Tag Archives: corner time

280. You can’t beat that! (a spanking story)

280

Mike is going out of town on business for a couple of days next week.  He hasn’t told us what his plans are regarding WWAA! (When We Are Apart).  Typically it is some combination of me or Kayla spending a night with John and Donna, or they stay the night at our house, or Matt stays the night or I stay a night at his place.   We shall see. 

If you’re keeping score, it’s actually been awhile since the three of us have had sex with John and Donna.  Now that it is football season, I suspect tomorrow may be an opportunity to all play together.  One thing or another has just limited our play with them the last month or two (other than Immersion when we played a lot with them). Maybe tomorrow – J is spending the weekend at his brother’s house and John and Donna are coming over for “game day.”  As in, football — and yes, sex!  

SPANKED LAST NIGHT
I got quite a spanking last night.  My butt is very sore and bruised and my boobs still are bit polka-dotty (is that word?  It is now!).  Actually, much of it looks a bit more like a rash than polka-dots, but “polka-dotty” sounds so much for fun than “rashy.”    Anyway…. so, what happened? 

DISRESPECTFUL
I was dealing with an issue with J and talking to him about it.  Mike chimed in and I took exception to what Mike said.  In hindsight what he said was very supportive of the point I was trying to make to J, but it was just a slightly different angle and a little bit different than the point I was trying to reinforce with J.   I reacted as if Mike was undermining me, not supporting me.  I snapped back at Mike, in front of J. 

Now in the history of spouses “snapping” at each other, my little snap probably ranked as a two on a scale of 1-10.  Regardless, disobedience is an absolute.  I am either obedient, or not, and I was not.  My tone and words were disrespectful. 

This occurred just as J was going to bed.  Mike sent me to my room in as subtle way as possible.  “Jen, I know you are frustrated, why don’t you go to our room and relax and I will make sure J gets to bed.”   I knew that “relax” was code for, “prepare for discipline.”  I went to the bedroom and stood in the corner awaiting his arrival. 

SOAPING
To my surprise, Mike came in after just a few minutes.  He walked me to the tub and had me stand in it.  I knew what that meant.  He lathered up a bar of soap and told me to stick out my tongue.  He rubbed the soap on my tongue and then around my lips before putting it in my mouth and telling me to bite down.  “I need to see teeth marks when I take it out.”  I was told to stand there, with my hands clasped behind my head, until he returned.   

It seemed like forever before he returned.  It was about thirty minutes which, in “soaping time” is just short of forever.   He asked me if I had ever put my arms down during that time.  I nodded as the soap was still in my mouth.   A few times I had lowered my arms just to stretch them and relax them and I returned them to position as quickly as possible.   He told me I just earned some extra spankings. 

He had a glass which he filled with water.  He took the bar out of my mouth — it had clearly visible teeth marks — and let me rinse with the water in the glass.  He then told me to kneel and as is our typical soap discipline, he peed in my mouth and I rinsed with his piss.   With a soaping it is mostly just rinse and spit, but I often am required to swallow at some point.

I still have this strange relationship with this whole pee thing.  I don’t like talking about it — I am sort of forcing myself to do so now.   Yeah I post about it here and there, but I often skip sharing most of my pee related punishments.  The idea of it is so repulsive to me.  But the reality of it just isn’t nearly as repulsive as the thought of it.   For me it is the most submissive thing that I do.  Emotionally I like the idea that I allow Mike to piss in my mouth and yes, that I often drink it.  There, I said it.  I like it.  You are probably puking about now.   Anyway, it feels good to just own it!  Let’s move on. 

A PADDLING, OR TWO, OR THREE
Mike then turned on the shower and used the wand to rinse off the drool, suds and pee that was on me.  He told me to get out and dry off as he went to our closet to choose a spanking implement.  He emerged with two different wooden paddles – a long thin one and one very wide one.  Before he paddled me, he told me to just get it all out and let’s talk about what my issue was. 

We calmly discussed it.  It was unreal just how calm the discussion was.  I wasn’t upset – at him or at myself.  I already realized that he was trying to be helpful and that I over reacted.  And I also had reconciled that my over reaction wasn’t some monumental failing on my part.  Just something that happened “in the moment” as a reflex on my part to responding to what I perceived as a threat to my “mommy authority.”   What he said to J clearly was no threat and if anything, was supportive of what I was saying.  All of this to say that my mindset was simply, “Yep, I screwed up, and I hope this discipline can influence that ‘reflex’ so that I don’t repeat my behavior. 

I even had thought about the fact that my snapping at him, while unacceptable, was very mild and illustrated how far I have come.  There was a time my retort would have been anything but mild.  I was feeling a sense of accomplishment with my DD, and fully accepted that I had earned this punishment.  Thus, I was able to discuss what happened very calmly.   It helped that Mike was also calm, which 99.9% of the time he is.   As a quick aside – he strives to make sure he disciplines me in a calm manner.  Now calm doesn’t mean he isn’t stern — he can be very stern – but he always exudes a sense of control and calm.  

We talked a bit and I apologized for my behavior.  He then had me grab my ankles and he went about spanking me, pausing from time to time to lecture me.  The spankings were very hard and I had no sense of just how many I got.  Maybe fifty, maybe more?  

He then took me the bed and had me lay on my back.  He raised my legs and had me grab a hold so that I was in a diaper position.  He spanked me some more.  This position is particularly painful as the butt is pulled tight and he can (and does) strike at  the top part of my legs just below the butt cheeks.  Again, I don’t know how many I got.  But it was plenty. 

