Tag Archives: punishment

333. Mike says tomato, I get in a pickle.

333

I discovered a new challenge with infrequent posts.  I enjoy writing in the moment as I often start a post as a way to think through a topic or experience.   It’s very cathartic and also probably why I tend to ramble.  It reflects the many thoughts that race through my head.  The problem is, things that are “post-worthy” are often long since resolved by the time I sit down to write.  I feel unmotivated to write about it.

There are a couple of things I want to share.  From a bit of a “relationship problem” we had that involved Chelsea, Jaime, and the three of us.  The short of it is, it is best not to keep secrets!  Maybe I will write about that next post.  It’s old news to me and long since reconciled.

Oh, I could write about Kim, TJ, and their kids visiting T & E’s farm and their partaking in the nudism.   Culture shock for them, and some interesting reactions.

Or, there’s this.  I could write about a spanking.

Relationship stuff, family meets nudism, or a spanking?

Why do I even ask?  I know what you pervs want.  Spanking it is.

THE TRANSGRESSION
This happened about a month ago.  Not that I haven’t received any punishments since then.  I felt this one was more blog-worthy as it was a bit different.

I was grocery shopping and Mike texted me to get “one large tomato where one slice can cover most of the bread, not those Romas, and get this too...”  and he attached a picture of this

I texted back that I would do so.   I was just getting ready to check out so I quickly went to pick up those items.  I didn’t want to mess with the plastic produce bags and pick out one tomato, so I grabbed a pre-packaged bag of 4.  They were the campari type… decent size, perhaps a tad smaller than a typical plum.  I then went to the condiment aisle and grabbed the first jar of bread & butter chip pickles and that was that.

When I got home and Mike inspected the haul, he said in his lecture voice,  “How come you didn’t follow my directions?” 

I explained that these were the larger tomatoes, just not the really large ones.

“Did I ask you for medium-sized tomato?”

“No, Sir.  You asked for a large one.”   I knew I was in for a spanking.

THE LECTURE
He questioned why I felt it necessary to get a pack of 4 medium-sized ones when he asked for one large one.  I didn’t have a good answer. 

“I thought…”  and he interrupted.

“So, now you’re thinking about what I might want in lieu of doing what I explicitly said I want.”

The tummy tingles started to really go wild!  I really love a stern lecture.  It makes me so humbled and tickles all my submissive spots. 

He added, “And the pickles?  Were they out of the brand I told you to get?”

“No, Sir.  I didn’t know you wanted that exact brand.  I just thought you…”  And again he interrupted.

Again with the thinking instead of the doing.  My instructions were clear and unambiguous.  If you ever need to deviate from instructions you know you are to inform me right away.  You didn’t even pay attention enough to know that you weren’t following my directions….”

And the lecture continued.  As it did I kept trying to deny myself the warm tingles that were aching for my attention.  There was no denying the wetness building between my legs.  It was difficult to concentrate on his words.  My mind kept trying to push the sexual energy aside.  I typically don’t like mixing my discipline with sex, but ever since we started with the stern lectures, his words ignite something in me.

My mind was screaming, “Please, just spank me now, spank me now.”  I don’t want the sexual energy to get any stronger and know a spanking will break the erotic spell of his lectures.   I bit my lip as the lecture continued and my heart raced faster.

“You think my wife would….”  and he continued admonishing me for disregarding his request.  

Those words always sting.  When he refers to me in a third-party way such as “my wife.”  I always feel like saying, “Yes, your wife would and your wife does.  She does!  She does so many things for you….” 

It’s those words that bring tears to my eyes.  So now I am fighting the tears and fighting the sexual energy, hoping my wetness doesn’t show itself to him.  I have this thing that if he sees me turned on it will betray the meaning I want for my discipline.   And while fighting the tears, the sexual energy, and the worry of betraying my DD, I also am dealing with the emotions of disappointing myself and him for being in a hurry and not thinking clearly in the store.  

THE SPANKING
Finally!   He tells me to put my elbows on the counter and stick my butt out.  He pulls the wooden spoon out of the kitchen drawer and spanks me.  (I am already naked as I disrobed after I brought the groceries in as is usual).  The sting helps release all the emotions that were building up in me.  I cry as he spanks me over and over at a rapid pace. 

He stops and lectures me some more, again generating the sexual response I get from his scoldings.  And while that response is not new, this time it is exceptionally strong.  I sense my body is betraying me and ignoring my attempts to squash the sexual pressure building up in me.  Before I can focus further he tells me to grab my ankles.  I comply and he spanks me again and again.

I then did something I rarely do, and only do when I am feeling the most humbled.  I started saying, “I’m Sorry, I’m Sorry!”   It’s our typical protocol that I don’t apologize like this as my remorse is assumed and my “redemption” is via the discipline and not an apology.  But sometimes the emotions take over and I blurt it out.  It’s okay when I do, it’s not like a rule or anything. But it is a sign that I’m experiencing a major “release.”   And this one is major, with lots of tears to go with it.

Mike adds, Sorry?  You think that makes you feel sorry?  Stand up and put your hands out.”   

He gives me three or four wacks on the palms with the wooden spoon.    He then lectures me some more.  As his razor-sharp words hit me hard, the sexual boiler in my body is ready to burst.   This time, instead of “I’m sorry,” I feel different words about ready to explode from my mouth.   My lips come together and a bite my lower lip, pushing some air out between my lips as I try to hold back.  

I tell myself in my head, “This is not what my discipline is about!”  But Mike keeps talking and I am at my breaking point.  I clench my lips to hold back the words, but I can’t keep it in any longer.

“Fff…”  and before I could complete the word, Mike says,

“Now, go stand in the corner until I call for you and while you do, this stays in your mouth.”  And he takes a tomato and sticks it in my mouth.”

He eventually calls for me and corner time is over.  All is forgiven.  The punishment is over.

POST PUNISHMENT VIBE
I had this strange feeling.  It was akin to a post-orgasmic feeling, but I hadn’t actually orgasmed.  And I wasn’t feeling any orgasmic aftershocks I often feel.  It was like a no orgasm orgasm, if that even makes sense.   And unlike after an actual orgasm, I could sense that the embers from the sexual energy were still burning.  Yeah, I am still a bit turned on.

