Taking it Seriously and Having Fun

     If you read my last post, you know that the discipline dynamic is very important to me. Knowing that he is there to pull me up by the bootstraps if I fall short, to correct me and guide me in the right direction is something, quite frankly, that I need.
     J is very easy going and laid back, and I'm pretty well behaved ;) so there's very little need for punishment ... which is the way I like it. However, it's sometimes hard to still feel connected to that dynamic when he's not asserting his control and imposing discipline. 
     Which is why we first implemented maintenance. Over the last few months, though, as J has found more pleasure in the erotic side of D/s and spanking, the tone had somewhat shifted. Maintenance all but disappeared and in its place came sexy good girl spankings and lots of play time. I could feel the shift taking place but I didn't see a problem with it. I so love my good girl spankings!! Over a little more time, though, it was becoming increasingly clear to me that I was not okay with it. Not that I wanted any less sexy time, but I found myself craving the discipline. Because of this, I was acting out and pulling an attitude and it took some time for me to figure out thats what was going on.
     I wrote a post on our private blog about the way things have been going. I wrote about all the growth I've seen in both of us, and how much I love and appreciate all he does. I explained about maintenance and how I was feeling torn between loving my good girl attentions and needing the discipline. I asked if we could make it more formal and structured, to turn it back into a more serious affair rather than something playful. Yeah, you could call me crazy.  
     Once he'd had a chance to read the novel...I mean blog post....he apologized for letting it get so lax, and agreed to make it more structured again.
     I realized, while I was in deep thinking mode, that J had never agreed that discipline was something that he wanted. I mean, he's grown into his role so well that I'd forgotten that small detail.
     Obviously, he agreed to it. But he admitted from the get-go that he was doing it for me.
     This was never something that thrilled me, but it was something that I could live with. I believed deep down that he would realize how wonderful it was for us and that he would change his mind about it. Like I said, he grew into his role...and I was convinced that he was on board, that he was benefiting as well. Last weekend, he said something after a spanking that made me question all of the progress we've made. To be fair, he hadn't meant it the way I took it. It doesn't matter. The point is, I suddenly was very concerned with whether he wanted this or not. It took me awhile to work up the courage to ask, but his response was exactly what I needed to hear.

     We have also been exploring the sexual side of D/s, and having a lot of fun with it. I am greatly enjoying what it is bringing out in both of us. As J's confidence and dominance grows in the bedroom, I feel it strengthen outside of the bedroom as well. Life is good :)