TACK BRA
When he was done, he had me put on my tack bra plus another bra over it.  I have an older bra that is too tight to wear, and instead of getting rid of it, Mike had this idea that it was perfect for tack bra punishments.  I put it on over the tack bra, so it is even more tight.  It presses the tacks more into my skin and just adds to the overall discomfort.  I then was told to stand in the corner and he left the room.

He returned, maybe fifteen minutes or so later.  He told me to get ready for bed and that I was to leave the bra on and I could shower in the morning.  “And when you are ready, you will go to the other room and get to bed as you will be sleeping by yourself tonight.”   
Ug.  Now that hurt more than the throbbing butt or the tacks scratching and poking into my breasts.  Mike rarely imposes this is a punishment and I think I dislike this one more than anything.  While I am just in the next room, it feels so isolating – as if I have been banished and not worthy to be in anyone’s presence.  It really hurts emotionally. 

I got ready for bed and went to the spare room and laid down, ready to go to sleep as best I could with the tack bra still on.  I had never head to sleep with it on before, and in addition to the tacks, the straps were uncomfortable as they were tight around my shoulders.  Fortunately, Mike came into the room just as I was finally dozing off.  

He was naked as is normal.  He told me to sit up.  He was standing over me and as I sat up on the bed he reached around and removed both bras.   We both looked down at my breasts which were covered in tiny polka dots of redness and pock marks.   I don’t think it was his plan, but he reached out and fondled me gently, as to sooth them.   As he fondled, his thumbs rolled over my nipples several times.  As if instinct, I reached out and grabbed his cock and it quickly became hard in my hands.  This is not how my discipline typically goes.  We keep sex and discipline separate, but, it was just one of those things that neither of us planned, and neither of us wanted to stop.

So we had sex.    

When we were done, he kissed me goodnight, had me recite my Evening Mantra, and said he would see me in the morning.  He turned out the light and closed the door behind him.  I no longer felt any isolation.  I felt warm inside…maybe because I literally was, hee- hee.   That feeling of, “Yeah, it’s not my preference to sleep alone tonight, but it is the consequences of my action and of my submission, and I cherish my DD soooo much.”

This morning he was up before I was, which is rare.  He came into the bedroom and woke me.  We hugged, and “all was forgiven.”   

REFLECTION
Once again, I contrast this outcome with the pre-DD outcome.  Pre-DD my snapping would have scored a 9 or 10 snap-scale, and it would have most certainly triggered a bigger argument about semi-related and totally unrelated things.  It would not have resolved itself.  The anger would linger for days, even weeks, before finally suppressing itself waiting for the moment to rear its ugly head in the future. 

Instead.  All is truly forgiven.  Peace, reconciliation, and growth.  Personal growth and growth in our relationship and love for one another.   

You can’t beat that!  

NEXT 281: Why Domestic Discipline? Reflection

217. Domestic Discipline 1, Self Discipline 0

217
The hand of self discipline may best come from the hand that spanks you.

I’ve been meaning to share what happened at my girlfriend “lunch bunch” get together. (The one I mentioned in Post 211. Eek! Dom Fail).   But, I keep thinking of other things to share and now, well, now it will have wait.   Here’s the thing — 

MY GROWING OBSESSION
This is my 17th post this month, that’s a lot for me.  I have felt this increase impulse to share – almost an obsession.  This month I also joined a couple of different online DD communities.  I also have a few pen pals so to speak – people I email with back and forth.  People I met through my blog or those communities.  On top of that, there is my “vanilla” online self via Facebook and Twitter, and the texts and emails I exchange with friends and family members.  I have spent many more hours this month on every one of the things I’ve listed here.  

I have shared before I have this tendency to want to be everyone’s problem solver.   Not in a “you should do this” sort of way, but more like a therapist.  Listening and guiding, not dictating.  Mike recognized I was spending an increasing amount of time on these things – any down time I had would be spent with my head buried in my phone, or typing away at the computer.  Mike warned me he felt it was interfering in my duties.  Nothing concrete he could point to, just a sense, thus, it was just a warning. 

HAPHAZARD HOUSEWIFE
Yesterday, I was in our bedroom putting laundry away when Mike came in.  He commented on how sloppy our bed looked.  I had made it, but clearly not to his liking.  He looked at things I had folded and also noted they were not up to my usual standard.

He was right, I was going about my chores haphazardly, and to be honest, I admitted to Mike that I was hurrying to make more time for myself.  Kayla and Michaud were taking J to the movies, and I wanted to use the time for some “me” time, which lately means “online time.”  (And yes, Michaud was coming over to our house afterwards, but that’s another post).

Mike told me to go stand in the corner and he would be back once Kayla and J left, which was not for another thirty minutes or so.  I undressed and stood in the corner.  I hope we don’t end up worrying J about “mom’s headaches.”  That’s our go to excuse when I am indisposed in the bedroom for extended periods of time.   I digress. 

Eventually they left and Mike returned to the room.   I was called over to kneel before him. “Keep your eyes down,” he commanded as he stood over me.

He lectured me for some time, about how my past tendencies seem to be surfacing. He covered issues that he knows push every one of my “buttons” regarding what is important to me. He said he was disappointed in himself for only warning me instead of disciplining me. He thought by now I would have the self discipline to deal with it on my own, but clearly, I did not. 

He sat down in a chair and called me over, across his knee.  He spanked me countless times by hand.  I started to cry.  It was a hard spanking, but I’ve had much harder.  It was more about the emotional release of guilt.  I truly felt guilty.  He was absolutely right.  (I’ve written before about crying).   I was absolutely too immersed in my online world and too immersed in every one else’s problems.  Typical pre-DD Jenny.