My butt is sore from the strikes and my palms still tingle as the whacks on my palms were few but powerful.  It’s also clear to me my pussy still aches from his words.  About a half-hour after the punishment has ended I realize this ache is not subsiding.  I could initiate sex with Mike, but I have this feeling that I want to be in full control of the pace of things.  That is, I want this done fast and furious and with my luck, Mike will be in an Energizer Bunny mode.  Nope, can’t risk that.

Fortunately, I haven’t masturbated yet that week and I am required to do so at least three times a week.  I ask Mike for permission to masturbate and he grants it with the caveat that I do it right there.  (Boy, it sure is nice to have an empty nest!)

We are in the living room, so I masturbate something fierce and orgasm within minutes.

REFLECTION  (What’s a Jenny post without some reflection).

Not only would the pre-DD Jenny be appalled by this particular punishment, but even the Jenny of a year or two ago would have had major issues with that discipline.  But it is exactly the type of discipline and lecture I love and have asked for

As mean and abusive as that may make Mike sound, that punishment, like every punishment, is about what he feels I want and need based on the wants and needs I have expressed to him.  I know when he is saying those words it is part of a play.  It’s part of a role that he has agreed to take on.   It doesn’t reflect how much he values me as I know he values me tremendously.  It reflects his desire to be the person I want him to be at that moment. 

I want him to be stern, and yes, even mean.  I know that is not his nature.  Thus, when he lectures me HE is the selfless one, not me.    Sounds pretty twisted, I know.  But that’s the mindset of a submissive.

 Oh, and the words I was about to shout out at the top of my lungs before Mike sent me to the corner?    “Fuck me!”    Yep.

I was wanting it so badly!  And it is not like me.  For one, I don’t cuss much.  Not that an expletive doesn’t cross my lips now and then (and I’ve been punished when it happens).  And the other is I have made it a point not to mix sex with discipline.  It’s happened, but it is rare.  I accept there are many people who frequently mix the two, including Mike and Kayla.  It just isn’t my thing.  But I never wanted it so badly as I did during that particular punishment.

His lectures have always turned me on, but something about this one was really amazing.  Not sure why.   I shared all of this with Mike.  His response was that he would be sure NOT to have sex with me following a lecture NOR let me masturbate anytime soon thereafter.  “Consider it an extension of the punishment.”

Aha!  But we already said, “All is forgiven,” thus my punishment is officially over.  I shall appeal to the Odd (The Orgasm Denial Discipline committee, Ima Jillin presiding).  Ultimately I lost my appeal but Mike did re-purpose the denial of my release.  Instead of it being an extension of the punishment, he said it was to honor my desire to keep discipline separate from sex.

Maybe I need to rethink that desire?

Next: 334. One million thanks (okay, 1,000,353)

292. Kayla’s Triad Thursday Declaration

292

I’ve promised a return to sharing more kink.  Forget family time!  It’s time to appeal to more prurient interests.   Yeah, be honest, that is why you read a blog like this! 

Well, I guess I lied.  You’ll have to wait for one more post.  This one will be the set up for the sizzling and salacious, the depraved and degenerate, the indecent and impure, the. . . well, you get the picture.  It sets the stage for the “fun” stuff, in this case, a punishment.   Yeah, I am flipping the Jenny script and sharing the aftermath of a punishment, then I’ll share the details of the punishment on the next post.    

This isn’t even about a punishment I received, it is Kayla’s.  What?  “In three months of no posting you didn’t receive a single noteworthy spanking?”    Yep.  I mean, not that I wasn’t spanked, but nothing noteworthy.  Anything I share of the last two or three months would be indistinguishable from other posts about punishments.  I can’t motivate myself to write about something that is so derivative of prior posts.  So instead, I will write about Kayla.  What makes it noteworthy is that it marks an evolution in our relationship.   

CH-CH-CH-CHANGES
Like most relationship changes, they come slowly and as part of a change in someone. 
The “initiator” recognizes a need for change before the other person does.  The initiator often stays silent for some time as they first try to understand and reconcile what that change means for themselves.   Even once they do, they sometimes are unsure how to articulate exactly what this change is.  Then there is some trigger, a tipping point, and they verbalize this change.  

In this case, the tipping point involved a punishment Mike gave Kayla.  I’ll share the details in the next post, but basically, it surprised me.  Not in its severity – it was not severe. It was just very different. 

I’ve learned to trust Mike and not question or worry about Kayla in regards to her discipline.  In fact, it was exactly a year ago that I learned that lesson well re Post 201. Happy New (Severe Spanking) Year.  That lesson was about learning to approach my concerns from a point of curiosity and of seeking clarity.   This was especially important when it came to issues dealing with Kayla and my concern that Mike remain on point with providing the discipline she wants and needs.  

TRIAD THURSDAY – KAYLA’S DECLARATION
We’ve started calling our Thursday Maintenance sessions “Triad Thursday” since, about eight months ago, we turned this into a family meeting of sorts with me, Mike, and Kayla all coming together for Maintenance.   As Kayla’s punishment in question happened on a Thursday, I felt it was a great opportunity to find clarity and resolve my concerns. 

Kayla’s reaction to my inquiry surprised me.   She said something like, 

“Jen, this is a great example of something that’s been bothering me but I haven’t been able to put my finger on.  I know you love me and are only looking out for me, but that’s the thing, I don’t need you to be looking out for me that way.   At least, not when it comes to the things Sir says or does to me.  Even though your questions are respectful, it still hurts me to have you question his disciplining of me.   If you want to know how I feel about a punishment I received, you can ask me.  Don’t bring it to a Maintenance.  This is not a Maintenance issue.”

Followed by. . . 

 “I want to be treated more like a wife to both of you than a “lesser third in a TriadI don’t want you as a mother, I want you as a friend, a partner, a confidant, a lover.”

Wow.   Yep. Those were her words.  She said it didn’t come out exactly how she intended, but, that yeah, the essence of it is all in there.  It’s hard to hear someone say that.  Your mind just hears, “I don’t want you.”  Thus, my defenses were triggered, but fortunately, my defensiveness didn’t last long.  I credit my years of training as a counselor and my generous and empathetic heart.  Yep, it had absolutely nothing to do with the stern look and word my initial response got from Mike. 

Brushing aside my bruised ego, what quickly ensued was a meaningful dialogue between the three of us.  I’ll spare the blow-by-blow, but it was positive, constructive, and loving.  The short version is this — Our relationship with Kayla is two years old, and Kayla is now 24.   While she was always mature beyond her years, she has grown a lot in those two years.  And ” a lot” is an understatement.   Her needs have changed.  Not as it relates to her submission, but as it relates to me.   

