he continued to spank me. “You’ve been saying you do. Relax. I’ll slow down. But I’m not going to stop until I know you’ve gotten what you need.” And he did. I breathed as he directed me, and after a little while, I was warmed up so I could take a lot more. He spanked me so long and hard I was deep, deep in a state of submission by the time we moved on to even better things, and I was a puddle of submissive goo when all was said and done.

You’d maybe think that would last me? But no. My needs to be dominated are high these days. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, as a working mom of many, I wear many hats. I have children who are still losing teeth and learning to read, while others are finding their way as high schoolers, thinking of college and community service hours and make-up. I manage my career and my home, and my day nearly always begins just around 5 a.m. I work hard to compartmentalize my duties, to organize my life so that it runs smoothly and my priorities (family first) stay in check.

With all this going on, I’ve come to accept a very real Catch-22 that’s tripping up our dynamic: the busier I am, the more I need his dominance, but the busier I am, the harder it is for me to stop and recognize this. So even though Friday night he dominated the hell out of me, by Sunday night, two days without a check-in, I was a mess. Now, part of this is due to the fact that I’m very, very rarely punished anymore. Honestly, real punishment happens maybe a few times a year. This is good, of course. I love Jason and yearn to please him. But a spanking without discipline just isn’t the same.



Because I’m not a masochist, the way I’m personally wired is to be attracted to the exchange of power. Masochists, bottoms, TiHs (taken-in-hands), and submissives aren’t the same animal, though we share similar traits. The submissive craves dominance, very real discipline, and the praise of his or her dominant partner. Submitting to a spanking helps us, and we need it. But when we behave, and we don’t experience the exchange of power within a disciplinary setting, we tend to be a little off.

Why? I truly believe it’s because submissives feel loved when disciplined. I’ve said before discipline is the part of this dynamic I like the least but need the most. How do Jason and I handle this? Mostly, with firm role affirmation. However, as very busy parents of a large family, we don’t do this as regularly as we used to, because we’re busier, and because our roles are so firmly established. I know he’s my dom, and I behave myself. Obeying him and submitting is such a part of my training that I do it mostly without conscious thought. Quite honestly, all he has to do is give me a certain look or clear his throat, and I usually submit easily.

The downside of this is that I don’t believe I’m as patient listening to other submissives as I used to be, so apologies to those who don’t find me very sympathetic these days. Please understand that I just find it difficult to imagine disobeying him, contradicting him, or choosing not to submit. I’m not saying I do this with perfection. I just have been taught to make submitting to Jason habitual.

As my needs and Jason’s fluctuate, it means we need to reevaluate how our dynamic plays out. And this weekend, things came to a head for me. I’d had a lovely time with Jason, but as I said, I hadn’t been disciplined in any way for quite some time. Saturday came and went with no check-in. Sunday did as well. We check in with each other regularly, so by Sunday night I was not in a good place, so much so, that like a silly girl, I spiraled out and just about forgot my head. Part of the reason is that I’d been told to come to Jason for a check-in, and when I came to him, he was busy and couldn’t attend to me. I waited and waited, and finally left and went about my duties, feeling fairly dismissed and unimportant to him. He didn’t mean this, and I could’ve handled it better, but I was a wreck by Sunday night.

We were laying in bed and I asked if I could talk to him. He said yes, and lifted up his arm for me to crawl under. I tried to tell him how I was feeling, and tried to ask for what I needed, but the next thing I knew, I was blubbering like a baby. “Don’t you love me? Do you still want to be my dom? Do you just do this for me, or does this even matter to you?”

Yikes. So yeah, the obedience thing? I’ve got that mostly down. It doesn’t mean I don’t spiral out sometimes, though.

Poor Jason. I mean, he’d just spoiled me rotten for our anniversary. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t spanked me in weeks or months. But I haven’t been disciplined, and there was no check-in, and I think being summoned to him and then put off again just sent me spiraling.

Hey, no one ever said this was easy.

Finally, he had enough, and he ordered me over his lap. I was upset at this point and didn’t want a spanking. I told him as much. “I’m not asking,” he said, then over I went, and he gave me one really sound spanking. I needed it, and I took it, but when he was done, he had something to say to me.

“Do you still want to be my babygirl?” he asked. “I mean, sometimes I question your commitment to being my babygirl. You say you want it, but I don’t always see that from you. Doesn’t this matter to you?”

Ouch. He was, of course, teaching me a lesson by flinging my words right back at me. I started to cry, and he spoke gently but firmly. “It doesn’t feel very nice when you’re on the receiving end of that line of question, does it?”

I shook my head. “No, daddy.”

He pulled me up to his chest and kissed me. “I didn’t want to have to teach you that lesson,” he said, as I continued to sniffle. “But you need to know how serious this is for me, and your words sting. I don’t want you questioning me like that anymore.” I heard him, loud and clear. It sounds like a very small thing, but the lesson he taught was much harder to take than the spanking had been.

