Holidays are a busy time. The comings and goings of family members mean less time for TTWD. Add to it – nothing very notable going on to write about. Until now.
I’ve shared that since adopting Domestic Discipline almost three years ago, arguments between Mike and I are rare. Post 44. Argument and Post 131 are the only two that come to mind. Hummm…perhaps there are a few others. Oh well, you get the point – rare!
Some credit goes to my deference to Mike – more deference=less disagreement. But the main credit is simply adopting a better communication style. It comes down to remaining calm and respectful, thinking before you speak, and most importantly, to come from a place of inquiry – seeking to understand before being understood. That is, make sure you get the facts on the other person’s point of view before promoting your own. EVERYONE can do this, even outside a D/s dynamic. Mike has always been pretty good at communicating this way, well before DD. But for a previous control freak like me, no way. It was not my style and without a focus on being submissive, it never would be my style.
While it is now “my style,” I am not always perfect! Technically this event wasn’t an argument. I think “disagreement” is a better term as Mike never really argued his point, he simply “enforced” it. Ha! That’s getting ahead of the story. Let me start from the beginning.
NEW YEARS EVE
To ring in the new year, Mike and I and our kids were going to spend the evening at my sister’s, along with my other sis and all their kids. The cousins all get along and would have fun with fireworks and just hanging around.
The kids were already over at my sisters and Mike and I would soon join them. Mike and I used the opportunity to have our Sunday Maintenance Session which we had without anything noteworthy. We were in the kitchen talking, preparing to leave in about an hour to go to my sisters. Kayla came out, dressed and ready to leave for her New Year’s night out with Michaud. We all chit-chatted a bit when Mike, out of nowhere, told Kayla to get on her knees and give him a blow job. Kayla had a look of surprise but didn’t hesitate to comply.
I was puzzled and while such activities were not foreign to us, it was just so unexpected, sort of mid-conversation about nothing in particular, Kayla ready to leave out the door, and then, blow job? After a couple of minutes Mike told her to follow him to our bedroom where they then had sex. I was perplexed and puttered around the kitchen for a while and eventually went to the bedroom to check in on them.
I walked in as they were finished and heard Mike tell her to get dressed and she could now leave to Michaud’s. He told her not to “clean up” and to “Leave my cum inside you.” Kayla responded with a monotone “Yes, Sir,” to which he replied, “I think that deserves more than just an acknowledgement don’t you? What do you say to me for allowing my cum to stay inside of you?”
Kayla said, “Thank you, Sir,” in another monotone response. She appeared very expressionless to me, no sign of anger or fear or resentment, but no sign of joy either.
I was in full WTF mode. I was angry. I was not in the mindset of looking for loving intentions. I was not seeking to understand why. I reached my conclusions and reacted.
Kayla headed out of the bedroom – but was still within ear shot – and in a raised voice I said, “Mike, what was that about? Why would you do that to Kayla?”
Mike immediately told me he didn’t like my tone and made it clear he didn’t “owe” me an explanation.
My tart retort was, “You may not owe me one, but you sure as hell owe her one.” It was about that time that I could hear the front door close as Kayla left.
Mike heard enough. “I told you I didn’t like your tone yet you persist with the ugliness. Drop your panties, lift your skirt, and bend over.”
I did not do so. “I disagree. I want to talk about this first. Really, Mike, what was that about?”
Mike’s response was even more stern, “Jen, you are not in a position to disagree. Not only are you talking disrespectfully, but you are disobeying me by not taking position for a spanking and by continuing to rudely question me . Are you going to comply or not?”
In a defiant huff I said, “Fine, but I still disagree.” and did as he commanded.
COMMENCE THE SPANKING
He spanked me very hard by hand, perhaps 35-40 times, and then told me. “Now go to your room, unless you want to disagree some more.” I restrained myself enough such that I didn’t verbally say more, but I had that disapproving scowl that said plenty.
Once in the room I disrobed and stood in the corner to wait for him, as is our normal punishment protocol. When he came in, I immediately spoke, which is NOT in keeping with protocol.
“Mike, I really want to understand…”
He cut me off, “Jen, I do not have to explain my treatment of Kayla. I would have gladly shared my reasons with you had you respectfully inquired. Since you did not, not only are you being punished, but I don’t want to reward your disobedience with an explanation of my actions. Now, stay quiet with your nose in that corner.” As angry as I was feeling, his stern commands actually nudged me a bit into a submissive state, albeit slightly so. (I really do thrive on his control).
He went to the closet and emerged with a paddle I affectionately call, “Mississippi.” It is our widest paddle (as in the wide Mississippi River). It is 4.5 inches wide and 18 inches long. It’s not very thick – I suspect one day it may just break apart on my ass – but it sure covers a whole lot of surface area. Is it common to have nicknames for your toys and implements? I digress, that’ll be for another post.