I had given up on being a disciplinarian to Kayla some time ago.  Part due to my own needs as a submissive and part due to her no longer desiring it.   And when she first moved in with us I was very much a “helicopter girlfriend” as I was very concerned for her well being.   And while I didn’t do this nearly as much, I still hovered over her needs in a motherly sort of way.   She was declaring her independence from my motherly type concerns for her.   Good for her!   And because I have been prone to sarcasm, I’ll state that there was no sarcasm in that statement.  Only pride, joy and love.  

SECOND WIFE?
We have been using the term “second wife” for a while in describing Mike’s relationship with Kayla.  Mostly in jest, but there is a tinge of seriousness to it, as there often is in humor.  But we had never once used that word to describe her relationship with me.   But she was right.  What has been evolving, and what her declaration just formalized, is that indeed, our relationship has crossed over to be more of that of “spousal peers.”   That was the term I came up with and she said, “Yeah, that’s it, that’s what I am trying to articulate.”     

It isn’t that she didn’t appreciate how she was treated before — she loved how we have treated her and credits it with her tremendous growth as a person.  It is simply that her needs have changed, and she is looking to be treated in a way that is consistent with her current needs.     

She is no longer that young woman who wants or needs my protection.  She is simply that young woman who wants and needs my love.  I should not go to Mike when I have a concern about Kayla that I have not yet shared with Kayla.  That is no different than how Kayla has treated me since the beginning.

While “wife” has legal connotations, it also has a lot of emotional ones.  And Kayla expressed she wanted the mantle of that title, not just between her and Mike, but between me and her. . . albeit an informal, non-legally binding title.   And for her it isn’t about any of the legal rights bestowed on that title. She is not interested in any of that.  She is interested in the standing it gives her in our family dynamic regarding how she is treated by me and by Mike.  It was easy to grant her this and both Mike and I committed to treating her this way from now one, whole-heartedly.   

There were no ill feelings from our conversation.  I truly lost my defensive feelings very quickly.  In addition, Mike reminded me how important it was for me to be so involved in her discipline and be overly sensitive to her needs in the early days of the relationship.  Even if I wasn’t administering discipline, I was often providing feedback to Mike, and not just because I would easily give it, but because he would frequently seek it.   While Kayla credits Mike for how wonderful of a Dom he is for her, Mike was quick to remind her that it came with a lot of insights from me.   

With a little reflection, any bruised ego or defensiveness I felt was quickly replaced with positive feelings.  Kayla’s “declaration” is part of the success of her growth that I have played a part in.  Far from feeling defensive, I feel admiration, love, pride, and joy – both to and from Kayla.  

Now, I know most of you pervs are saying, “Finally, you made your point.  Now, just tell us what the hell Kayla did and how she was summarily punished for it!”   Next post!

Post.  Love is not Pie

247. Hey, my husband spanks me!

247

This is a continuation of my prior post… sort of.

This time I will get to some discipline experiences. 

But first, this little interlude. . . 

SYNCOPATHIC CACOPHONY
Here are things I’ve been punished for lately, sometimes in summary or detailed more greatly, but where it lacks the narrative of the swift hard whacks, I give you clear citations of the cold hard facts.  You can call me remiss for the skips of a hit of the paddle or swig of the piss, but there are times due to brevity I’ve got to use levity and enjoy the descriptions of my discipline prescriptions as I stop being so zany and start some explaining so no more hesitations. . . Read on.  And feel my sensations. 

Maybe the better word is cacaphony (uh oh, is caca a vulgar word? I hope not re #4 below). 

Here you go, with references to the section of the Contract that deals with my transgression.

TRANSGRESSION 1:  GROSS-ery DISREGARD FOR DRESS CODE

I was in the house and was not naked when required to be.

I got home with some groceries and they were in the back of the van so I couldn’t close the garage door until I had them groceries out.  This is important because I typically disrobe once I close the garage door and before I enter the house.  But since I needed to leave the garage door open, I leave my clothes on until the groceries are inside.  

I brought some groceries in and I wanted to get some of the stuff in the freezer right away.  There were still a few things in the car so I thought, “I’ll get these things put away, go get what’s in the car, then undress.”  I was putting away a few things and Kayla walked in and said she would get the last few things from the car.  Great.  I kept putting the groceries away as she brought the last items in she went back to whatever she was doing. .   I had them all put away and started on some other chores.  Maybe 10 minutes, maybe 15… Kayla walks back in and was like, “Hey, your clothed.”  Oops.  I disrobed immediately.  I had to tell on myself when Mike got home.

  • Violation of Section V.2.2.3 Attire
  • Discipline:  Mr. Creative, aka, Mike, had to defer my spanking until J was asleep that night.  He told me to get dressed as if I was going shopping and follow him out to the car (parked in our garage).  He was carrying a paddle and directed me to lay face down in the back seat and pull my skirt up and panties down.  He positioned himself in the front so that he could reach over to the back and spank me.  He gave me about 10 warm ups, and then 10 harder ones.  He then told me to pull up my panties, and follow him inside and I was to disrobe at the door.

    Once in the kitchen he directed me to take a couple of things out of the fridge and pantry and put them on the counter.  He had me bend over, hands on the counter, staring at the items – 10 swats, hard of course.  Then he had me put the food back where it belonged.

    And then we repeated.  Got dressed, went to the car, 10 swats, disrobed, back inside, put some food out on the counter, 10 swats, put the food back, and repeat a third and final time.  So 60 swats total.  Then he gave me 30 minutes of corner time in the kitchen before concluding with our closing ceremony.    

TRANSGRESSION:  MANTRA MISS
Twice over the last month I’ve messed up our mantra rule.  Before explaining the misstep, I want to add that I really love the mantras, way more than I thought.  I liked the idea from the beginning, but thought I would tire of it.  Perhaps I will, but it has been 6 months and I still love it.  It is an awesome way to start and end every day. 

One time I was in bed reading while Mike was busy at the computer and I fell asleep.  Mike didn’t wake me when he got to bed.  It is my responsibility to seek him out if I am going to bed and think I may fall asleep before he gets there.

