217. Domestic Discipline 1, Self Discipline 0

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

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

133. Intense Punishment

Laying in bed the other day, sore nipples and butt, with a lingering soapy taste in my mouth, I had the “WAID” thought.  The thought of “What Am I Doing?”   I’ve had this thought a few times.   I believe occasional doubt is healthy.  Doubt is simply a lack of knowledge.   Often this is momentary, and the knowledge can be found in a short conversation with yourself.  Other times it may take a bit more than a moment of reflection, but for me, any doubts about DD have always been self affirming regarding my choice to live this lifestyle.   My doubts have always led to a deeper appreciation for what DD has done for me and my family.   WAID never lasts more than a few minutes, and it was no different this time.

The punishments I was reflecting on were from that day and the day before.  Part of my “Rewards” for what my actions that I shared in the prior post.

I’ve shared a couple of the more severe punishments I’ve received, and there haven’t been many.  Although I didn’t use my safe word, this punishment topped any I had before, even the one I shared in 24. Intense Spanking , although I didn’t er had to use a safe word this time.  As our son J is home, the punishments were done throughout the day while he was at school or in the evening after he was asleep.

As I think about it, this one wasn’t the worst in terms of pain.  It was the worst in terms of overall discomfort.  In some ways, lingering discomfort or anticipation of what is to come is worst than a moment of acute pain.

I am not that good at sharing punishment stories.  It isn’t my “thing.”  I’d much rather be waxing philosophical about events in my life than sharing the specific details.   (you can find my favorite “waxing philosophical” posts in my Shortcuts).   Mike says it is because just stating what happens in my life is a very vulnerable thing to do, as it leaves more to interpretation of the reader, and those interpretations may be unfavorable.  A very interesting comment that I want to explore further, but I’ll wait to ponder that one for another post.  So with that ,here’s the punishment I received.

Mike started me off with a mouth soaping, figuring it was appropriate for me opening my mouth and sharing what I shared with my friends.  For a soaping, I open my mouth and stick out my tongue.  Mike rubs an already wet and lathered bar of soap all over my tongue.  I then open wide and he rubs it all around the roof of my mouth, cheeks, and scrapes it across my teeth.  He then has me bite down on the bar to hold it in place in my mouth.

He then used a lot of our new implements from our recent Joy Box additions.   With soap in my mouth, he used our new cupping system on my breasts.  He applied some oil to my breasts, attached some small nipple clamps to my nipples, then applied the cups.  They provide a lot of suction on the breasts.  In the short run you don’t really feel much, but it gets increasingly uncomfortable overtime.  More blood rushes to the breast and they get a pinkish-purple like hue.  He then had me stand in the corner with my hands clasped behind my head.  I was then spanked as I stood there, first by hand, then with various paddles and straps.  Mike inserted a butt plug in me and left me in the corner for an hour.  By far the worst part was holding the soap in my mouth and standing in one place.  By the end of the hour I was a drooling mess and my jaw was sore.

He then walked me to the shower and using the hand nozzle he sprayed me down with cold water to clear the suds and drool from my face, chest, stomach, and legs.   He pulled the cups off my breasts and replaced the small nipple clamps with another pair that are far more intense and he adjusted them to be extremely tight.  He had me lay down on my stomach on the bathroom floor and got out the new cleansing system he ordered.  This was my first enema.

I anticipated it would be uncomfortable, but I didn’t anticipate the degree of the pressure and cramping.  Mike made me hold it in for five minutes, but it felt like much more.  He spanked me a few more times and then allowed me to get on the pot and get it out.   After I was done, he repeated the enema and spanking.  Then he did a third enema and had me hold it in for even longer before expelling.  He then finally removed the nipple clamps, but the respite for my nipples was short.

Mike got our nipple suckers, applied them to my nipples and pumped, and pumped some more.  He pumped more than I thought they could even be pumped.  I’ve never seen my nipples get so big.  He returned to me to the corner where I stood again with hands clasped behind my head.  Mike told me I was not to leave the corner for any reason else more punishment.  Well, I soon learned that the effects of an enema can last awhile and it wasn’t long before I just had to use the toilet.  I was clenching and holding as long as I could, and just about the time I was ready to give in and leave the corner (I wasn’t about to make a mess of things. I’ll take the added punishment), Mike entered the room.   I didn’t say anything as I am not to speak unless spoken to, but luckily Mike asked me how I was doing.  I told him I needed to go and thankfully he let me.

When I was done he removed the suckers and ran the pinwheel hard over my very large nipples for what seemed like a long time, but probably wasn’t. He then went back to the put the cups and applied them to my breasts.   Mike decided to break in another new toy, the anal beads.  I’ve never used anal beads before.  It is one of those progressive sets, and he put all but the last one inside me.  Thankfully even the largest one isn’t crazy big.  Big enough for sure and I was glad he didn’t insert that one, but this set of beads is what I would call an intermediate set.  Whatever you call it, it still call it uncomfortable to have them in for an extended time.  He then had me stand in the corner again and he left, returning in about 45 minutes.

He removed the cups and again added the suckers.  He ordered me on all fours and he played awhile with the beads, pulling them out, inserting them, pulling out, inserting. He took my hand and helped me to my feet and walked me over to a chair.  He sat down, put me over his knee, and spanked me by hand for what seemed like forever – had to be over 100 of various intensities.