I needed to put into words why I’d spiraled so badly. “Do you know how when you go so long without eating, and you don’t even feel hungry, how you get all hangry? Like a bear? And you need to eat right now?”


He nodded. “Well, that’s how it is with me and check-in’s. I feel totally fine not getting them in the moment, and I don’t even feel like I need them, but then I get hangry. Hangry for a spanking."

“Ah. So even though you fight it, you really need me to keel-haul you,” he said. Yikes. Leave it to Jason to say it like a man.

“Well I wouldn’t put it that way," I said, cringing and laughing at the same time.

“You need me to stop you and make this happen.”

“I think so?” I mean, who’s going to agree to that? But we were laughing at this point. And yesterday, even though I had work to do and he had work to do, he called me up and checked me in properly. It didn’t even take long. Just a few minutes. We’ve realized, though, that even though our dynamic has shifted and our needs have, too, the need for a daily check-in is maybe more important than ever.



Monday, April 9, 2018

A Dom That Loves Me

I think we're back. We've eased back into things as best we can, and it's been challenging as Jason was hesitant to really spank me. There are many things we can do in this to keep us in our roles, but there comes a time when I really just need a good, hard session. I don't need it anywhere often as I used to and I think that's partly because we're more solidly established in our roles. I know what's expected of me, and he meets my needs fairly intuitively. It's a sort of dance, really, and I follow his lead but he guides me, and when we both move together, it works. 

This weekend I was feeling the stress of many things. One of my children needed me, as he was struggling, and I poured myself into being the mother he needs. I had a great deal of work to do, and though I truly love my work, it's the type of work that requires mental focus and emotional energy, so it does drain me. And then the needs of my house beckoned, as always. Laundry and meals and sheets and a bit of a spring clean was in order. Between Friday and Saturday I could feel myself getting wound up tighter and tighter. 

Our hairbrush has been missing for a while. Ok, that's not true. It was in my van, because my youngest daughter grabbed it to brush her hair, and I conveniently thought tucking it under the console might be a good idea. Out of sight, out of mind, right? (Please recall I hate being spanked with my hairbrush with a passion. There's nothing sexy about it. It's pure evil). Jason said to me, "I haven't seen that hairbrush in a while. Where did it go?" 

I can't lie to him. "I know where it is," I said, cringing, which made him laugh. 

He chucked a finger under my chin. "Bring it up." He laughed outright when he saw what must've been a deer-in-the-headlights look, because he hugged me and said, "I just want to brush your hair with it. I won't spank you with it. Well, unless I need to."

That maybe was supposed to be reassuring. Ha! So I brought it up and I have to admit, knowing it's right there and he'll use it "if he needs to" has made me behave myself. Yesterday I got a little ornery and he did say to me, "Don't make me use that brush." Out came the halo. 

So Saturday he could feel me coiling like a spring, ready to snap under the pressure and intensity of my duties. He shut and locked the door, and got the eraser. Weirdest, wickedest implement, his stout little rubber paddle that hurts like hell. 

I knew I needed this. He knew I did. I still didn't want to. I knelt. He knew where my head and heart were, since his hands went to both sides of my face and he made me look at him that way...not as dominant a move as when he grasps my chin and I can't look away, but a more tender daddy move that makes me know I'm the center of his attention. 



"Let's get you back on track," he said. I like that he said let's. He'll help me, but I have to agree, so it's both of us getting me back on track. 

"I need a spanking," I said, and he didn't need me to tell him, but it was a sort of acknowledgment that a good, long, stress relief session was in order. He just smiled and said, "I know." 

Regular readers of this blog will likely know that I didn't just hop up on his lap and take my spanking.  I don't really roll that way. I had to squirm and fight it because spankings hurt, I'm a wimp, and Jason knows how to spank. But he didn't get upset or angry, he just held my hand on my lower back, told me to relax, warmed me up and then spanked me very slowly, very firmly, until my whole body slumped over his knee and I was calm, and even then he let me have a few really hard whacks for good measure. I know in my head that it's the combination of submitting to him, being the center of his focus, releasing my stress, and hormones, and a whole bunch of other things that make this work. 

But even though I know that, I never really will fully grasp why lying over my husband's lap for a sound spanking centers me. But it does. My backside ached from that spanking all day and into he next, but it was a reassurance of who we are, a reminder of why we do this. 

Yesterday I got a little emotional. I'm struggling with the changes in my life. I mourn the loss of the days when I was a stay-at-home mama to littles. It was hard and it was stressful, but it was a big part of my identity. Now I'm a working mom of teens and littles. "I should be happy," I told Jason. "And I am. But I miss those days and I don't think I was ready to see them go." I sniffed a bit, wiping at my eyes. "But the other day I was thinking I have a lot to be grateful for. Our marriage is strong and intact, we have really amazing kids, and I have a fulfilling career. Those are all beautiful things." 

He smiled and kissed my forehead. "And you have a Dom who loves you." 