My Need For Punishment

     I have been doing a lot of thinking about punishment, and what part it plays in my spanko-ness. Like your typical spanko, even as a child, spanking was something that stood out to me. I was spanked by my father, but that was different somehow. I avoided spankings from him at all costs...I hardly ever got them unless he was in a really bad mood because I learned how to stay out of his way, avoid him, and do what I was supposed to. There was nothing loving about his spankings, usually he would grab you by your arm or ear and swat you hard a few times, and yell about whatever you'd done wrong. There was no discussion about your mistakes, no explanation as to why it was wrong or what could be done instead. There was no forgiveness afterward, no hugs or reassurances. Sometimes you'd get yelled at again. I hated it. If one of my siblings was about to get spanked I'd hide somewhere I couldn't hear ... I used to tremble listening to it. Don't get me wrong, my dad is a good guy .. he's just old school, and parents the same way his father did.
     The spankings I wrote about in my stories (yes, I remember being as young as 10 or 11 and writing stories centered around spanking, and drawing pictures of people being spanked, too) were not like that. They were loving, and forgiving, and comforting. They weren't graphic, and were always pretty much about a kid my age being punished for something they'd done wrong. As I got into my teens and started liking boys, the story lines to my stories changed slightly. Often I wrote about a girl being punished by her boyfriend, or best guy friend. Sometimes I wrote about friends being punished together.
     One thing remained pretty constant, though. It was always about discipline. I never really thought about it before, but once I did, I just attributed it to not knowing about other aspects of spanking in the past. That discipline was all I knew spanking was and could be, so I didn't link it mentally to anything sexual. Except that once I did link it to my sexuality, it was still the discipline aspect that drew me.
     Before I had ever had my first adult spanking, I had imagined it hundreds upon thousands of times, I'm sure. I'd misbehaved in some way, and I was called to task by a rugged, stern man. There was always a little scolding, a very red bottom, and tears involved in these fantasies. Now that I have been spanked for real, I know that things are not always the same in real life as they are in fantasies. Spankings hurt like hell, for one. Second, it's not actually fulfilling to be punished when you know it comes at the cost of disappointing someone you love very dearly. Letting him down is the worst consequence imaginable.
     Something else I've learned is that all spankings are not the same. For example, a short, light spanking accompanied by firm scolding has a completely different effect than a hard spanking with dirty words whispered in your ear. Personally, I can tolerate a lot less when I am in trouble rather than when he's spanking for the fun of it. It all has to do with the context. This is something I had not realized before I'd actually been spanked, and quite a few times. I had always assumed that a spanking was a spanking and I'd always have the same reaction to it no matter what.
     Now that I've done more extensive thinking about it, I've drawn several conclusions about my need to be held accountable. I have extremely high expectations of myself, much higher than most people would expect of another person. I'm not saying it's bad to have high expectations for yourself, in fact it makes it so that I don't get punished often. If J asks me to do something, 9 times out of 10 it will get done, not because I don't want to be punished but because I feel like I HAVE to if he asks me to. I think that ties in a bit to my submissive personality because when J asks me to do anything, I feel a driving need to do it, and do it perfectly. I feel it's my responsibility to please him .. and if I don't do something he asked or if I behave in a way that is less than what he deserves, even if it wasn't discipline worthy, I have deep feelings of guilt. I know when I've screwed up, and a lot of times, J hasn't even noticed my slight resistance or misdeed, when it's all I've been thinking about. One of the downfalls to this is when I really cant do something he's asked, I feel terrible about it. It doesn't matter if it's something he really wants me to do, or something he wouldn't mind if I waited on, if he's asked me, I feel bad not doing it. That's just how I am, I suppose. I think I'm getting a little sidetracked, but my point is that when I feel guilty about something I've done, and J hasnt noticed whatever it was I did, it feels like he doesnt care how I act or treat him. Which of course is not the case, but that's how my silly brain works. I want to treat J the way he deserves to be treated, all the time. Unfortunately, when I am stressed about something, J is the one who ends up bearing the brunt of my frustrations. It's never intentional, but it happens time and time again. Sometimes, even when it's happening and I'm acting like that, I can see what an insufferableb brat I'm being, and I hate myself for it. I want to stop, to turn my attitude around and be the girl he wants and needs. There are times that I can do that. There are also times when no matter how much I want to, I cannot do that. It feels like I'm running down a hill toward a big mud puddle and I've gotten going so fast that I can't stop myself, my feet are just going and going, a mind of their own. Sometimes, I just need help stopping.
     Being held accountable is actually a huge relief. It helps relieve the intense guilt for doing something wrong, and it's an assurance that there is a way to get through problems. I hate when people are angry or upset with me. It makes me feel sad and depressed, and that feeling is magnified by thousands if J is the one who's angry or upset at me. Having discipline also helps me work through those feelings, and the fear of J getting angry or disappointed in me. Simply knowing there's a system in place, that once I am punished for it, it's forgiven .. that's just huge for me. So while I do not enjoy being legitimately punished, it does make me feel .. content. It fills a part deep inside of me that was left empty for a long time, and it feels good to feel like a whole me. The real me.

Catch Up - a quick update.

     I'm a little late back, but I hope everyone had a great holiday. Ours was lovely .. it was our son's first Christmas, and he was one spoiled little man come Christmas morning! He had a blast tearing the paper off gifts all day, and he even got to eat some ham at Christmas breakfast at my dad's. I was one of the lucky ones who made it through the Holidays without a punishment, thanks mostly to J being very understanding about my stress level. Had he been a less patient man, I probably would have gotten my butt beat.
      After a week and a half of being off work and home with my boys, it was extemely difficult to return to work. I cried that morning before leaving home. Some days it is still hard for me to get myself out of the house, all I want to do is stay home and take care of them. It's an odd feeling, really, because I do love my job, but I dread having to go!
     My sister is home on break from school, and in two weeks is leaving for Italy for the semester. I am so happy and excited for her, because I know what an amazing experience she's going to have, but at the same time I am a little sad. I'm not going to see my sister for the next four months. She's going to be gone until my baby's first birthday! We are very close, and it's going to be hard for me to be that far from her for so long.
     I dont know why I haven't been inspired to write lately. It's not that nothing is happening, because it is. Sometimes, I'll come up with a post in my head, it will sound really good, and then I'll hop on the computer to type it out and I totally blank. Either that or it ends up sounding stupid or not at all like I intended it to. It's been quite frustrating, so I thought about writing some fiction .. it turns out, that's not so easy for me right now either. Maybe it's all the other "little" things I've got floating around in my head that are taking up too much space. All I know is, I don't like it, and I hope it ends soon!!