He then told me to fetch “The Beast”, our 32 inch rubber prison strap.  It’s been awhile since he has used it (now I wish I hadn’t made that post about nicknames).  Nervous and crying, I brought it to him.  I was keenly aware that no one else was home, so my impending shrieks were of no concern.

He told me to get on the bed and lay on my stomach. He then went into our toy box and came back with various restraints, cuffed my wrists and ankles, and secured them to the bedposts.  “These are going to come quick.  I want to hear you clearly and quickly count these out, else we start over.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He started with fairly moderate whacks, only three to five seconds a part.  By the third my butt was stingy, and by the fifth I could tell they were coming with increased intensity.  I screamed, “Six, thank you Sir” and before I could catch my breath, “Seven, thank you Sir,”  Number eight came down very hard, and I yelled, “Eight, thank you Sir.  Yellow Sir, yellow!”

Mike pauses and rubs my butt.  “You deserve two more, so I’ll give you a minute or two so we can finish.”  I sob with my face buried in a pillow for the entire time and eventually manage to say, “Okay, Sir, I am ready.”  

“Nine, thank you Sir.  Ten, thank you Sir.”   

Mike rubs my ass and gives it about ten quick swats with his hand.  He doesn’t say anything and for a moment I thought he was retrieving another implement, but then I realize he simply left the room.  Adding to the discomforts of being splayed out with my arms and legs spread wide and having a red hot butt that I want to rub so badly, is the fact my pillow is wet with the slobber and tears of a a good cry, which hasn’t yet fully subsided. 

It is almost thirty minutes before Mike returns and the punishment is over.  Before he formally called it to an end, he says, “I want you to figure this out.  You don’t need me policing everything you do.  Fix this.  Do your online stuff so that it doesn’t interfere with your responsibilities around here.  Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” 

As emotional as this punishment was for me, I totally appreciate it.  I know myself, as does Mike, that left unchecked it was clear things would have only gotten worse.  While I enjoy doing those things online, my fulfillment is found in my duties and obligations to Mike and my family.  While I have free time, I need to manage it better.  That was only made more clear by what happened about an hour later. 

I finished my morning chores and was preparing some lunch for Mike and I.  After lunch I had some “me” time that I planned to use to work on the blog.  I went to go boot up my laptop so it would be ready, and found it was already on.  “Oh goody, let me just quickly check one thing.”   Well, you know how it is.  The rabbit hole of social media!!  Looking at one thing became responding to one thing, which became looking at another, etc.

“What’s that smell?” I said to myself.   Oh no, I left some beans on the stove.  Yep, they were burned – what a smell.   Mike had been outside doing stuff in the yard, and when he comes in, I had to fess up. 

“I’ll make my lunch today, go to your room,” he commands.

 To be honest, the thought in my head was simply, “SHIT!”  I was very disappointed in myself.

I was crying from just standing in the corner. Mike eventually comes in.

He calls for me to again go over his knee. He spanks me by hand for a very long time, making sure to repeatedly and thoroughly cover every inch of my ass in redness.  Again I am told to lay on the bed, this time on my back.  My wrists and ankles are again shackled.   He goes into our closet and comes out with the blindfold, violet wand, and a crop.  The crop actually belongs to John and Donna, but I wasn’t even wondering how it go here as my mind was clearly focused elsewhere.  It is the thin riding crop with a heart shaped end to it.  

To make a long punishment short, while blindfolded, Mike proceeds to zap me, and zap me, and zap me.  Side of one breast, then the other, one nipple, then the other, my sides, my belly, my thighs, my pussy, and even my clit.  He then gets the crop and spanks my thighs and pussy harder than he has ever done so before.  I have been swatted a few times here and there on my pussy, but never had a full punishment focused on it.  This was, how shall I say it?  It was all about the thighs and pussy. 

My emotional tears became tears of pain.  Not unbearable, at first, but eventually, I called yellow, then red.  I don’t remember the last time I called red?  I probably posted about it.     

Mike calls the discipline session to a close, and tells me, “I am keeping your phone the rest of the day.  If someone calls or texts, I will let you know if you can respond.  I will also take your phone in the evenings when I get home from work, or I will keep it with me all day if I work from home.  I will be checking your accounts, emails, and phone for any activity.  I don’t want you responding to anyone or posting anything on any site or form of social media without my permission.  That includes your blog.  Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Oh, and I want you to blog about today’s events, so you have permission to do that, but I don’t want to see you as much as comment or like or anything else without my permission.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Suffice to say, it may be a quiet week or so from me regarding posting or responding to people.  He didn’t say I couldn’t, and he didn’t say he would always say no.  But, I still think easing off a bit on my own will be good.

Quick reflection
I would have done this in another post, but since I don’t know when that would be, well, here it is.   Odd thing was, when I admitted to Mike that I was rushing through my chores, part of me expected him to say, “Oh, darling, let me help so you can get in your me time.”

I am glad his response was to send me to the corner and discipline me. It is so clear to me where things were heading, and the burning of the beans was the icing on the cake (ew, burnt beans would not be good icing).   Ha, you get the point.   I was falling into an old habit.   It wasn’t just perusing the internet or keeping in touch with people.  I was becoming invested in helping too many people solve their problems.  

Helping people is not a bad thing and that is NOT a habit I want to rid myself of – nor does Mike.  It is the tendency I have to let it overtake me, consume me, hypnotize me.  It’s like my own dramatic television show that I get hooked on and have to binge watch.   All things in moderation!  Even helping people. 

My plan is to better prioritize my online activities.  I don’t really like Twitter, so I have deleted that account – no more getting sucked into the Twittersphere (and no longer reacting to the latest tweet from President Twitler).  Facebook?  Meh, an occasional check here or there, but no need to look up every friend at once and start commenting and liking everything they post.

