63. Ice Ice Baby Redux – A solution!

IceCup

Vanilla ice?  There’s nothing vanilla about this story as it ranks pretty high on the kink-ometer.  Yep, I continued to struggle with trying to break my ice chewing habit.  As Mike felt he could only spank me so much and so hard, he had a novel idea – and it worked, sort of.  Sometimes, all it takes is the right motivation to focus your mind so that a simple and obvious solution appears to you.

Here’s an interesting observation, at least to me – I found that I would only chew ice when I was drinking alone.  At the dinner table or around others, never a crunch, but sit down in front of the tv or computer and I’d chew away.   Not sure what that’s about, but I just wanted to throw that in there if anyone has any great psychoanalysis feedback.

Anyway, as promised, Mike escalated the punishments and this time proceeding to insert ice up my bum.  Four good sized pieces, and then had me hold it for one minute.  He then had me expel them, and then he repeated with five pieces.   Extremely uncomfortable, almost instant cramp feeling.  While there were still in, a paddling of 10 very hard ones and then held for 60 seconds, then expel.  That was it, but that was enough.

I knew I was destined to repeat my ice chewing and I didn’t want to think about where else the ice would go next.  I knew I couldn’t just rely on will power alone, or rely on this form of aversion therapy.

Suddenly, I had this simple solution hit me like, well, like a frozen jolt in the ass!  How could I have not thought of it sooner?   The simple solution is that I now do not drink from anything without a lid.   I am drinking from a straw or with a lid that has a small opening to drink from (no ice getting through).   Out of habit I find myself swigging the cup back as if to draw some ice into my mouth.  Bam!  The ice hits the inside of the lid and no ice for Jenny.  I’ve gone two days ice chewing free!

Okay, no more ice talk.  I promise a steamy story for my next post.  Perhaps another pre-DD story or give an update after another evening with John and Donna?

Next: 64. Strip Quarters

 

64. Strip Quarters

Quarters

I am writing this post under a bit of duress.  Mike suggested I write about some of my sexploits from my youth.  It isn’t that I mind sharing – I am pretty much an open book.  But, I no more want to blog about what I had for dinner, (pork chops, sauerkraut, and mashed potatoes), give reviews of the last movie I watched (Citizen X, meh!), talk politics and religion (uh, no and no), than I want to share the amazing sexual adventures of a young and energetic Jenny.

I wanted to keep my blog focused on our DD journey.  However, there are only so many DD-happenings in a week that perhaps it can get mundane.   Spanking for this, spanking for that, blah, blah blah.  So, under the threat of tremendous punishment and public humiliation, I shall write about one of the stories Mike mentioned.

Okay – I hope you all got the light-heartedness of my tone.  If not, re-read the last few sentences with a sarcastic tone.  In all seriousness, while not my preference, I have no problem sharing such things.  It didn’t take any threats, it simply took Mike asking me to share this.  Yes, Sir!  Such is the life of a submissive!

Strip Quarters
This is a variation of the Quarters drinking game.  The difference is that along with taking a drink, you also had to remove one article of clothing.

To keep this adult oriented, let’s just say I was 18.  It is possible I was a year younger than that, but that’s for me to know and you to only assume if it makes the story hotter for you.  Plus, if you aren’t concerned with  minor factual details, again, let’s just say I was 18 already.

Amy and I both had boyfriends (mine was not Mike at the time, oh, and neither was Amy’s, as Mike conveniently didn’t mention, he also dated Amy at one time, but not at this time).  One of the guy’s parents was out of town so of course, it was party time for the four of us.  The guys had already been drinking before we started playing Quarters.

We start the game and eventually Amy and I were even with just our shoes, socks, and shirts off.  So we were in our pants, panties, and bra.  The guys were naked.  Their nakedness was not new to us as on a few occasions we have had sex in the same room….my boyfriend with me, and Amy’s with her, and on a few occasions we’ve watched each other give head to our respective boyfriends.   With the guys effectively out of the game, they wanted Amy and me to continue.  We did, and I lost my bra and pants, but still had my panties on, and Amy was now topless and down to her pants and panties.  We look over and the guys are passed out.