Another time I said the mantra, which is the last thing I am to speak before going to bed, and then Mike asked me something that I answered.  It happens, and I simply repeat the mantra again.  There are times I’ve had to say it over and over as something will come up requiring me to speak.  No big deal, it happens.  But this time I failed to do that and went to sleep without reciting it again.  To be fair, I was basically asleep when Mike asked me something, so while I answered it half-awake, I quickly fell back asleep after answering him.  My brain couldn’t process that I needed to repeat the mantra.

  • Violation of Section V.2.1.5 Mantras
  • Discipline:
    It’s very discombobulating to be awaken by a spanking.  For one of these punishments, I happened to be asleep on my tummy, so Mike simply pulled back the covers and I awoke to spanks on my buttocks.  For another, I happened to be on my side.  Being the devious creative Dom that he is, he got a clothespin and clipped it to my nipple.  I didn’t wake up so he started pulling on it and clipping and unclipping it.  I woke in a dazed “WTF?” kind of state (I didn’t actually say those words).  Before I fully got my bearings he moved me over on my stomach and began spanking me.  I didn’t comprehend why as it was hard to think from both the surprise of the spanking and the grogginess of the sleep.  As this wasn’t the first time I have been awakened this way, the reasons for the spanking eventually dawned on me as the spanking progressed. 
    Spankings give me a rush of adrenaline, making it hard to go right back to sleep.  Mike remedied that.  “Now, sit down and write out the mantra 50 times.”  Yeah, that took care of the adrenaline.

TRANSGRESSION:  STRIKE WHILE THE IRONS…um, COLD?
I iron my husbands clothes.  Not just his work shirts, but his t-shirts, slacks, and shorts.  The only thing I don’t iron are his underwear and socks – I am a feminist after all!   lol.

Ironing is likely the biggest icon of the classic 1950’s misogynistic acts of service expected of housewives.  It’s funny, but my lunch bunch friends are more shocked that I iron my husbands clothes than they are that I share my husband with another woman.  Ironing evokes that strong of reaction in many women!

I enjoy it.  I love to have everything turned off so it is quiet, and just enough light so I can see what I am doing.  It is semi-meditative for me.  Working with my hands to make something nice looking and comfortable for Mike that will also be against his skin. It’s like a part of me is always touching him.  Yummy, I even like thinking about it. 

Well, maybe I had it too dark one day when I ironed, as Mike noticed a large crease in one of his shirts.  He simply pointed it out and reminded me to pay attention.  He does give me reminders sometimes versus going right to a punishment.  He then got to looking and found a few other less than perfect shirts.  “Bad day ironing, huh?  I’ll let it go, but you have to do better.”

His statement is something worth noting as it shows the evolution of our DD.   Early on in DD I would been upset over him telling me to “do better.”  Regardless his tone of voice, it sounds a bit condescending.  But now it is that sort of blunt commentary that I love.  To me, comments like that are more dominating than a spank on the butt.  And I love it when Mike shows his dominance.  It also shows I have indeed gone from DD that is mine to DD that is for me.   

At that point I avoided being disciplined, other than verbally, when he happens to notice issues with several other shirts.  Oh shirt!  Let the spanking commence.

  • Violation of Section V.2.1.4 Homemaker
  • Discipline:  Mike’s creativity was challenged since obviously branding me with the iron is a hard limit.  He gave me 10 warm ups with a paddle, then took a plastic hanger (no wire hangers!!) and tried swatting me with it.  It hurt a little bit but then it broke.  I guess they aren’t spanko tested.  He went into the closet and way in the back in the furthest corner, there was a single wire hanger.  He twisted it apart, got in into a loop, and spanked me maybe a dozen times.  It really stung but less than I thought it was going to.
  • Sensing it didn’t quite have the desired effect, he went back into the closet and came out with the iron.  He created a loop with the cord and spanked me maybe another 10 times, very hard.  Those definitely got my attention.  He has only used cords a few times and I knew it was going to hurt and going to leave some marks.  Suffice to say I now keep more lights on when I iron. Oh, and Mike told me to buy a couple of wire hangers so we can have them, just in case. 

TRANSGRESSION:  WELL &%!* TO THAT!
For someone who rarely cusses, I think this is maybe only the fourth or fifth time being disciplined for doing so.  It was never a major habit of mine, and when I have, it is usually to make light of a situation.  You know, humor!

Humor or not, it’s still cussing.  As Mike reminded me, our agreement states, “any cussing by Jennifer for any reason at any time will be deemed a failure to properly express her feelings.”  I guess I blew it when negotiating that part, because come on, sometimes it is an effective way to express something.  Oh well, our next renegotiation is a year from now, so only 12 months until I can let the expletives fly.  Ha.

By the way – a small loophole.  I can use a cuss word if I am sharing what someone else said and what they said included a cuss word.  As such, I am not expressing my feelings, but theirs.  Another caveat is if I Mike’s permission, such as here, where he gave me permission to repeat the word that earned me this punishment.

Mike took exception to my use of the word “fucking” in a recent post. I used it for humor (Post 242) so thought it would be okay. I thought wrong.

  • Violation of Section V.3.2.1 Feelings
  • Discipline:  His go-to disciplining routine for verbal related discretion is a mouth soaping.  He really lathered this one up a lot. All over my tongue and lips, and I had to bite down so there are teeth marks in the soap.  It was followed with the traditional rinsing using his pee, and after a few rinses, I had to drink the remaining pee.  He then said that since I think cussing is funny for its “shock” value, he pulled out the OH DIOS MIO (violet wand)He has only used this a few times, shocking me on my butt or breasts or on my sides. This time he had me stick out my tongue and said I was getting five shocks.  They did hurt, but as in “shock” type hurt.  The pain doesn’t last long.  But knowing that initial shock is about to hit makes it more of a psychological disciplining than physical.  Your mind is just anticipate this awful powerful shock.  It hurts, but not as much as your mind tells you it is going to hurt – and it is that anticipation that makes this such an effective discipline.

REFLECTION
There’s a few others I could share, but I think that paints a good picture.  Keep in mind these occurred over the last three months, so it really isn’t that many.  I haven’t been disciplined a lot lately – and I am not complaining.  The spankings I get at Maintenance are plenty for helping maintain my submissive mindset. 

The “today” Jenny is satisfied just ending this post here — let the punishments stand for whatever you think they stand for.  I know what they mean to me and I accept them and love that I have a relationship that allows for my husband to address my behaviors.