If friends and family want help, well, the best way that should be done is in person.   I don’t need to know their every passing thought, concern, hang up, problem, etc.  If they want to talk, come over for lunch or something!   That leaves me my blog and my “email” friends – people I have met via my blog or other online communities that I exchange emails with.   THAT will be the focus on my “me” time — that is, whenever I am not using it to just chill in front of the tv or go out and about with no particular purpose (window shopping!).

Pre-DD, this would have been left unchecked and would have resulted in conflict with Mike.   Instead, it has been solved, and my resolve to not repeat this is strengthened.

When self discipline fails, domestic discipline sails!  hee hee.

NEXT: 218. Other forms of discipline: Restrictions

148. Dom/sub Therapy Session

148

My last post talked about my little spiral towards a self-pity party.  The trigger for this self-absorbed unhappiness was the challenges I was having in maintaining a submissive mindset.   Those frustrations with myself leached into frustrations towards others (such as Mike and Kayla).   This led me to my discussion with Mike that I shared in that last post.  

Before I get into how that discussion went, I want to give kudos to my man!  Mike is such a great listener and the perfect Dom for this submissive!  Kisses!!

THE DISCUSSION
After venting, I said I think I should give up trying to shape my thoughts to be more submissive.  I felt I just am not cut out to think that way and it is too hard to undo a lifetime of reinforced behaviors that were far from submissive.  I’ve conquered being submissive in my actions, and it has brought me great joy, but I can’t seem to keep my default thinking, my reflexes, from being non-submissive.  I told him I wanted to scrap the “think submissively” goal I had.   

HOW CAN I HELP?
After sharing my frustrations, Mike asked, “Is that it, or is there some way I can help you?”  

My answer?  I wasn’t sure.  Just like the “nail” video I linked to in my prior post, I think I just wanted to be heard and vent.  And it seemed simple that just reverting back to our “normal” D/s routine would fix it.    

Mike agreed it was good for me to vent.  But, he said that abandoning this “submissive thinking thing” could be a missed opportunity to get at the root of my challenge.  This could mean the issue is still there, unresolved, and can fester.  I admitted it was impacting how I treated others.  As he put it, I owed it to everyone, including myself, to find resolution.  He asked me if simply venting and abandoning this goal was enough to resolve whatever I was feeling.  

I admitted that it would not.  It sure would “take the nail out,” but, it wouldn’t identify why I struggled with it in.  

I WONDER IF?
I told Mike I’ve done the soul-searching and can’t identify why I am feeling and reacting the way that I am.  Mike said, “Do you think giving up is better than continuing the search?”   No, I do not.  

Mike then said, “I wonder if your frustration is really about your doubts of whether or not you really want to go “deeper” with your submission.  It might be, but let’s assume for a moment it isn’t that.  Let’s assume just the opposite.  That it is what you really want.  Then why the frustration?”

I said, “Because it is harder than I thought it would be.”

He replied, “So, I wonder if it were easy, you would want it, but because it is hard, you don’t?”

I had to admit that yes, I wanted it if it were easy.  Yes, I still wanted to think more submissively.  His response was, “Then why stop?”

I then went back in to the litany of things I listed on my prior post.  It would be easier if this, easier if that, etc., etc.  If those things didn’t exist, it would be easier, but because those things exist, it will never be easy, so why keep being frustrated?  I especially pointed out the things with our son.  His needs have been especially high, although they did just recently settle into routine again.  

Mike pointed out that the needs of our son are often a trigger for me.  A trigger into frustration over other aspects of life.  I know where he was going as we have had this conversation before.  I figured it out myself long ago.  When J’s needs increase, my stress increases.  As my stress increases, I vent it by being more controlling and demanding of others.  I then see others as obstacles to my happiness, and passive-aggressive tendencies emerge, jealousy emerges, and basically, the pity party is in full swing.

I told him that I get all that.  Been there, done that, too many times in my life.  I told him that because my attempts at “thinking submissively” were not going well, yes, it caused this spiral.  But I just want off the spiral – Now – and not incrementally over time as I improve towards my desired thinking.  I told him perhaps we just revisit this in a few months.

What Truly Matters?
Mike then said, “You have said many times that what truly matters to you is to be submissive to me.  You’ve said that your greatest enjoyment and pleasure has come from when I do things off script (the things not explicitly stated in our Contract).   You admitted just now that you want to think more submissively and your only reason for abandoning this is that it is ‘too hard.’  So here is what we are going to do.”  

He continued, “You are to no longer punish Kayla.  It is understandable that having to be part-Dom at times would make it hard to stay in a submissive mindset.”   

“Secondly,” he added, “our mini-Maintenance Thursdays will change.  You will journal all your non-submissive thoughts and we will review and discuss them on Thursdays.  The Thursday maintenance will always be the same.  5 with the prison strap, 5 with the cane, hard intensity, followed by 30 minutes sitting in the corner for reflection.  There will not be any other punishments for ‘not thinking submissively.’  We will continue these mini-sessions until I am satisfied you have reached your goal.

“Lastly, there will be no further discussion about this for a month.  You can bring it up at a Maintenance Session in a month if you have questions or concerns.  Oh, and one more thing, we will end today’s session with 10 hard from the strap and 10 hard with the cane.”  

That’s a hard ending to a Maintenance Session as most sessions have low to moderate spankings.  I didn’t question why he did that, nor do I care.  He was right, my greatest enjoyment and pleasure comes from him being Dominant in his own way, separate from anything we specifically outlined in our Contract.  