We discuss whether or not we should finish, and since neither of us were big drinkers we figured we’d had enough and would stop.  We tried to arouse our boyfriends but they were out cold, and frankly, the thoughts of sex with them didn’t appeal to either of us as they would probably not get it up, pass out on top of us, or worse, piss and puke on us.  Okay, let’s reset the mood after that buzz kill of a visual.  Remember, both of us are topless.  Two topless young women.  Let’s proceed.

Amy and I are slightly buzzed, a bit aroused, and our guys are laying naked and out like a light.  It was a funny moment as we looked around the room, looked back at each other, looked over at the guys, and then looked back at each other.  It was like we both instantly thought of the same thing and simultaneously got up from our seats and lunged towards each other into a deep kiss and embrace.

We ended up on the floor and completely forgot that the guys were in the room until we had brought each other to orgasm through manual and oral means.  When we were done we looked over and the guys hadn’t budged.   They would have so freaked out if they woke up as Amy and I had never shared our secret with anyone.  I think we would have freaked out as well.   We joked afterwards that if they did wake up we would have just denied it and said it was obviously a drunken dream.

So, that’s the strip quarters story.   Amy and I having sex in front of our passed out boyfriends who, to this day, don’t know they missed out on a show.

Note from Mike:   Okay, yes, I dated Amy in high school.  I wasn’t hiding that, it just wasn’t pertinent to my last note.  I only dated Amy so I could hang around Jenny more while she dated these hideous jerks (better known as my friends).  Okay, not all were jerks and not all were my friends.  Oh, and it also helped that Amy had nicer tits.  Ha! That’s a joke.  As in, that is a fact, but it was intended to be funny.  Hey, to be fair, apparently one of these guys had quite a large cock, so Jen tells me.  No shame in that.  Amy had nicer tits than Jen and Jen’s boyfriend at the time had a bigger cock than mine.  It is just the facts.  

If you wonder how I feel about these stories, the answer is they are a part of her history and I enjoy knowing all her history.  That history has no bearing on our love for each other in the present, no more than my history does – although admittedly mine is a bit duller.   Jen’s quarters story is one of my favorites because it really captures her openness and the casualness at which she approaches every adventure.  No worries, no stress, no regrets, no judgement.  Just in-the-moment fun.  That’s something she slowly got away from until DD entered our lives.   She now once again is living in the now, is fully present now, and not giving up a piece of the now for some elusive promise of the future.   Just like she says in her post, I Found my Thrill.

Next: 65.  Full Body Flog

 

62. Sexual Adventures of Pre-DD Jenny

Feel
Mike gave me the suggestion (or is that an order?) to write about my sexual experiences in my younger daze, um, I mean days.   I might as well start from the beginning, way back to my virgin days.   Yes, hard to imagine, but I was once a virgin.

I joke that by the time I had sex with a guy (at age 17) I was a very experienced virgin.  By the time the “magic moment” arrived I was well versed in mutual manual and oral stimulation – both with guys and yes, with girls (actually, girl, as in singular).   My first sexual experience was in 1984, before it was an in-thing to be bisexual / lesbian.  Not to say it is always accepted today, but it was not talked about back then and definitely not something you wanted people to know about.

I’ve know my best friend for life, Amy, since kindergarten.  She lived just a few blocks away and we were extremely close.  So fast forward to when we were 15.  We had seen each other naked countless times so it wasn’t even a thing.  Amy had a swimming pool in her backyard and it was pretty secluded, so one of us, not sure which, got the idea to skinny dip.  We would get freaked out every time we heard a noise that sounded like a car pulling up or a car door closing.  We would run and grab our suits and then laugh when no one was there, then get naked again.