     I'm hosting a sex toy party on Friday, and I'm hoping that people actually show up! I invited quite a few people, through an event page on facebook, but only a couple people have RSVP'd so far. At any rate, at least after that I'll have something to write  about! :)

Needing More

     The past week or so I've been down. Just not feeling "right", for no real reason at all. I've had plenty of spankings, some little .. some not so little. They were nice, but when they ended, I was left with that empty, confused feeling. Like, you know you should be happy but you're just .. not. I knew I needed more, but I didn't want to admit it. Didn't want to have to ask.
     Last night, I thought I could get myself spanked without having to actually ask for it. J and I were laying in bed together, my back pressed against his front. I kinda rubbed my booty on him and whispered, "I've been a bad girl."
     To my dismay, he replied, "No, not really..."
     My heart sank. Guys, if you have a spanko/submissive girl and she tells you she's been bad, she wants to be punished! sheesh. So, I rolled over and went to sleep.
     This morning, the baby fell asleep just as J was getting in the shower. I climbed into bed in just a tshirt and undies, and waited for J. When he came in the room, I crawled to the end of the bed and stretched out, leaving my bum exposed. He sat down next to me and started whacking me, pretty hard. Then he'd slow down and just give me love pats, which was frustrating the hell out of me. I really needed a good, hard spanking...and I just wanted him to know what I needed. Totally unfair, but that wasn't even a thought in my mind at the time. I was just feeling lost, and I wanted him to come find me .. to lead me home. I just got up and he stopped spanking me. I withdrew. He tried to ask me what was wrong and I couldn't give him an answer. It sounded so stupid in my head, 'you weren't spanking me hard enough, you weren't serious...' and I certainly couldn't say "I need a spanking."
    Later on, when the baby was having his second nap, he started asking me what I needed.
     I looked at him seriously and said, "I can't say it." I was texting with a friend while he was talking to me.
     "You can tell me." he insisted.
     I shook my head.
     He leaned over to see who I was texting with. He told me to tell her he said Merry Christmas.
     I added "J says Merry Christmas" at the end of the text I was sending in reply.
     She knew that he wanted my attention (she's a dd wife too, after all) and we ended our conversation.
     Even though I really didn't want to, honestly thought I couldn't, he made me tell him what I needed. Not just once, but he made me repeat myself because I 'wasn't speaking loud enough'.
"What do you need?" he'd asked. "Tell me."
     Finally, I whispered, "A spanking."
     "What?" he asked.
     "I just said it!" I cried, feeling my face flush bright red.
     "I didn't hear you, it wasn't loud enough."
     "A spanking," I said, just a little louder.
     "You need a spanking?" he asked, grabbing my bum.
     I nodded, avoiding eye contact. I was so embarassed.
     "What do you want me to use?" he wanted to know.
     I didn't want to choose. I didn't want control over anything. I told him, "Whatever you want to use."
     He went to the drawer, and picked out the five fingered strap and the naughty spatula. He sat in his computer chair, and motioned for me to come to him. At my whimpered protests, he shook his head and repeated himself, more firmly.
     The spanking started over his knee, with the naughty spatula. After a while this postion became harder to hold, and he had me bend over the arm of the loveseat. He continued for a bit with the spatula, then moved on to the five fingered strap.
      I did not take this spanking gracefully. I had to be told many times to move my hands. I cried out, begged him to stop. It hurt, but it wasn't bringing me to the place I needed to be.
     He talked to me, and asked me questions. He made me answer. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he said, "Twenty more of each." He delivered them firmly.
     When he'd finished, I was in that stage just before crying. I don't know if this happens to anyone else, but a lot of times before I actually cry, I "dry cry"...which means I'm basically crying, but there are no tears. I haven't fully let go. I lifted my head and watched him go to the drawer to put the implements away. I started to get up when I saw him pulling something else out .. the black strap. I whimpered. "Are you serious?"
     He looked at me, very serious indeed. "I think you need more."
     I buried my head, and thought I would cry right then. My butt already hurt and I didn't want any more.
     "Am I wrong?" he asked, bringing the strap down on my sore bum.
     I cried out, kicking my legs.
     He repeated himself, then added, "Answer me."
     "No sir," I answered softly, tears filling my eyes.
     He got down to business then, setting my backside on fire. He told me a couple times to keep my hands out of the way, then eventually pinned them behind my back with one hand while he strapped me. At one point he paused to pull my pants down.
      I started sobbing, and pulled my hand free, covering my burning cheeks.
     Thankfully, he stopped, and walked away to put the strap back. When he came back to me, he pulled me to a standing position and into his strong arms. "I love you baby," he murmured. "Are you okay?"
     "Yes sir, I love you too." I answered quietly through my tears. I cried for a few minutes, and felt much, much better afterward. I curled up on the bed, and he laid down beside me.
     "Was that what you needed?" he asked.
     I nodded. I was slightly embarassed, but I wanted to tell him anything he wanted to know.
     "What was it that did it, the little extra at the end to just set you over?"
     "I guess.."
     He held me, and hugged me, and kissed me. He told me how much he loves me. Then he showed me just how much he loves me. Reminded me that I belong to him, and he to me. It was just the reset that I needed.