However, for the benefit of some readers who struggle with my acceptance of being treated this way, I will write a bit more (A bit? Since when do I ever right “a bit” more about anything?).   

SHOULD I BE PUNISHED FOR SUCH TRIVIAL THINGS?
Yes.

See, I told you it would just be a bit more

Next: 248. Secret Ingredients Revealed

219. I am Angry (and that’s okay)

219

Last night Mike told me I can not attend the Super Bowl party.  I am to use this time alone, while they are having fun, to do “all I want” online.   All the other restrictions remain in place until further notice and my internet restrictions will resume once they get back from the party.  I am not happy.  I am angry.

I didn’t sleep well.  I journaled until lights out, trying my best to get out all my jumbled rage.  Even with the lights out I let the rage play out in my head as I tossed and turned.  My mind was focused on how terrible it was for Mike to keep me from the party.   I am glad I get to finally type this out.  Writing always helps.

I rewrote this post many times.  Each rendition became less angry.  Writing is wonderful that way.  It’s good to vent, even just in writing.  However, I want to give you a glimpse into where I started emotionally.  I am neither defending or apologizing for these feelings.  They simply represent what was going on in my heart.   

While you will see I made progress in reconciling my anger, the healing process is just that – a process.  The acute, sharp pain is gone, but remnants remain.  I can sense they are slowly fading, but, they are not gone.  

I put this into two posts –  on on my anger, and one on my healing.

ANGER
When Mike told me the news, I managed to give a less-than-heartfelt, “Yes, Sir.”  I couldn’t even make eye contact with Mike when I said it.  Too many emotions bubbling.  

It isn’t that I am a football fan – it is about the social aspect.  We have so much fun!  I have so much fun! And the sex is fun!   And it is tradition – Mike and I were doing this long before DD, before John and Donna – all the way back to when we were first dating.  We hang out together for the Super Bowl.  It’s what we do and have done for over 25 years.  MIKE AND I ALWAYS DO IT TOGETHER.

I’ve been so good all week.  I was expecting Mike to tell me he was ending the restrictions and I was anticipating a day of fun together.   Instead, I can’t go to the party AND all the restrictions are staying in place (except for being able to go online while they are at the party).  Hrumpf!!! 

I was glad to have our Sunday Maintenance session before they left for the party.   They left for the party around 1:00 – yeah, it is a long and fun party.  Of course, because I am so lucky, I get to have my Maintenance before they go to have their fun. Yea, me! (That wasn’t too subtle with the sarcasm was it?  I hope not). 

I got all the catch up spankings that were “banked.”  Three separate sets of spankings for various misbehavior, and 28 spankings for errors he found in the 700 lines I wrote over the course of the week.  I was so anxious to speak that despite an awful lot of spankings and a very sore bottom, the discomfort didn’t even register in my mind.  Finally,  I get to speak!

I did my best to plan my words in advance – humble, respectful, and calm.  But in the moment, adrenaline kicks in (or is that anger?).  Despite my best efforts, anger is hard to hide.  Not only was Mike unmoved, but after one warning, I was spanked for the tone I was using.  On the third offense, he gave me lines.  I think he gave me the lines instead of another spanking because I actually made him angry.  He was aware enough to not spank me in anger.  Not that the lines won’t mean more spanking later, but, at least he will be calm.

I know he purposely left me my internet time today to serve as further punishment.  It isn’t lost on me that while they are partying it up, I am spending time doing the very things that got me on restriction to begin with.   Part of me wants to show him by not even logging on.  But, he did say, “you will use this time to do what you want online.”  It wasn’t a suggestion.  Plus the writing always helps me vent.    

I have never felt so upset over my discipline.  I don’t agree with it, I feel it is excessive, he is treating me like a child.  I am so good to him.  I have accepted all the restrictions without complaint.  I deserve to go to the party.   Just spank me and get over it.  I am not a child. 

NOT A CHILD!
I get the irony.  Spanking me somehow isn’t treating me like a child, but not allowing me to go to a party is?   Well, bite me!   Yes, Mike spanks me, disciplines me in other ways, scolds me, instructs me, etc.  I concede they are consistent with describing a parental authority figure.  There is no explaining or convincing anyone – you just have to be someone who is fulfilled by being submissive to understand it.  This particular course of discipline has me feeling like I am being treated like a child.

IF NOT A CHILD, STOP BEHAVING LIKE ONE
I admit it!  I am sure at least one of you out there was already thinking it.  My feelings match my behavior and thinking.  I am behaving and thinking like a child.  I am upset because I am not getting what I want!   There, I said it.  Is that so bad?  I want to be there.  

SUBMISSION FAILING ME
I want to behave the right way, I want to accept this the right way, I want to submit to his decision — even if it is uncomfortable to do so.  That is what submission is.  blah blah blah.  Sorry, I feel what I feel and currently my feelings goes beyond being uncomfortable.  I am mad!

Disagreeing with Mike feels awful, like I am undermining my submission.  It’s like I can feel my emotions are betraying my devotion to Mike, but I can’t stop them.  I am still mad and I still feel I should be at the party!

It disturbs me that I am upset with Mike for “doing this to me,” and it disturbs me that my heart, my attitude, and my commitment towards submission isn’t helping me deal with this difficulty.    I am disturbed because I know that isn’t the “right way” to feel, but screw it, that’s how I feel.

Take a breath — remind myself that anger isn’t an emotion.  Anger covers up emotions.  So, what is it that I am feeling that is triggering the anger?

JEALOUSY?
I am not jealous of Kayla. I am happy she gets to attend. I know she looked forward to it, not just the social aspect of course, but the sexual exploration.  Three men!  I do wish I could be there for that.  I trust Mike, as does Kayla, but it would be prudent to have another set of eyes and ears focused on how Kayla was doing – namely, MY eyes and ears.  See, it isn’t just for me that I should be there.  It would benefit Kayla!

I do feel jealous of Mike!  This is very odd for me and it surprises me.  I don’t like this feeling, but it is there none-the-less.  Why does HE get to attend and I don’t?  Why does he get to enjoy our annual day of fun and I don’t?

As I think more about it, I do feel jealousy towards Mike, Kayla, John and Donna.  Why do people I love get to have such fun and new experiences without me when I am supposed to be there and deserve to be there?