One day we were finished with a swim and we were in her bathroom drying our hair.  We both had shorts on but no tops.  I commented about her breasts, which I’ve done before, regarding her abundance and my lack thereof (she developed quite early and rapidly).   She made some comment about me being obsessed with her tits because I always stared at them and talked about them.  Guilty as charged!  I said something about them looking so squeezable or something like that and she said something like, “Well, give them a squeeze and see.”   It wasn’t a sexual thing, it was just playful and innocent, or at least seemed that way.   Well, apparently I groped her for several minutes in a trance like state.  We were real quiet while I squeezed and gave her a major feel up.  Her nipples got big and when she noticed it she broke the trance by covering her tits with her arms and moving my hand away and saying “enough!”  We then both just laughed and I said something like, “Yep, they are squeezable.”  That was that.  Nothing more to it.

It wasn’t much longer after that day that Amy and I were talking about masturbation.  That was a common topic for us as we would tell each other about our favorite things to hump and pretend.  She told me that ever since I “felt her up” (as she referred to it), she realized how good it felt to play her nipples.  I was quasi-offended at her statement that I “felt her up” and part-joking/part-serious said that “I did not feel you up! I was just curious!”  Amy then said something like, “Well, I am curious too.  Can I feel yours?”   So, I let her.  It wasn’t long before we both had our hands in each other’s shirt.  This curiosity turned sexual.

Without going into all the details, the curiosity that we satisfied that day with a mutual grope session turned into greater curiosity and greater satisfaction on subsequent days and weeks.  While we took it slow, it eventually led to us exploring many facets of lesbian sex.  Neither of us felt bad about it.  We both liked boys (a lot) and both felt like we weren’t “having sex with another girl.”  We were just having sex with each other.  It was nice that we never attached anything negative to what we did.  I think that healthy beginning, added to my zero sense of shame, set the stage for a positive outlook on all things sex and my sexuality.

I’ve got a lot of Amy sex stories, not all involving just her and I messing around.  We also roomed together in college.  I could fill several posts with our many adventures. Perhaps another time, and I’ll stick to the stories that occurred at age 18+.   It’s kinda’ creepy thinking about who might be getting aroused by stories of my early pubescent romps (yes, I am talking to you, you sick f*ck!).   Just kidding.

A word from Mike:   Hello all, not sure what to add, but Jen asked that I occasionally share my reaction to a post.  Not much for me to react to as these stories are old news to me.  Jen had confided in me about her and Amy back when we were in high school, and the story of their initial fun together is tame compared to other stories.  We have nicknames for some of those stories such as “Strip Quarters,” “Night Swimming,” “Pube Shaving Party,” and “Reunion.”  I’ll let Jen reveal those in time.   I’ve never known Jen to be shy in the bedroom, but even after all these years and 25 years of marriage, the last year and half have definitely taken things to an entirely new level of exploring.   I am a lucky guy.

Next:  63. Ice, Ice, Baby Redux – A Solution!

61. The Iceman Cometh

Ice
Dang this ice chewing habit. I am required to self-report transgressions and Mike had me text him each time I chewed ice today. THREE TIMES!   The good news is I didn’t do it all this evening.  In any event, he’s come up with a creative punishment for the three infractions.

We just finished up dinner and he is playing a game with our son and said he will take care of getting him to bed.  “Mom has a headache and is resting.”  After dinner was done and all cleaned up he sent me to our room where I disrobed and stood in the corner awaiting his entrance.  Mike gave me a few minutes to blog which is different in and of itself as usually he isn’t one to mandate blogging. I think he is anxious to share his punishment idea. Here’s the drill tonight –

I thought he was going to spank me, but when he came into the room he shared that he had other plans. “Oh, yes you are going to get a spanking, but that will be a later. First, were’ going to do this.” He went into our treasure chest and took out the breast harness he bought. I think I mentioned it before. I wear it like a bra but it is cupless and has straps that go around the breast.  The straps can tighten around the breast. We call it my breast binder.   He had me put it on and he tightened the straps pretty tightly.   “Now,” he said, “put on your tack bra.”