Retrospect
I am only one day removed from this, so don’t have the benefit of much thinking about this.  Part of me absolutely loved Mike’s actions, but part of me still wonders if this “submissive thinking” is a worthwhile goal.  Knowing that basically there is no punishments involved, other than what is scheduled for Thursdays, helps relieve a little bit of the pressure I feel.  — That statement may be easy to misconstrue.  The pain of a spanking doesn’t create pressure for me to perform.  Actually, the pain is very much a release, sort of absolution, for me.  It is about what the spanking represents… failure…and not about the pain… that serves as a deterrent. 

This experience highlights for me that my pre-DD ways are not far from the surface.  I can quickly devolve into my control-freak ways if I allow it.  Well, let me correct myself.  Now I can say, “if Mike allows it.”   Which apparently he won’t, as my bruised butt attests!    

NEXT:  149. Kayla Rises.  A Submissives Manifesto

142. A Spanking, Lines, and Corner Time

142Nun

Sorry for bit of a cliff hanger on the last post.  I had to wrap up as I had things to attend to.  Oh the irony if I earned a spanking because I didn’t complete a chore because I was spending too much time writing about a spanking story!  

As I shared in that post, I was at the store and was tempted to buy something without permission.  I shared before that years ago I went through a compulsive shopping issue.  It actually spanned several years.  As part of putting my contract together I wanted to be subject to a budget, and it evolved to where I must ask Mike for permission to buy anything other than everyday household items like food and toiletries.  

The item was nothing extravagant – it was a simple blender.  Ours broke quite some time ago but we rarely use it and didn’t miss having it.  But I saw a cute one that was also on sale and I thought it would be fun to get.  I imagined the smoothies I could make, both alcoholic and kid-friendly versions.   I rationalized that I shouldn’t bother Mike at work with this, and I would just get it.  It seemed unnecessary and it was so clear to me we would use and enjoy this blender.  I went so far as having it in the shopping cart!

VICTORY!
I then had this deja vu moment as thoughts of
Post 71. Good Girl came to mind.  Not just the feeling I had for transgressing, but also the punishment!  Ouch!  Yes, the discomfort of a spanking can be a great deterrent.   So, I put the blender back on the shelf!   Win for DD.  Win for Jenny.    

This happened during the day while our son was at school.  Mike was working for home.  When I got home I shared this story with Mike thinking he would have the same sense of accomplishment for what our DD had done to help me mend my ways.  Instead, he sternly spoke to me.

DEFEAT?
He said, “Jen, yes, I am very happy you didn’t buy something without permission.  That would have certainly been bad to do, but, that doesn’t excuse how close you came to trying to rationalize actually buying it.  It concerns me that you went so far as to have the item in your basket.  While you should have a sense of accomplishment for putting it back, I none-the-less feel a responsibility to address your actions.”  He went on to say that he felt it wasn’t enough for a punishment to serve as a deterrent.  He felt part of the goals of DD, as I have expressed them, were to actually change my thoughts and behaviors.   While clearly it changed my behavior — I didn’t get the blender — it didn’t change my thoughts. 

There was silence when Mike was done speaking.  I didn’t know how to react and frankly there wasn’t anything I could say.   Trying to defend my actions would make it worse, and part of me understood what he was saying.  It was just so disappointing to go from this emotional high of thinking of this as a triumphant “win” to the sudden and jarring conclusion that it wasn’t.  I could tell Mike was thinking about what to do. 

LINES
He told me to go to our room, put on the tack bra, and sit and write lines.  I would keep writing until he came to the room.  The line was, “I will always ask Sir for permission to buy something that I am not allowed to buy without his permission.”   He had me repeat the assignment to ensure I understood it.  He then told me to go our room.  Walking there I kept repeating the line to myself so I wouldn’t forget it.

He came into the room about 10 minutes later.  I had written 12 lines.  He told me to lay on our floor, face down, hands behind my back while he reviewed my lines.  This pressed the tacks firmly against my breasts.  He then told me all 12 were incorrect.  I left off the word “his” as the second to last word.   He also did not like the way I wrote the word “permission” as it was messy on four of the lines.  He said that is 16 mistakes, and thus would earn me 32 spankings, two for each error.  

MORE LINES
He then said I had 10 more minutes of writing and he expected to see 15 perfect lines. He would add another 2 spankings per error and add 2 spankings per word that I was short.  In other words,  there were 20 words in the line.  If say I only got to 14 lines at the end of 10 minutes, he would add 40 spankings (20 x 2).  He had me repeat these rules back to ensure I understood them.  

He had me get up off the floor and told me not to adjust my bra and to sit and write.  He got out his phone and started the stop watch and said, “your time starts now.”

I’ve had to write lines before, and I’ve been timed before, but never had him there staring at me.  Also, when I’ve been timed I have been able to look at a clock so I could tell how I was progressing and whether or not I should try to speed up or not.  It was terrible not knowing how much time was elapsing.  Adding to this was the sharp pains in my breasts where several tacks were poking me something fierce.  

I was trying not to think much about the time and concentrate on my penmanship, but when I finished the eighth line I did think to myself, “okay, just over half way done and I think that was about five minutes.”   When I got through with line 12 i thought, “well, that’s as far as I got last time and I am going a little faster, so probably have a few minutes left.  It will be close.”   Line 13, “I will always ask Sir for permission to  – “STOP!”
Mike told me time was up.  

He told me to get back on the floor on my stomach while he reviewed my work.  10 words left on line 13, plus the 20 for line 14 and 15.  So 50 missing words.  That’s 100 spankings.  

He then said, “Again, you wrote the word “permission” a bit sloppy.” One…two…three…four…five times.  And on two of the lines you didn’t capitalize “Sir.”
That’s seven mistakens, for 14 more spankings.  So let’s see,  32 + 100 + 14. That’s 146. What do you think of that?” 