ONE MISSISSIPPI, TWO MISSISSIPPI. . .
He walked over to me in the corner and quickly spanked me three or four times very hard with the paddle. “Now take a few steps backwards and lean forward, hands on the wall, ass out as far as you can stick it.”
Mike had me count as he spanked me and in keeping with the nickname we have for this paddle, I counted, TWHACK, “One Mississippi,” TWHACK, “Two Mississippi”. . . all the way to ten. At three my butt was already on fire, and at each one after five I let out a little shriek. I was crying by the time I got to ten. These were hard spankings.
ON TO THE LECTURE
Mike lectured me. I’ve written before that lectures are a bit new to us, something we talked about doing more of since our new Contract. Well, he gave a me a top-notch lecture expressing his disappointment in my behavior. As he lectured, he would pause between thoughts and spank me two or three times with the Mississippi, then proceed with his lecture.
Although my crying persisted through the lecture, I was still not in a remorseful state. This was a new experience for me. I’ve written before that my likelihood or degree of crying tends to correlate to the amount of shame or embarrassment I feel (Post 178. Embracing Shame). I wasn’t feeling either of those things. My crying was more about my frustration over the lack of control I had in getting what I wanted. Oh, and also about the painful spanking I was getting. I think this was the first time I just didn’t agree with why I was being punished. After all, it was Mike’s actions that prompted this. I was still mad and focused on wanting Mike to explain himself.
My emotions were obvious and could be seen in my continued disapproving scowl and demeanor. I think I need to learn to fake being remorseful. Ha! Just kidding. That would be disingenuous and thus dishonest. But it might save me from a sore bottom some day. Anyway. . .
My butt was plenty red and on fire. Mike told me to sit down and write lines. He had me alternate lines of “I will use a respectful tone at all times when speaking with Mike.” Then “I will promptly do ask Mike commands.” Then “I will never express concern or complaint about Mike in front of others.” And finally, “Mike knows what is best for Kayla’s submissive needs and desires.”
He had me bend over and prop my arms on the chair and he set me off to my writing with four or five more hard swats with Mississippi. After I wrote each phrase one time, he had me stand and he swatted me once more, then had me sit and write each phrase one time again. Again he told me to stand, swatted me once, and then sit and write again. This went on.
In addition to still being angry, his hovering over me and the interruptions for the spanking between sets made it very difficult for me to focus. Writing lines is typically a calming and focusing exercise. It deepens the feeling of contrition – but not this time. I wanted him to go away and just let me write, and I keep thinking about what he did instead of focusing on my writing. I wrote in a very exaggerated manner. My hand dotted each “i” with a “so there” staccato. Each ‘t’ was crossed with a “take that” slash to it. My body language was anything but submissive.
I wrote 36 lines when Mike had enough. He took the paper from me and said none of them counted. (When I have to write lines, Mike reviews it and I am spanked for errors or sloppiness).
SOAPING AND SPANKINGS
Mike said he didn’t want to be late to my sisters so we needed to “wrap this up.” He took me into the bathroom, turned on the sink, lathered up a bar of soap, and told me to open my mouth. “This is to help remind you to think before you speak.” He rubbed the bar on my tongue then had me bite down on it and hold it in my mouth.
Mike said sternly, “The lingering taste in your mouth and sting on your butt can be your reminder the rest of the night to reflect on your behavior, now bend over.”
I bent over the bathroom sink, soap still in my mouth.
“Keep your head up and look at yourself in the mirror,” he commanded. “You are getting 36 more since that is the number of lines you wrote in an unacceptable manner. You are lucky I didn’t double it.”
SURRENDER (Sort of)
36 with Mississippi is an eternity, especially after having received so many already. Mike varied the intensity, alternating between fairly soft strokes, some medium ones and some extremely hard ones. It was more than enough to make me start crying again. And for the first time I got the shakes during a spanking. Mike even paused to ask me if I was okay, to which I said “Yes, Sir, you may continue.” My body language was very submissive by the end of it. I just wanted it over.
While I was physically surrendered, I still wasn’t mentally surrendered. If this were a typical punishment I probably would have used a safe word to pause or even stop the spanking. It reached an unbearable stage somewhere in the upper teens, but, I my inner voice told me that if I used a safe word I was letting him “win.” I still felt entitled to an explanation. I told myself if I could hold on, I would be preserving my “right” to an explanation. Yes, very foolish to think that way, but in that moment, nothing would have convinced me to think otherwise.
I have had punishments in the past with more spankings than this one, and even some with harder spankings than these. But the combination of the number of them and the intensity of them along with the implement that was used made this one of my worst spankings ever. I think overall I ended up receiving 70-75 with Mississippi – plus the 35-40 by hand to start with, and the handful I got during my Maintenance Session just a few hours earlier. My ass was very much afire and sore. It’s been four days and the bruises are still big and evident.