Wow, I didn’t expect that. With my tits propped up and sticking out there would be little give for the tacks against normally softer flesh. I simply said “Yes, sir” and put the bra on. He gave a little squeeze and push on the bra, just enough to make me twitch from the pokes.

He then walked me to our closet and had me stand in the middle of the doorway, facing the door jamb that is opposite from where the door hinges are. He had a tape measure and had me stand six inches out from the door jamb and then instructed me to put my arms behind my back and lean into the jamb so that one breast was resting against it. Ouch! He had me count to ten, then told me to stand straight back up and now do the same with the other breast.   Again I counted to ten. Now he had me stand 12 inches from the jamb and repeat. Being further away meant than when I leaned forward and made contact with the jamb I would be putting more weight against my breast and with my arms behind my back I hit the jamb with a bit more of a thud. I am not prone to cussing, but I gave out a soft “Fuck” between my gritting teeth as I could feel major pokage (Is that a word? It is now). “That will be an additional spanking for cussing,” Mike said.

I counted to ten, and then repeated with the other breast. When that was done, he said, “let’s take a look.”

I removed the bra and sure enough there were three or four tacks that broke through the skin. Most just came right out as I pulled back the bra, but a couple were in deep enough that I had to pull them out by themselves. No blood, but it hurt to pull them out.

He told me to go blog about this and he would be back soon as there was still more before the spanking. He said when he returns we will repeat this at the 12 inches mark however I will stay leaning forward for 5 minutes per breast AND I will hold an ice cube between my teeth the entire time just partially in my mouth with most of it sticking out. He will put a cup of ice within arm’s reach and said I needed to replace it once it melts. I am not to wipe my chin or worry about water dripping down and that I’ll get to clean up when it’s done. He will check on me periodically.

Add one more thing to the list of “things I don’t like that I’ll do anyway.” This one will hurt, but I anticipate it is still within my limits. I can safe-word out of it if it comes to that.   I mentioned before this wasn’t considered a punishment bra, but, I guess it is now!

He said once this was done I would get my spanking plus the spanking for cussing. He also said if this doesn’t help change my habits, my next infraction would have an even more uncomfortable punishment. He said the ice would not just be put in my mouth next time.   Okay, I don’t want to think about that. Plus, I don’t think that image would look as appealing as the one on this post.

Well, time to get pricked and poked!

NEXT:  62. Sexual Adventures of Pre-DD Jenny

 

 

60. Mine, Mine, Mine! Rediscovering my Thrill.

thrill
Did ‘ya notice I used an image for the first time on my prior post?  I’ve been wanting to do that but due to time constraints I always opted for the just plain text approach as I know I would spend way too much time trying to find that perfect picture.   Well, as much as I liked the picture on that post, it wasn’t me that did that. (although I did pick out the one on this post).

I mentioned before that I will often write my posts here and there throughout the day or couple of days.  Even when I am done I often let it sit for a bit and then come back and give it a final proof read and then post.  Well, last night I was already in bed asleep and Mike came in to get ready for bed.  I woke up and we talked a bit.  Mike asked me if I happened to post anything and I said no, but I had one ready to go and just need to give it a final proof read before I post. He said, “I’ll post it for you.”

I said, “No thank you Sir, I’ll get it tomorrow.”   He insisted, “No, I want to try that. Give me your login.”

Wow, that was a very dom-like request.  He is definitely getting the hang of it, but I wasn’t in a mood to give kudos.   This blog was MY space, my thoughts, and just plain old mine, mine, mine!   It reflects me.  I didn’t want him invading that space.

My response was sincere and not argumentative.  “Mike, I appreciate it, but I am not sure it says what I want it to say just yet and I need to review it.”