What was I to say other than, “I think this is good. Thank you, Sir.”   He then said, “Well, not quite good enough.” 

“I am going to give you your 146 spankings, then you are going to sit on what will be your red ass and you will write the word “permission” two hundred times.  We will then see if there are more spankings to come.”

Up to this point I was very composed.  He had me stand up and he removed my bra.  There were several tacks imbedded in my breasts such that my bra stayed stuck to me even though it was unclasped and the straps were  off my shoulders.  He pulled gently to fully remove the bra.  There was a short-lived but sharp sting as the tacks came out of my breasts.  While not overly painful, it made me start to cry.   As I shared in the prior post, I don’t cry that much over a punishment and when I do, it is mostly about what I was feeling at this moment.  

I was feeling very humbled and very remorseful.   The issue of controlling my shopping habits has a long and painful past.  I was feeling the guilt of those past transgressions, a guilt I thought had left me for good, but re-emerges anytime I make this type of mistake.
Further adding to my emotions was a part of me that was saying to myself “but I did so good in putting it back.” 

THE SPANKINGS
Mike said not all the spankings would be on my butt.  He went “Catholic school nun” on me and gave me 10 strikes with the ruler on each palm.   Those actually hurt more than spankings.  He then administered the remaining 132 on my butt, a combination of hand, belt, paddle, and wooden spoon.  The majority were with the spoon.  He said he choose the spoon because it was a kitchen item and thus seemed appropriate since this was prompted by a blender.   

YET MORE LINES
My butt was very red, sore, and ultimately bruised.  It was hard to sit and write “permission” 250 times, especially as my palms were still stinging as well.  He didn’t give me a time limit and it took about 30 minutes to complete.  I brought my papers to his office and he reviewed the lines.  He asked me if I were him, how many mistakes would I find.  I told him while every line was not identical, I felt they were all extremely legible and clear.  I always get a little nervous when he asks me to critique myself.  Luckily, he agreed.

FINAL PUNISHMENTS
I noticed that he had a butt plug, lube, and a ball gag at his desk.  He told me he wasn’t quite done with me yet.  He had me bend over as he inserted the plug and then he told me to stand in the corner in his office with my hands clasped behind my head.   He put in the ball gag and as I stood in the corner he rubbed my red butt and gave me five or six quick swats by hand.  At that time I didn’t expect more spankings and was now unsure of what was to come.  I was already quite sore and I immediately started to cry.

He gave me several more by hand and then explained that this was specifically for the transgression regarding the blender whereas the other spankings were over the mistakes in my lines.  He then spanked me some more by hand, maybe another 15 or so, then sat back down at his desk and went about his work.  I cried for several more minutes.  

If you aren’t familiar with ball gags, they can make the jaw uncomfortable after five minutes or so, but more than the discomfort, it is the drooling that bothers me the most. Quite a bit of spit ends up dripping down on and between my boobs and it just feels uncomfortable.  Add to that the tears and snot from crying and well, you get the picture. 

About fifteen minutes later he walked over, removed the plug and bit, and we had our Closing Ceremony.  That was that.  All was forgiven.  I left his office, cleaned up, and went about my day. 

REFLECTION
As I reflect on this punishment, I think about what if Mike had looked at my actions the way I initially did – as a triumph!   Would the encouragement and recognition of a job well done been more effective than a punishment?   Hard to say, but I believe Mike’s actions were justified given my history with shopping.  It is a history I need to always keep in mind so that next time, I don’t even think to put the item in the basket.  There are reasons I agreed to asking Mike for permission, and reasons I wanted his help in addressing my bad habits.  I accept his judgement that a punishment was in order and believe it will help ensure my compliance with the commitments I have made to him and to myself. And ultimately, that is what my Domestic Discipline is all about. 

Next: 143. My Evolving Submission

 

 

126. Catching up (on spankings and other stuff)

CatchingUp

As so many of my recent posts have focused on Kayla, I thought I’d talk about what is going on directly with me.  So, here’s a hodge-podge of things I thought I’d catch you up on.  

JOHN AND DONNA
We do still get together with them, maybe twice a month.  Maybe one of those two times will include the three of us, and sometimes only Mike and Kayla have gone, or even just Kayla by herself (but that’s another story for when I am talking about her experiences).  John and Donna are super-close friends and have been very accommodating in participating in TTWD.

Something I didn’t share on my last post – on one of the nights that J was at my parents, I spent the evening out with John and spent the night with John and Donna.  Sort of as reciprocation for Mike’s date night with Donna as well as Donna spending a week or so with us when John was out-of-town (Post 82. Enjoying the Ride, and Post 84. Happy Place). In doing so, my role there was to be completely submissive to John and be subject to any and all of his rules.  Although it was an extremely fun evening, and one I don’t mind repeating, I am glad it was just for one evening and night.  Such diversions are great, but my greatest fulfillment will always be playing with and directly serving Mike.

BTW, although I am not focusing on Kayla on this post, I will say that Kayla now allows both John and Donna to have sex with her.  One happy mini-orgy!  

One more quick thing about Kayla.  She will always be part of most posts simply because she is a big part of our life.  We don’t consider her as just living with us, or just experimenting with us.  While those things are true, it is deeper than that.  We all love each other and express that in many “vanilla” ways every day.  Which leads me to my next topic. 