When he was finished, complete with pee rinse, he told me that he does not consider the punishment complete. He said he expects me to stay up after we got home and start over with the lines and he wants 100 before I go to bed. This meant the potential for even more spankings as I am spanked for any errors or sloppiness in my lines.
He also told me, “For the rest of the night, anything short of a cheerful disposition from you will be considered additional disobedience. I want you to forget about this and get about your normal routine in your normal joyous way. Do you understand?”
Wow. This was the most direct, demanding, and dismissive way he has ever spoken to me. Odd thing is, I kinda liked it. I mean, I still wanted to know why he did what he did. But, I was turned on by his Dominance… oh, only a submissive would understand!
Even though his sternness brought a slight tingle to my nether-regions, I still wanted to know what was going through his mind to order Kayla to have sex with him. I figured I would have to wait for our next Maintenance Session to bring this up — respectfully bring this up!
Even though the issue was not settled in my mind, I was able to put all my thoughts on hold and cheerfully go about the evening.
HAPPY NEW YEAR
Despite a very sore bottom and lingering soapy taste in my mouth, I had a lot of fun at my sisters, as did everyone else. By the time we got settled in back at home it was nearly 2 a.m. Mike told me to skip the lines for the night and he gave me until the end of the day to get them completed.
Kayla got home a little after 2, Mike and I were still up. We chatted briefly and she shared she also had a fun night. She was in the shower as Mike and I were laying in bed when Mike brought up the subject of the days events.
“Jen, I know you still want to discuss what happened. The simple answer is that I am Kayla’s Dom and she is my submissive. You are not entitled to anything more than that answer. If she has questions of me then she has the ability to discuss it with me. Do you accept that?
“I accept it, Sir.” I responded.
“I can hear the ‘but‘ in your response,” said Mike as he easily read my body language ( I really do need to learn how to put on a poker face). I had to collect my thoughts as I did not want further spankings. I kept telling myself I really want to have a discussion and to do that I must remain respectful. I kept thinking to myself, “Loving intentions, loving intentions. Assume loving intentions!”
“Mike, I accept you are Kayla’s Dom and she is your submissive. I am sorry for demanding an explanation from you. I should always assume your intentions are based on what Kayla needs and based on what she will accept from your dynamic with her. If you are willing to share your thoughts with me about what prompted your actions, perhaps I can better understand you as a Dom, and Kayla as a submissive. That can help me be a better submissive to you, and a better friend of Kayla’s.” Phew, I was glad I was able to be calm and collected in my statement.
It was about that time that Kayla got out of the shower. Mike called Kayla over to us. Mike asked her, “Kayla, you are aware that Jen took exception to me having sex with you before you left, aren’t you?
“Yes, Sir, I heard her as I was leaving.”
“Tell me, what did you think about it? If we were able to play that night over, knowing what you know now, would you have wished I simply let you go out without having sex with you?”
“Sir, to be honest,” Kayla calmly stated, “I was perfectly fine with it. It took me a second to process your request simply because it was unexpected and my mind was focused on my evening with Michaud. But it was no more than a second. And I am grateful for what you did, no regrets. It was exactly the kind of thing we talked about.”
Mike smiled and said he was relieved to hear that. He said he knew it was an “aggressive” move on his part and that there was risk. “I know I took a risk with you emotionally, and I am happy to hear you say that I read your needs correctly. Although it gives me a great sense of accomplishment to serve your submissive needs, please always tell me if I fail you, even in a small way.” Mike then looked at me and said, “I don’t want to just be a Dom to either of you, I want to be the right Dom to each of you.”
Holy shit, I feel terrible! I can probably go an entire post for how shitty I feel about my behavior. Mike’s behavior was in such sharp contrast to my own. He excelled at his Dominance. He excelled in how he maintained a calm and Dominant composure throughout me throwing my fit. He excelled in treating Kayla in a way that she apparently appreciated and was needing from him as his submissive. Contrast that with my behavior which was a complete submissive fail.
I apologized profusely. Mike has always been reliable when it comes to having good intentions, even before DD. I should know to not doubt him the way that I did. Any questions from me must always be done inquisitively, from a point of curiosity and seeking knowledge. This is a basic foundation of any relationship built on good communication, with or without DD – and I failed.
I really should have learned by now not to doubt Mike. Perhaps more reflections on this in another post. Yeah, it may take a couple of posts to fully unpack emotionally.
PS. WHAT WAS KAYLA REFERRING TO?
Of course, I had to know what Kayla meant when she told Mike, “It was exactly the type of thing we talked about.” I respectfully asked Mike and Kayla to share what that meant. What I learned was very interesting and unexpected. That will also be for another post!
Yea me! Lot’s to write about!