“But Jen, you said it was done and just needed a final proof read. I can check for typos you know.”

I responded, “I know Sir, but I think of the blog as part of me, and I want to do the posting.”
Mike quickly responded, “Sure, it is a part of you, and you want me to be in control of all parts of you, so give me the password.”

So I did and he logged in and posted that prior post for me.   He didn’t change anything, just fixed a typo or two and added the image.   It pained me as he was looking for an image and commenting on how it would be more appealing if I used images.  In my head I was thinking, “no shit, but don’t always have the time to spend looking for just the right image because I’ve got so many things to do.”   Even as I was thinking this I was also thinking to myself, “That is not a very submissive thought and, despite any anger, I am getting that nice sub-tingle feeling with Mike being dominant.”   I had this internal dialogue going on the same time I was talking to Mike.  It was like the pre-DD Jenny arguing with the submissive Jenny.   I made several attempts to persuade Mike to stop.  Ultimately, the final product looked fine, but my issue wasn’t about the final product, only that the final product wasn’t 100% produced by me.

I found my Thrill – Revisited.
Mike and I continued to talk about it.  I remained calm and respectful although inside I was mad.  Luckily I was able to stay calm and avoid a spanking over it.   Mike pointed out one of my prior posts, “I found my Thrill.”  In that post I wrote that full submission is a state of full attention, which is not narrowed down by any kind of desire.  I further stated that submission is about total surrender of physical, emotional, and mental self. . . a state of pure bliss I wrote that this was the very source of my thrill about submission.

“Are there going to be exceptions, such as your blog?” Mike said rhetorically.   “Jen, you say you want and need to be submissive, but you tend to find little things that you want to exempt.  That is fine with me if that is the submission you want, but frankly, I don’t believe you do.  You may want that in the moment, but then you later feel lacking in your submission but can’t always identify why.  I think it is because you try to take these little exemptions here and there.  Well, I am not going to allow it.  I can edit or change your posts as I choose.  I have no desire to change your online persona from the person you are, but you’ll just have to trust me on that.  I am not going to answer to you on this issue, so just accept it.”

Wow.  I was stunned.   Stunned in a very hot, sexy, and tingling all over way.  He was being the Dominant I want.   I gave a very pleasing, “Yes, sir” with my eyes big and a smile!

While I have been getting more submissive – I’ve been saying the phrase in my head, “it’s not my preference, but I’ll do it” with ever-increasing frequency lately – Mike was right.  I still tend to probe for too many exceptions and perhaps Mike has been too quick to grant them in the past.  Not that I won’t still share my feelings, and not that Mike still won’t allow exceptions for me, but it was clear, it is Mike who is calling the shots now.  No longer is he just executing on my specific requests with the exactness that I have explicitly agreed to and taking our dynamic only in the specific course that I have set.  Now, he is leading.

His phrase was, “I may decide to allow you to have certain things of your own, but never will I allow us to violate the values of our DD and our D/s dynamic.  The result is, sometimes the answer will be no, and you’ll accept that answer the first time or else you will be punished.”

Yes, sir!

Next: 61. The Iceman Commeth

59. Ice, Ice, Baby

Ice
Just a quick update regarding the week thus far, which includes a punishment for something I’ve never been punished for previously!

Well, after my sexcapade with Donna on Monday, our plans for more girl fun haven’t materialized.  She worked half a day Tuesday and needed the other half to complete her chores, then today was a particularly chore-filled day for me plus a dentist appointment.  There’s always tomorrow.

Speaking of the dentist.  Turns out I have a little crack in the tooth.   Our Contract is not specific on this issue.  Thus, determining whether or not this was a Transgression per our Contract required arbitration by the Submission Rules Committee. . . better known as, “Mike had to think it over.”   It only took him a few seconds to rule.  Verdict – a Reward for Jennifer!