BOWLING OVER MY SISTERS
I posted before that I “came out” to my sisters about adopting domestic discipline as well as my relationship with Kayla.  And although not my original intent, I did tell them about my blog.  Sis 2 said she read it, and Sis 1 said she didn’t want to know “those things” about me.   The way she explained it was that while she wants to know ZERO percent about our parents sex lives, she only wants to know about 20% of her sisters, and what I told her was more than enough to meet that quota.  She doesn’t want to know more.  

Sis 2 was far more curious and had to read it.  One of the things she told me was, in a non-judgmental and half-joking tone,  “So, my sister is a “predatory-polyamorous-swinger?”   I know she was jokingly teasing me about “predatory” as she knows Kayla is an adult (granted, a young one at that) and my sister understands the situation there.  As for poly, I  recognize I am in a poly relationship, but I don’t think of myself in the context of that label.  Same for the term “swinger.”  Yes, we swap and stuff with John and Donna, but, swinging occasionally on a single swing doesn’t really amount to being a swinger to me, no more than going bowling a few times a year makes you a bowler. (Ugh, not a good analogy, but, that’s what I told my sister).  Sticking with that analogy I said, “at the moment I am bowling, yes, I am a bowler, but outside that moment I don’t consider myself a bowler.  So I don’t consider myself poly or a swinger, although certainly the relationships I have definitely fit those definitions. 

MY DD / Punishments
It’s been awhile since I talked about it, but I do get routinely spanked.  At one point not too long ago I went more than a week between spankings…maybe like 9 or 10 days.  That was my longest stretch. Even though I received my Maintenance spankings, it got to be too much for me and I had to ask Mike for a spanking.  This was only the second time I have ever done that (I shared the first on Post 42). 

Similar to that occasion, I had this building sense of restlessness and uneasiness over nothing I could identify.  The only feeling I was sure of was that I knew a spanking would “cure” it.  Yes, those endorphins are addicting and, in their own way, relaxing!  Also, spanking gives me a unique way of connecting with Mike that is just different from anything else.  I guess I was missing that.  I get immense satisfaction from submitting to him.  Allowing him to spank me is part of that submission and thus part of that satisfaction.  

I am not one to “brat” to get a spanking.  While it is fine if others do it, it just isn’t for me. I find it inauthentic and not as fulfilling.  I know this because I tried it before.   Nope, I either want a spanking as a punishment or because I asked for one.   

Of course, wouldn’t you know it, right after my requested spanking I had a series of transgressions that earned me more.  All minor stuff, and all stuff a “vanilla” would be appalled at.  And I say this as I use the reaction of my sisters as my litmus test for how a “vanilla” would react.  I shared this with them as well (because they asked).  Yes, even Sis 1 who doesn’t want to read my blog will still ask me questions.  It’s like she wants to know, but doesn’t want to know.  Anyway, here were some of those spankings: 

Open Door / Open Mouth
I left our garage door open over night.  Not only a no-no, but this was a THIRD offense so the spanking and punishment was quite harsh.  He took me to the garage and I was spanked extremely red using the push ups from our
Calisthenics of DoomMike then had me stand in the corner of the garage with one of the doors open for about an hour.  You couldn’t see me from where I was standing, but it was eery to hear the sounds of neighborhood so plainly.  I could hear people talking who walked by walking their dogs and stuff like that.  He also had me hold the remote to the garage door in my mouth the entire time.  Probably ruined it with my slobber but we don’t really use it since the cars have their built in buttons to open/close the door.  He repeated this punishment for three straight mornings.  

Dome light gets the vibe.
Another punishment also had to do with the car.  Maybe I have some subconscious issue with the car?  Anyway, for some reason I had turned on the dome light inside the car.  Not where it just comes on when you open the doors, but where it stays on permanently until you turn it off.  I forgot to turn it off and the battery died.   Hey, it is something anyone can do, so why get punished?  Because those are the consequences I not only agreed to, but that I crave.  I am so lucky to have a husband willing to deliver those consequences.  In addition to a spanking, Mike got creative and had me stand in the corner with a small vibrator inserted and left mostly inside me for about an hour.  As pleasurable as that vibe can be, an hour of buzzing in one spot while standing up is definitely not a joy.  The upside – I felt phantom vibrations for a few hours afterwards that were quite pleasing!

Iron Mike Hangs ’em Up.
The last one I’ll share really insults the feminist as it is a poster child for 1950’s misogyny. I iron all of Mike’s clothes and normally I leave them out until I have ironed them but for some reason one day I went ahead and hung them up un-ironed.  I did the ironing and was just pulling a few at a time from the closet.  Well, I got distracted and put the iron away before finishing, thus there were un-ironed clothes hanging in the closet.  Oh, the humanity!    I say that in jest as to me, any transgression is a transgression.  None are trivial to me as they all are things I commit to doing without fail (or at least without consequences when I fail).   

What iron related punishment could Mike come up with?  Branding is a hard limit, so no burning me with an iron!  A girls’ got limits!  But he immediately knew what he wanted to do.  

We have a couple of those hangers like they have in hotels – the hangers with those metal clips on them.  Well, he clipped them to my nipples – Like this (NSFW content).  Those clips are very tight, way more than clothespins, and they are a bit sharp.   The ends on ours have these grooves in them.  Ouchy ouchy!   I had to use our “yellow” safe word to have them removed for a bit, and eventually had to call “red” as I just couldn’t take anymore.  Oh, and similar to this picture, he had the end of the hanger tied to our ceiling fan such it pulled extra hard if I stood flat footed.

Yes, subjecting yourself to this type of punishment probably seems so absurd, but I love it!  I am a submissive wife who flourishes and feels complete when being accountable to my man.