ISOLATION?
I’ve had a week of feeling isolated.  Sure, physically I’ve been home and others have been around.  But the restrictions served to isolate me.  I feel like there will be this constant reminder of missing this party.  All of them are sure to talk of it and share their stories.  I don’t want to relive missing out on it by hearing their stories.   There will be the inevitable, “Hey Jen, remember that Super Bowl  when…”  and then it will be like, “Oh yeah, you weren’t there.”   

I’ve been crying since they left, wallowing in my misery!  And yes, I fully identify with the feeling of isolation right now.

NOT WORTHY? 
It’s like Mike pushed me aside and doesn’t want me to enjoy what is our traditional and expected day and evening of fun.  He will throw that tradition away for what?  To make a point about my behavior?

I try to remind myself that submitting to Mike’s discipline has been a good thing.  Pre-DD, if there was something I disagreed with this strongly, believe me, it would have meant yelling and screaming – days, if not weeks of resentment.  Now THAT was childish.  Not only did that mean lots of emotional anguish, but it was often very hard to fully heal from those types of arguments.

Ah!  To heal.  That’s a great word. 

Maybe it’s time to focus on that.  Time to try and focus on healing my misery.  

I ask myself a simple question regarding my anger. Can submission lead me to find healing?” 

Next:  220. I am Healing: Truth about Discipline

218. Other forms of discipline: Restrictions

Hello again.  Mike gave me some internet time this morning.  It is the lesser of an hour or whenever J wakes up.  Thus I got an early start in hopes of getting all of this done before he wakes.

This is the first time I’ve been online since my last post.   Well, that’s not true.  Oops!

As I shared, part of my punishment is that, starting Monday (five days ago),  I could not go online.  Well, to show just how deep I had fallen into my obsession, I cheated the very first day!

Mike allowed me to have my phone when I went to the store.  What could it hurt to take a  quick peek at my comments on my blog?  A peek led to reading more, then liking this one, liking that one. . . oh, what about the reader?  Down the rabbit hole!   I soon felt guilty (not soon enough) and got off my phone.  Of course, I told on myself as I can’t keep such things secret.

I was prepared for a good spanking.  Instead, Mike surprised me.  He put me on restriction – that is, he revoked a variety (okay, A LOT!) of privileges.  He’s rarely done this before, and restrictions typically lasted the rest of the day or at most 24 hours.  This time they are “at least for a week, perhaps longer.”  (they started  the evening of Jan 28).

RESTRICTIONS

  1. Phone and laptop taken away. 
    He carries my phone with him and he took my laptop to his office and is keeping it there.  I am even forbidden from inquiring with him as to who may have called or texted.  He will let me know if something needs my immediate response.    
  2. Sleep in Kayla’s bed at night.
    I am sleeping in Kayla’s room while Kayla sleeps in my bed with Mike.  This is not unheard of, but not for this many days!  
  3. Refrain from sexual activity.
    Of any kind, with anyone, including myself.  I haven’t gone a week without sex in at least three years, maybe more.
  4. No Thursday Maintenance
    If that sounds like a bonus, it isn’t.  I love my maintenance sessions.
  5. “Banked” Discipline until Sunday Maintenance. 
    In other words, no spankings until Sunday.   Sound good?  Nope!  Read #6.  This is one withdrawal from the bank that I don’t look forward to!    hee-hee
  6. Doubly Triply-strict.
    Mike expects, “perfection” from me this week.  As of this writing I have three Transgressions “banked” for tomorrow.  Not bad considering the “perfection” expectation.  But 3 punishments back-to-back-to-back?  Yikes! (plus #7)
  7. Write 100 lines per day.
    New phrase each day.  Lines are critiqued by Mike with two spankings per errors/sloppiness (also “banked” per #5).  Mike has critiqued the ones I’ve done thus far, but hasn’t told me my grade.  I was extremely careful and took my time since there was no time limit on getting them done – and it wasn’t like I had other pressing engagements for “me” time.  (got to keep the humor up!)
  8. Any remaining “me” time is spent in Kayla’s bedroom reading.
    No television, no iPod, nothing.  And when I do have the opportunity to relax I must go to Kayla’s room to read.  Mike doesn’t even want me to lay on our bed or sit in our room.     
  9. No social visits to/from anyone.
    Canceled lunch with my sisters that we had planned, and rescheduled my last “Etiquette” consultation. 
  10. Must remain clothed all day.
    You’d have to be submissive and accustomed to being naked a lot to understand how this is a punishment.  Believe me, it is!
  11. Early bedtime. 
    I get ready for bed as soon as the kitchen is cleaned after dinner – not so much as a “goodnight” from anyone.  I close the bathroom door when bathing (which is not usual), and I put on pajamas before emerging (also not the norm).  I can’t even sleep naked!  I can read and/or journal (or work on #12) until 9:30, but then it is lights out.  If I wake up early, I stay quietly in bed until our normal wake up time. This may sound like a holiday, and while the extra rest is nice, it all feels very isolating.  
  12.  Hand write my weekly research paper.
    Still have to keep with this
    quarter’s goal. Mike printed out several articles on this weeks’ topic since I couldn’t search it myself.  I have to hand write out my report, neatly and double spaced.  The reports are subject to Mike’s critique and shortcomings could result in punishment.  I’ll post about these reports eventually.    
  13.  Restricted from Super Bowl Sinday?
    Mike is undecided as to whether or not I will be allowed to attend.  NO!!!!!  I really want to go.

This hour of internet time today is nice – some “time off for good behavior!”  I am hopeful I get off restriction tomorrow and attend the festivities.  I can sure use a party after a week of feeling isolated and to some degree, bored.      

INTERNET WITHDRAWALS
Not having my phone caused actual withdrawals.  Anxiety and anxiousness abound!  It wasn’t until around Thursday that it seemed like I finally got over it.  I still have a sense of curiosity,  but it isn’t the same painful yearning I first had.  However, those withdrawals were replaced by orgasm withdrawals.  HA!  Actually, not very “ha.”  I am serious.  I am very horny.   Several years of averaging more than one orgasm a day and then cold turkey for a week is a lot of adjustment for my body.   I need oxytocin and all those other feel good endorphins released by sex!  By the way, you know studies show that your brain releases a bit of oxytocin and those other feel good endorphins when you get a “like” on a social media post.  Sure, not the same as sex, but still, just a little tingle for your body to enjo
y. So, give this a “like” and you will be helping me get aroused! Ha!

