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.