He then did another enema and this time when he took the tube out, I was surprised as I immediately felt a butt plug being inserted.  Mike grabbed the bar of soap and administered another mouth soaping.  I was then walked over to the shower.  He told me to stand in the shower with my hands clasped behind my head, bar of soap in my mouth, with a rectum full of warm water.  Mike told me not to leave the tub and he would be back “at some point.”   He came in a few times to check on me and each time he didn’t say a word and then left.  At some point I just couldn’t hold it any longer.  I pushed the plug and water out.  At least after several enemas it was basically just water.

Once I expelled the water, my mind became more aware of my painful nipples. They were burning.   I was so uncomfortable that I started to cry.   Not from any specific pain, but just because I felt miserable, both emotionally and physically.   Expelled water from my ass, terrible soap in my mouth and soapy drool all down my body, nipples on fire, a sore bottom from the spankings, a bit crampy from the enemas, and a sore sphincter from all the clenching.

Mike returned and said, “I’ll be right back.”  He left and returned very shortly with Kayla.  He told Kayla to remove the suckers, clean me up, and dry me off.   He watched as she showered and then dried me off.  “Almost done,” he said.

With Kayla there, he had me state what I did to earn this “reward.”  He then gave a lecture.  He does this sometimes, usually near the end of a punishment.  It’s his way of recapping the events that brought on the punishment, making sure they remained top of mind.  He then told Kayla to get the prison strap and the cane.  He walked me over to the bed and  had me lay down on my stomach.   He then took the strap from Kayla and struck me, then handed it back to Kayla and took the cane and struck me, and then alternated back and forth for I think just five strikes with each item.  It wasn’t many, but they were very hard and were more than enough.  I cried, which again is uncommon for me, but it happens.

We then had our “closing ceremony” complete with aftercare, with one caveat.  Mike said we would repeat our entire morning again tomorrow PLUS that night and the next I would spend thirty minutes in the corner with the clamps on, followed by a spanking before bedtime.  Only then would the punishment be fully over.  As bad as the punishment itself was, the anticipation of knowing it would be repeated was just as bad.  Anticipation of a punishment, especially one this long and intense, is a punishment itself.

And when it was all finally over, it was truly over.  What I did was fully behind us, like always.  No lingering resentments.  All is forgiven.  Oh, and Mike added, “You know, if you just would have asked me beforehand, I am pretty sure I would have been fine with you telling your friends whatever you felt comfortable sharing with them.”

NEXT:  Post 134. Vulnerable to my readers / 1yr blogiversary 

66. A Quick Spanking Story

I can’t believe it’s been nine days since my last post.   Things have been pretty routine around here.  John and Donna went out of town for the long holiday weekend, so no adult time with them last weekend.

I will give you a two-fer today in two separate posts.

• The first is a spanking story to give you pervs something to get all warm and tingly about.
• The second is a more of an  esoteric ramble to give you philosophers, truth-seekers, and dreamers something to percolate in your mind.

Spanking Story
I did get a punishment over the weekend from Mike that was notable due to the severity.   I don’t get spanked often as I seem to have hit a stride with our routine and am consistently able to fulfill all my many duties and obligations.  The notable exception was last weekend.  I had gone out with my niece (she is in her twenties) for some shopping and a day out.   I forgot my cell phone, which is a no-no.  I called Mike from my niece’s phone to make him aware I didn’t have my phone on me.   When I called him I didn’t expect him to scold me or tell me there would be consequences later.  He knows that I know that there will be consequences, so no need to point it out.  What I wasn’t sure of is whether he would tell me to come home now and if so, spank me of course and then he may or may not allow me to go back out.

He just matter-of-factly said that if he needed something he would call my niece’s phone.  I was relieved he didn’t want me to come home right then.  My days out are not just for fun, but are needed as part of decompressing and re-energizing myself to take on the primary care duties of our son.  I mentioned before he has a disability and caring for him can be physically and emotionally demanding.  Of course, add in all the domestic duties I have willingly taken on, and mentally I need my occasional days out.

I knew what was in store for me when I got home, although I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of it.   As I pulled into the garage and closed the garage door, Mike entered and said, “Drop your pants right there.”  He shared that our son was over at a friends and wouldn’t be back for about an hour.   I did so and leaned against the car and Mike proceeded to spank me by hand, very hard, probably about 30 times in rapid succession.

He then told me to undress and go to our room.  I did so, and took the customary stance in the corner, awaiting his arrival.  Mike came in the room and without moving from the corner took off his belt and gave me about 15, again in pretty rapid succession.  He then told me to clasp my hands behind my head and continue standing in the corner.  He left the room and came back about 10 minutes later.  He got the infamous prison strap and spanked me pretty hard five times, then called me over across his knee.  He spanked me countless times by hand, perhaps 200.  Not hard, but just a steady rhythm of spank after stinging spank.   Needless to say I was quite teary eyed and my ass was completely covered in the brightest shade of pink I’ve ever seen.   When he was done he had me stand in the corner about another 15 minutes and then we concluded the episode per our Rewards Ceremony and that was that.

It was while I was in the corner that I began to reflect and ponder, which leads me to the next post . . .

NEXT:  67. An Esoteric Ramble