Here’s the deal – our contract has a Self-Care clause that states I have to look after my physical well-being and specifies “no cavities.”   A cracked tooth is not a cavity.  However, one compelling fact was that I have a bad habit of chewing ice.  I’ve done it pretty much my whole life.  It’s such a habit that neither Mike nor I had even thought about it as a habit.  It was just something I do.   While the dentist couldn’t say conclusively my ice chewing was the culprit, she did say that it certainly didn’t help, and as I am just a few years shy of 50, the years of chewing are likely catching up with me.

So, I got a good whuppin.’  I don’t know why I am so jovial about describing it, because it wasn’t fun.  Mike has really turned up both the velocity and impact of my spankings.  I am not complaining – of course, a part of me likes it, and the point is they aren’t supposed to be pleasant.   And shortly after the spanking based on the doctor’s report, I got a drink and within a few minutes I chewed ice.  Another spanking!  Was that enough?  No, I did it again later in the evening.   Yet another spanking.

This habit is going to be tough to break.  The mental exercise I am trying to remember is oral sex 101.  Suck, don’t chew.  (Okay, I am sure for some of you chewing is okay, you sick bastard, but that’s not us).   I can’t help but put ice cubes in my mouth when I take a drink.  I’ll remember for a minute not to chew and just suck, but at some point I just have to bite down.   Ug, this one is going to be tough to break.  I hope my ass can handle what’s ahead until it is broken (the habit that is, not my ass).

60. Next:  Mine, Mine, Mine! Rediscovering my Thrill.

58. Sex with Donna . . . What did I forget?

Those of you who only know me by my latest posts are getting a heavy dose of sexual adventure. That definitely reflects my life over the last two to three weeks. Don’t forget though that to me, I am a typical housewife, with typical challenges and demands in life. I just have an atypical way of addressing them. And through that atypical way, domestic discipline, has far surpassed my wildest dreams. I am happy, Mike is happy, there are far fewer conflicts and those that arise are quickly and completely resolved, and we are exploring many of our lifelong sexual fantasies. I feel fulfilled and feel a greater sense of purpose and value, as does Mike. This one time control-freak who thought they had it all together now really does have it all together.

So, a story about today . . . .

I had the mornings and early afternoon to myself as our son started back at school. Donna was off work today and she came over at 11, just when it was time for me to remove the plug. I was naked when she arrived as I remain naked at home until it is time to pick up my son from school. She disrobed as soon as she was in my house as we now have this rule that she and I have to be naked when entering each other’s house – assuming no other guests. When we open the door the first question we ask is, “Hi, do you have any guests?”

Fast forward about, oh, 60 seconds, maybe less. We started kissing and groping and diving right in to having sex. It was wonderful to just have each other to ourselves without the guys around.

Well, we were still going at it when Mike came home as he often does for lunch. It was quite comical as he walked into our bedroom and calmly said, “Hello Jen, hello Donna.” It was as if we were just sitting at the table enjoying some iced tea instead of naked on the bed with our faces buried in each other’s pussies. However, he then said, “Jen, you were supposed to text me when Donna comes over and Donna, you are supposed to let John know as well. We agreed you all could have sex without us, but we needed to be informed.”

Crap, I forgot, and so did Donna.

Donna texted John right away and let him know she had already been over and forgot to tell him.   A few minutes later Mike’s cell rang and it was John. They talked for a while. When the call was over Mike told me to go get “little bit.” That’s the name we have for this 12 inch oak paddle we have. He made a point to tell Donna that John said she not only needs to watch, but that she would be next. John wanted Mike to spank her.

This is new. Mike and I have both spanked and flogged her before, but as part of play, not punishment, and John was always there.   I met this with mixed emotions. Part of me thought, “What fun, we get to share a punishment!” But part of me said, “Wait, this is just between Mike and me. Do I really want him punishing someone else?”   Whatever conflict I was thinking in my head I didn’t show it. I got the paddle and brought it over to Mike. I got over his knee and he gave me some warm ups by hand, then proceeded to give me 15 with the paddle. He then had me stand up and told me to put my arms above my head and face him so I could watch him spank Donna.   He called Donna over and had Donna go over his knee.   My thought was, “not over the knee.” That is too personal, too intimate. Why not just have her bend over. It made me a little sad, and actually a little jealous, and I am not prone to jealousy.