EdenCooks : Whopper Cookies

     I'd like to begin this post by saying that I do not bake often. When I do, it's usually pre-mixed packages that all I need to add is water or milk or eggs, you know... so baking cookies from scratch is totally new to me.

      But when I saw this recipe for Whoppers Cookies, I knew I had to make them for a get together we were attending with my father-in-law's family. The night I decided to make them, my sister was at my house, and was going to help me. I had looked over the recipe a bunch of times, continually checking that I had all the necessary ingredients. After I'd taken everything out and put it where I could easily access it, my kitchen had begun to look like a war zone!

     After painstakingly measuring, mixing, and sifting ingredients, the dough was finally ready. I pre-heated the oven and started putting scoops of cookie dough on the cookie sheet, just as the recipe instructs. I put them in the oven, set the timer, and poured a glass of wine. As the delicious scent of warm chocolate filled my home, I swelled with pride. I was so excited that I would have something to bring to my husband's grandmothers' house.





      When I opened the oven half way through the cook time to switch racks, I gasped. I didn't think they looked how cookies should look. My sister suggested we finish cooking them and see how they turned out. Maybe they were supposed to be that way. I followed her advice, but the cookies did not come out right. They were bubbly looking, and I was totally puzzled. I had measured every thing perfectly, I was sure of it! I had checked the ingredients over and over and over, I couldn't have possibly left something out.

     I went back over the recipe, and I realized that when I had made the initial ingredient list, instead of writing baking powder like the recipe calls for, I wrote baking soda. I'm guessing that's why my cookies didn't bake correctly. The upside to all of this is that they still tasted good, if a little brittle. I knew if I brought the cookies to the party like that, my sister in law would have had some snide comment to make about it, and I complained to my sister that now I would have nothing to bring. She suggested crumbling the cookies and layering them with pudding and whipped cream as a desert. I did, and it turned out delicious!

     I'm glad I tried this recipe from the EdenFantasys community club EdenCooks! They have other really yummy sounding recipes, too .. check them out :) Or, if you're looking for a sex toy to spice up your New Year, there's a wide variety there to choose from.

What happens when stress runs high at Christmas time?

Holiday themed spatulas get used for beating butts instead of cooking!

The Girl Who Cried Wolf

     When we first began testing the ttwd waters, I suggested coming up with a safe word. As those who follow me or read often probably know, I was the one to bring this lifestyle to J. He was uncomfortable in the beginning, and I thought that having a safe word would alleviate some pressure on him, knowing that if it was ever too much that I would safe word out.
     He refused the idea. He declared that if I said "no" or "stop" that he would end the spanking and that would be that. He maintained that there was no need for a safe word. At this point, he didn't really get that even when I said "no" or "stop" or whatever else came to mind to get out of a spanking, I needed him to follow through and spank me thoroughly. Of course he did get over that, stopping when I asked him to or said no. But the topic of a safe word did not come up again. He never brought it up, and I didn't feel like we needed to have one.
     Last week sometime, we were in our room and he had me bend over his lap. He was sitting in a computer chair, and the position was pretty awkward for me.
     Actually, awkward is an understatement. It was starting to hurt my back, and I kept saying "No, no more ... stop!" Looking back, I dont know why I didn't just say it's hurting my back, but for some reason that didn't occur to me.
     He didn't stop. He kept spanking me until he was satisfied. When he let me up, I immediately reached back and started massaging the spot on my back that was sore. "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.
     I assured him that I was, and he told me that I should have told him to stop. "I did," I reminded him. "I said it over and over and over."
     "Well, I thought you were just saying no and stop like you do sometimes. You know, no doesn't always mean no, does it?" he asked.
     I shook my head. "I guess not," I agreed.
     "It's a bit like the boy who called wolf." he related. 
     That's how we came up with it. The safe word that hasn't been called a safe word. Wolf. I can't imagine myself needing to use it, but it's kind of exciting just having it in place. The idea that we could be so consumed by our play and passion that I might have to use it is very arousing. I'm sure I wouldn't feel that way should I need to use it. But the thought is hot.

     Really hot.