POST SCRIPT
For most of my DD journey I would have described DD as a way of being accountable to myself, to my dreams and desires.  That’s why I refer to my blog as DD “Jenny Style.”  It is my own version of how domestic discipline helps me be the person, wife, and mother that I want to be.  It is about submitting on my terms, not Mike’s.  That is still a big part of my DD; however, slowly but surely those dreams and desires have become less specific about what I want, and more and more about simply serving Mike in the way he wants.

He has evolved as a Dom.  At first it was all about doing things in a way I specifically prescribed.  Now it is much more about doing things that he chooses for me to do and in the manner he prescribes.  I like that!  

It has been a smooth and natural progression that has worked well for me and for him. Perhaps I’ll explore that thought further on another post where I go on one of my esoteric rambles.  It’s been awhile since I’ve done any self-analyzing philosophical opining.  (Post 99. Be here now Slut in December, to be exact).   Humm, “self-analyzing philosophical opining.”   Nah, “esoteric ramble” has a better ring to it. 

NEXT: 127: About Compersion, Sex, and Change

 

 

 

 

70. What the Funk?

funk

I’ve never gone this long without posting (more than two weeks!)

There is too much to cover to share all the various goings on during the last two weeks, so I’ll just share one particular item that was profound in my DD journey.

I’ve shared numerous stories of my ever-increasing need for deeper submission (a common backdrop since the beginning, but definitely a theme starting in 46. Reflections and 47 Birth of Dom.)  Well, I believe I found the limits of the submission I desire. 

I fell into a bit of funk and even my sexual appetite was low.  Part of me thought it was simply that I’ve had a year and a half of almost constant stimulation, amazing sex with Mike, amazing sex with John and Donna, and my body finally couldn’t produce any more “spark.”   But the feeling lingered far too long for my liking.  More concerning to me was that I was feeling less than fully satisfied with my acts of submission.  I still submitted, but, in some cases there just wasn’t the same joy in it.

It was also odd that this “funk” came on in an instant, not slowly over time.   It was quite odd to me, like in a flash – all of a sudden I was looking at my DD journey from the outside, as if I was looking back at someone else’s experiences.  I was feeling how some of it just seemed ridiculous to this “outside” me.  It gave me a moment of doubt that perhaps this journey should end.  That thought didn’t last long, but it shocked me that I had the thought at all.   Ultimately I came to the conclusion that, no, I thoroughly enjoy being submissive, but, I needed to back off on some of the things we have implemented.

It strange how we interpret changes in our life.  In the past when I wanted to change to submit more, it always made me feel good.  In no way did I think it indicated a failure in what we were doing.  So why is it that now I wanted to submit less,  it made me bad, like it indicated a failure in what we were doing?

I’ve concluded that this inconsistency in my perception of change is much like any journey.  In a new adventure there is wonderment, amazement and excitement, not just in the moment, but for where the moment might take you.  Once you have reached the end of the journey, instead of being excited that you have done so, you are saddened that the journey is over.  As far as submission goes, I do believe I exceeded the limits of what I want, so my seeking the “right” level of submission for me is at an end, at least for now.

Let me share how this came about and what exactly it is we are changing.  It will probably be very anti-climactic when I tell you what is changing, but for me it isn’t about the number or degree of changes, it is simply that any change, however slight, marked the end of the journey (for now).

Before I ever hit this funk Mike and I had talked about the likelihood this would happen someday.  We knew we would not recognize the level of submission that worked best for us until we exceeded the threshold of what made us the happiest.  So I told Mike that I believe I was beyond that threshold.

I told him all I wanted to change was the constant nudity during the day, and the “Device Days” we implement three days a week (discussed in Post 57).   I told him for whatever reason, those have come to bother me.  They didn’t at first, but somehow got to a point where they seemed unnecessary, punitive, and just uncomfortable and inconvenient.    That was all I wanted to change.

The surprising thing was Mike said no!

He said he is all for dialing down my submission, but, he wasn’t convinced that is what I truly wanted.  He knows me so well.  He knows anytime I get in any type of funk or have doubts creep in about anything, my first instinct is to start changing things – any things.  Even though I gave this a lot of thought, he knows that sometimes for me making any change is simply a distraction and not an actual solution.  Thus it might provide a temporary lift out of my funk and feel like progress, but soon the funk would return as it didn’t really address the issue.  He said, “Let’s give it one more week, as is, and then see how you feel.”

I really didn’t want to wait, as I felt pretty certain about my feelings.  The old Jenny would have persisted until I got my way, but, this submissiveness has grown on me.   I felt that if this is what Mike wanted, then I could do for one more week, and who knows, maybe he would be right.

Funny thing, I really enjoyed that week more than I had in some time.  The thought that in essence Mike was making me do this against my explicit wishes actually turned me on.   That feeling I got confirmed in me how much I like to submit to him.  However, as the week came to a close I knew I couldn’t maintain doing those things I mentioned. Ultimately Mike agreed and we made some changes.

No more “device days” as a routine, but they still could occur as punishment.  And, I would remain topless during the day but could wear panties – it was really an issue of comfort for me. I get that doing uncomfortable things is part of submission, but for whatever reason, those two things just crossed the line.  Yes, spanking me until I cry is fine.  Yes, making me stand in the corner is fine.  Yes, calling you Sir is fine.  Yes, sometimes making me too sore to sit is fine . . . . but just please let me have my panties on.

And like that, the funk was lifted.   We are in an incredible routine with my submission.  I feel great, Mike feels great, our son is thriving, Mike and I have plenty of adult time, and things couldn’t be better.

Perhaps now I’ll share some of the more salacious and kinky things that went on over the last few weeks.  Mike did go out-of-town on business, allowing me to go solo over to John and Donna’s!  Perhaps that will be my next post?

Next:  71. Good Girl.