He gave her some warm ups by hand and then 15 with the paddle.   He then said that in addition to the punishment for not informing him and John, we also would be punished for using up part of his lunch hour. He instructed both of us to stand on each side of the bed, then, keeping our legs on the floor, bend over so our chests were flat on the bed. He told us to hold each other’s hands and to look each other in the eye. He then took off his belt and gave each of us 10 very hard ones.

I was thinking, “Oh no, now the aftercare. That is very personal. That’s MY time with Mike. Plus, John and Donna have different rituals, she doesn’t appreciate what we do. This is isn’t for her. Don’t let her into our aftercare!”   All of this was going on in my mind. I didn’t actually say anything.

Mike called us both over and he hugged each of us with one arm and told us to hug as well so we were in this group hug. He had us state why were punished, however, instead of ending in the “all is forgiven” part of our Aftercare, he said, “All is forgiven with me, but there is still John who was not respected. Jen, you will go over to their house this evening so that John can spank both you and Donna, and then all is forgiven.”

Okay, now I am really freaking out inside. I was punished once before over at their house without Mike and I hated it. I didn’t like that Mike spanked Donna in such an intimate way, including her in the aftercare, and now I have to get spanked without him.   Again, I didn’t say anything.   I know I am putting a lot of meaning into all of this and I could try to rationalize it away, but it doesn’t change how I feel. There’s not much in our DD that falls under that category of, “I don’t like it one bit, but I’ll go along with it.” This falls in that category.

So, about an hour ago I went over to John and Donna’s, without Mike, and John spanked the both of us. He used this three pronged strap called a Tawse. That was new to me. I was nervous because John and Donna are more aggressive with giving/receiving pain as Donna as a bit of a masochist. Plus, from my last experience I knew the act of getting spanked just isn’t as fun when it is someone other than Mike doing it. I kept myself focused on the fact that this all was Mike’s wishes and by submitting to this I was submitting to Mike. That helped, a bit. Overall I’d say it did hurt more than Mike’s spanking earlier, but I wasn’t all that focused on it. I was more of the mindset, “just get it over with.” Emotionally I was disconnected.   I got through it and that was that. I really don’t like getting spanked by anyone but Mike.

So, I am back home now, chores all done, red ass and all. I journaled a bit and, of course, wrote this. I’ll make sure our son is gets wound down and into bed and then I have a bit of quiet time with Mike, channel surfing or whatever he wants. Then showered and in bed with lights out by 10 p.m.

Tomorrow I’ll remember to text Mike! Okay, actually, it won’t be tomorrow because Donna works. So maybe the day after! Funny that Mike and John didn’t think that a worse punishment would be to say we couldn’t see each other for one week!   I think that they would feel they would be punishing themselves as they both love the fact that Donna and I had sex.   We had to share all the details with them!   Typical guys!

My attempt to accept getting spanked by John is simply to accept that I don’t have to like it. I probably shouldn’t like it. It is a punishment, and even though Mike wasn’t doing the spanking, he is still exerting dominance by ordering me to submit. I really love that part. Regardless of my love for that part, I will strive to never have to repeat that. I will obviously share these feeling with Mike, not in an effort to make him stop this, but simply because sharing our feelings is what we do, well, for sure something that I do. And if I blog it, I am sure to talk to him about it. I don’t want him learning something from the blog that I didn’t already share with him.

By the way, Mike and John made it clear to us that when Donna and I “transgress” together, there will be dual punishments if those transgressions fall under the rules of both houses.

So be it. The life of a sub isn’t always going to be fun.

NEXT:  59.  Ice, Ice, Baby.