Yes. A Dom that loves me. I'm at a different stage of my life right now, and I'm giving myself the space to ease into this with grace. But there's no place I'd rather be. 

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

It isn't what I want but what I need.


I got me a birthday spanking this week. The boss decided the acrylic rod would do the job quite well. That was not what I had in mind, thankyouverymuch, but he’s the one who calls these shots… and even though it pisses me off sometimes, it’s the only way I really want it.

I need him to take control. I need him to not put up with my attitude, and the attitude’s really been creeping up here lately. Years ago, Jason told me Dr. Ben Dover knew how to chase away the hormone fairies, and even though I fight it, I need this.

When I hurt my back, it was so hard not only to go without being spanked, but I missed going over his lap, the actual process of bending over and submitting.

My mind races constantly. Even when I sleep, my mind spins and spirals. I don’t even watch TV. I can’t, really. Weird, huh? I can’t stop my brain though. I can’t just sit and watch. Relaxation for me often involves listening to an audiobook while I play a game on my phone. I read a lot, but often when I’m doing something else (like walking on the treadmill). I’m just energetic and wired, I guess.

But when I lay over his lap, it stops. My mind quiets. The spiraling comes to a halt and the only thing that’s left is me and Jason. Oh, how I missed that. I’m getting all choked up just remembering how hard it was going without. He was so good to me, tender and sweet and attentive. I obeyed him and behaved myself. He even went over my rules to keep me grounded, but I missed the connection of going over his lap.

Supposedly, there’s a biological reason for the brain slowing down during a spanking. Something about not being able to process pain and thoughts at the same time. But it’s more than that, because it isn’t just when he’s actually spanking me that I can focus on him, but when he makes me assume the submissive position – kneeling, or lying over his lap (or something far hotter and I’ll spare you the details). 

I was getting pretty far off the reservation the past few days. I hadn’t broken any rules or gotten mouthy or anything, but I was definitely short-tempered and irritable. Finally, after dinner one night, Jason said, “You know, you really need a spanking.” I knew it. I nodded and got a few things done, but at the back of my mind I wondered if he was going to punish me. Had I gone that far? Still, I knew I needed to be reeled back in. Lucky me, it was right around the time of my birthday, so the next morning, he patted his lap, the wicked rod hidden by his side, and the next thing I knew, he was counting out my birthday smacks.

So not fair! I wanted a sexy hand spanking. But I don’t always get what I want and the truth is, I’m better off that way. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?

Right before I hurt my back, Jason said that my submission had slipped, and it was time for him to put me back in my place. I’d gotten myself into a totally dominant headspace, my mouth was getting away from me, I was slow to respond to what he was telling me. I was just really not where I like to be, but so far off track I didn’t even care. It’s hard to explain but sometimes I get like this.


And then something hits me emotionally, and I’m all don’t you love me anymooooore with Jason. Being the perceptive guy he is, he knows this, and he knew I was getting past the point of no return. So one night, he called me over to him, ordered me onto my knees, lectured me good and hard, reminded me he’s my daddy and it’s his job to take care of me, then put me over his lap and gave me the soundest spanking I’ve gotten this year. I didn’t want it, and I resisted, but he was all Dom. He never raised his voice. He wasn’t angry. He did flip his leg over mine, pinned my arm to my lower back, and very calmly told me that no, I wasn’t the one in charge, and he wanted his good girl back, and that the spanking would be over when I submitted.

I’m no fool and I don’t like pain, so I said things like “Ok ok I’ll be good!” Yeah, that doesn’t fly. It isn’t the words he’s looking for, but my submission. The lack of resistance. Compliance. He isn’t breaking me. He loves my tenacity and iron will. It’s my trust that he’s after. It’s when I let down my wall and let him lead me. When I accept his authority.

He knows how far to take me, and for that I’m so grateful, because I need more than a smack on the ass and a handful of rules. It isn’t about that for me. It isn’t about the physical punishment. It’s about him being in charge, and taking control. It’s about the mental freedom I get from releasing my fears and worries. It’s about being special to him, the focus of his utmost attention. Maybe that sounds selfish, but I know it isn’t. He gleans as much from this as I do. That’s kinda the beauty of it.

He spanked me until I felt the resistance go out of me, and I cried, not from the physical pain of it. Hell, I’ve gotten sexy spankings a helluva lot harder and longer than that. It was from the mental release of letting everything go. Breaking down my walls. Letting him in, and trusting him.

He brought me back to my submissive place, and a week or so later, my back went out. I was left on relying on him without the tools I depend on. I focused on healing, and he focused on taking care of me. Slowly we eased back into things. He refused to spank me and risk injury, though I was so emotionally pent up I truly did beg him.   

So when this week, he patted his lap and took out the rod, even though it wasn’t want I wanted, it was what I needed. 



And really, that’s what’s most important. I still feel the sting of that spanking, and even now, crave going back over his lap this morning for more. I woke way, way before the sun rose with my mind teeming with thoughts and tasks and what needs to be done.

I know what I need. And, thankfully, so does he.