I will say that losing connection with the internet world was initially disturbing to be, but eventually became peaceful.  Initially a lot of anxiety,  but then calming.  Simply put, the feelings have been weird and remarkable.  I recommend everyone take an occasional internet sabbatical!

SPANKING HIATUS!
My chores and adhering to my rules help keep my submissive mindset, but honestly, having punishments deferred and not having the Thursday Maintenance has left me yearning.  To satisfy it, 
I have gone above and beyond my normal duties to serve Mike this week.  While not perfect, I have been doubly attentive to him and extremely focused on every task.

The results of my punishment?  Well, it has been painful and I can’t wait for it to be over.  I never want to face these restrictions again and will remain diligent with my time.  Aha!  So this discipline is serving its job as being a deterrent and providing me focus to not repeat my misbehavior.  I guess that makes it effective and appropriate — but I still don’t like it! 

HARDEST PARTS
The worst is the nighttime isolation.  Being clothed and not even being seen naked, not having any down time in the evening with Mike and/or Kayla,  having to sleep by myself — It’s a lonely experience, but loneliness can be, and has been, a healing penance. 

The no sex has been tough, especially hearing Mike and Kayla go at it at night.    In some ways hearing them feeds my submissive mindset as it is a very submissive thing for me to accept.  But still, abstinence doesn’t suit me, and having to hear them makes it even more difficult.     

Wearing clothes all day has been tougher than I thought it would be.  I really enjoy being naked.  It reminds me of a story I’ll have to share on a future post of my lack of modesty when I was a little girl.  Another time!   Simply put, I like being naked, more than just from a submissive standpoint.

Being clothed has been even more difficult on days Kayla is home – she remains naked.    Normally, it doesn’t even dawn on me that she (or I) is naked – it has become that  normalized for us. It serves as a reminder to me that I am “different” right now.
This week, I couldn’t stop staring at her.  I even apologized to her if I was “creeping her out” with my stares (she just laughed and said “no.”).   As I started my mind would long to be naked, to be submissive.  

The potential of not being part of the Super Bowl festivities is a severe punishment all by itself.  It is a lot of fun and it will be interesting to have Matt there.  We always have a blast, even pre-DD days, but of course, a mega-blast since then.  It is an excuse we use to be crazy, silly, and adventurous. . .because. . . you know. . .our life outside of this is just so vanilla and boring.  HA!   (Have you noticed I often use humor to cope with a negative situation?  You haven’t?  What are you, new?).  I admit it will hurt if I can’t go.  My fingers are crossed! 

REFLECTION
This punishment isn’t just about
what I did.  It is also about failing to heed Mikes warning and then, even worse, failing to follow his instructions regarding the initial restrictions he imposed.   And it deals with a subject that, at it’s core, is one of those things that caused major problems pre-DD.  From the start of our DD, I specifically identified this as something I wanted to improve about myself as it was a major impediment to my ability to be the wife and mother I wanted to be.

My pre-DD “vices” can be summed up as spending unwisely –money and time.  Add in that I was often controlling, demanding, stubborn and unforgiving.  I never want to go back to that Jenny again. 

I would have preferred a spanking, even a very harsh one, instead of these restrictions.

NOURISHMENT
This week, any time I felt a yearning for submission growing in me, I simply focused on one thought to quickly nourish my submissive mindset — 
Submission isn’t about my preferences.

And with that, my internet time is up!

Next: 219. I am Angry (and that’s okay)

211. Eek! Dom Fail!

Eek

I often follow a “punishment” related post with one of reflection.  Writing helps clear my mind of various thoughts following an intense punishment.  This time I don’t feel the need for it.  I accept it, I earned it, I am influenced by it, I am uplifted by it, and I am fulfilled by it.  It is aligned with my desires to be compliant with the commitments I have made to myself and Mike — he can do no wrong in my mind when it comes to his disciplining me.

Or can he? 

THE LUNCH BUNCH
I have a “lunch bunch” group of girlfriends that get together now and then, yes, typically for lunch.  (I posted about them before and about inappropriately revealing certain TTWD’s to them that earned me a punishment).  We are more connected via social media than in person, but we try to get together every now and then.  I missed the last couple of gatherings – schedule conflict or maybe I was sick one of the times.  Whatever, I am overdue for attending one of these. 

MIKE SAYS NO, and a bit more
Early last week I got a text about getting together for lunch later this week.  My calendar is clear and I know I can get my chores done and still attend.  As per my rules, I ask Mike for permission.

“No, you may not go.”

He gives no explanation and adds, “I want you to text back these words exactly, “Mike said I can’t attend this time.  Maybe the next one.”

Despite my surprise in hearing ‘no,’ my submissive reflexes are quick and I respond with a clear, “Yes, Sir.” I waste no time and get my phone.  Send!  Shortly thereafter I get a text back saying, “Hope to see you next time,” along with the “eek” emoji.  That’s the emoji face with the grimace showing it’s teeth.  

“Sir, did I fail to put something on my calendar, I show I was free at that time?”

“No, there isn’t anything I am aware of that you need to do.”

I accept his answer.  I enjoy these lunches but I enjoy submitting to Mike even more.  If he has something in mind such that he doesn’t want me to attend, so be it.  I addressed my concern regarding my calendar because failing to keep it accurate could result in a spanking.  I was curious as to why the text, but I tuck that wonderment away for a question to be asked at our next Maintenance Session.   

REFLECTION
As I journaled that night, I am hit by the magnitude of how I handled myself.  Not only do I not desire an explanation from Mike, but I don’t even try to ponder what his reasons might be.  This is huge for me!  Like, gargantuan for me!  A major event!  And it really vibrates my submissive tickle-spot to have him display this control over me.  I am not embarrassed by what I texted – I am excited!  Excited for the opportunity to explain it to her, excited to have shown Mike my love, trust, and confidence in him to obey without questioning why he said no.  I do not care why.  I am fulfilled in following his wishes.

ASKING THE QUESTION 
At our Sunday Maintenance I ask, “Sir, I have a question about the text you had me send regarding the lunch with my friends. May I ask it”

We have this routine where I basically ask permission to ask a question about a particular topic.  It’s not a specific rule, but it is in keeping with being respectful while still sharing any concerns I have.  I don’t believe he has ever told me he would not explain something when I have ask in this manner.  

“Ask away.”

“Sir, is there a particular way you recommend I handle questions she and others are certainly going to ask me.  I know she is going to tell everyone what I texted her.”

I am asked if I am bothered by this.  “No, Sir, I am excited by it.  I want to make sure I understand what I am permitted to say to her and the others.”  As per our rules, I am not to share aspects of TTWD without Mike’s permission.

PUBLIC DISPLAYS OF SUBMISSION
Since October we have been much more public in displaying our D/s.   We have talked a little bit about it with our children and other extended family members — simply that I chose to let Mike “take over the reigns” so to speak, and defer more to him.  I was “tired of being in command.”  They totally accepted it as they know I was the “do everything” mom for a long time.

I think the nonchalant manner in which we explained (very little) things  helped contribute to a response that was basically, “Meh.”   That, and, well, I think most people just don’t want to know the details.  The one area that had a little more of reaction was my calling him “Sir.”  I told my kids I’ve committed to treating dad more nicely and respectfully, thus the “Sir.”   They did see that as a bit odd, but also accepted it.   Oh, back to my Maintenance Session.

BACK TO THE MAINTENANCE SESSION, ALREADY IN PROGRESS
Mike tells me he trusts in whatever I decide to share, with one condition.  He wants my responses to not reveal any more than is necessary to answer the specific question.  Thus, a simple, “Yes” or “No,” to most questions.  If they pry, then explain as necessary to answer their specific question.  I am told there is no need to lie about anything – be truthful, but show discretion. 

I thank Mike for the information and we talk a bit more about what it means to be more open with our submission.  We are “calibrated” on this subject.   

Mike asks, “Don’t you have another question?”  “No, Sir.”

His eyes open wide in amazement, “Nothing?”  Again I reply, “No, Sir,” and I add,  “I only wanted to make sure my response to them is acceptable to you.  That’s it.”

“Wow,” he says with an impressed look.  “Okay then.  I was waiting for you to ask me why I wouldn’t let you go.  Don’t you want to know?”

“Sir, I am not curious in the way curious implies an eagerness or a doubt.  I wrote it all down in my journal.”  I show him.  I wrote, “I am not curious from the standpoint curious implies eager.  I am not eager to know.  I have no wonder or doubts.  There is no anxiety or yearning.  But, I am curious from the standpoint it was unexpected, a surprising answer.  He hasn’t said ‘no’ before.  But other than the unexpected nature of it, I have no curiosity.  It is what he wants, that is more than sufficient.”   

Mike questions me, clearly needing convincing of my sincerity.  Normally I would be troubled by this, but I understood why – I’ve questioned and doubted his reasoning before, so why not now?   He was finding my response equally “curious.”   Instead of simply telling me why or moving on to another subject, Mike asks me what I think his reasons might be. 

“Sir, I haven’t thought about it, but doing so now, perhaps it was part of the “reset,” perhaps there is still something you want of me that you will reveal in time, or perhaps you are just comforted by my submitting to you.  Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter to me unless you want me to know.” 

 I was not saying this for the sake of appearing submissive.  It is truly my mindset.  I don’t seek any reason other than I desire to serve him.  It feels really good to feel this way.  Amazingly good.  Again, my submissive tickle spot is vibrating like crazy!   Submissive bliss inside my giant submissive bliss-filled bubble.  

“Well,” Mike says sheepishly, “I wish I could say any one of those was my reason.  But to be honest, I am sorry to say it wasn’t for anything as nice as that.”

“Pop!”  I could feel my bubble burst. 

DOM FAIL
I am bewildered as he remains silent.  “Sir?  Mike?  Are you going to explain?”

“Well, you see. . . in the moment you asked, there was just something that told me to say “no.”  So I said it.  My next thought was that I was reminded of your disobedience when you had your last lunch and told them those things about us.  Something just clicked in my head to think you shouldn’t be allowed to see them this one time as punishment.”

I recognized my submissive reflexes turned themselves off. I take in a deep breath and remind myself to “Think loving intentions.  Be respectful.  Stay calm.”  

“Sir, I am sorry too, but that really bothers me.  Any discipline I receive is to be over once you say it is over.  And we had a closing ceremony and all was forgiven.  That’s why we say those words.  ‘All is forgiven’ is to mark the end so that it can also mark a new beginning, no lingering resentments.”   There, I was calm.   But then, snidely I add, “That was like a YEAR ago!” (Hey, I was almost perfect in my response.  Remember, progress, not perfection!).

“Jen, let’s not make this about your submission.  Please don’t raise your voice.  Yes, I screwed up.  I am sorry.  I didn’t think it through and just reacted.  When I first said ‘no’ I really didn’t even know why.  It was only in the seconds afterwards that I connected it to that reason.  To be honest, I didn’t think of it as additional punishment, even though you are right, it is.  Had I thought about it that way I would have changed my mind.  It really was out-of-bounds.  I am sorry.”

With that, I felt my submissive bubble starting to fill back up.  I thought of the several “submissive fails” that I have had over the last three years.  This was the first time Mike made a decision that was contrary to any “rule” we have.   And the way he owned up to it – oh my God, it was so sincere.  Not in just the words, but I could tell he was disappointed in himself.  This was not about some plot to get me.  (Something pre-DD Jenny would think). It was an honest mistake. 

I was quiet for about ten seconds and Mike asks, “What are you thinking?”

Very slowly and deliberately I say, “I am thinking. . . ”  insert dramatic pause, all is forgiven.”  And I hug him!

N.B. What about Lunch?
What is N.B.?  It’s like a P.S., and stands for Nota Bene.  It sounds so much fancier and pretentious than P.S., and of course, you know DDJennifer is all about being hoity-toity.  Yeah, right!  lol.  I digress.

So do I get to go to lunch?  Well, Mike does end up asking me if I want to go.  In 100% submission mindset I say, “Sir, if it helps you with closure on my disobedience from last year, I do not want to go.  Otherwise, yes, I would like to attend.”

With that, I am prepared to face a lot of questions at lunch later this week! (Weather permitting, we are in a bit of a deep freeze in South Texas). 

Next:  212.  Another Weigh I am Submissive

201. Happy New (Severe Spanking) Year

2018

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.

OBEDIENCE FAIL
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. . . 

WRITING LINES
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?”

“Yes, Sir”

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.  

THE EXPLANATION
“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 ‘butin 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!

NEXT:  Post 202. A Weighty Subject (of Fairness)