Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Thin Ice

The pivotal moments in this lifestyle are dead serious. To truly commit to living this way both partners have to put all selfishness aside and get serious. But there are also lighter moments sprinkled in, and these moments are just as important in acclimating to this crazy dynamic. It occurred to me that all of my blog-worthy moments thus far have been serious, so I figured it was time to blog about a lighter one…

My husband has a crazy job. It’s physically and emotionally draining on a good day, and last Saturday was not a good day. He came home, we ate dinner, and eventually found ourselves laying on the bed talking. I could see that he was tired, and I knew he just wanted to wind down and go to sleep, but I had been home all day and I wasn’t tired; actually, the prospect of settling into bed seemed unbearably boring. I wasn’t ready to wind down!

So in order to get more out of the evening, I started acting playfully. He reciprocated a little at first, but the poor man was so tired! I relentlessly continued, and finally it was clear that he was definitely irritated. And it was then that I found myself in a very familiar place: so often Bruce makes it clear that I am on thin ice, and nearly every time I have this frozen moment where I am tempted to surge ahead anyway… I am proud to say that I usually resist this urge, but on this particular evening I decided to see how much the ice would hold before breaking. I made a *truly funny* joke at his expense, and he made no response. At least no verbal response; his expression plainly asked: “you’re really doing this right now?” If I’m honest with myself I did know at that point that it was time to reign it in. But mindlessly I followed the temptation to push; I smirked and said something to the effect of my being funny even if he was too grouchy to admit it.


Obviously, this was stupid. I knew it was stupid before it even came out of my mouth! In one move he leaned forward and wrapped his left arm around my waist, lifting my hips into the air. I wiggled as he started spanking me with his free hand. At first I was halfway giggling, but in the past few months he has found a way to spank really hard with just his hand; after a while it really started to hurt. Eventually I actually pleaded with him to stop, but instead of stopping he pulled my underwear down and continued. Completely sobered by discomfort, I finally kept my mouth shut and just took it. When he was finished he pulled me up and asked me how funny that was. I felt silly looking at him… “It wasn’t. I’m sorry.” He put his arms around me and told me how I need to respect his need for quiet relaxation when he's had a rough day. And having finally tested the ice, I felt confident that I could resist the urge in the future.

And then I heard him snicker slightly. I pulled back to see him grinning and shaking his head, and I giggled in response. We hugged again, still laughing, and then he kissed me on the head. After a moment he said: "Okay, yeah... it was a little funny." And on that note we flipped off the lights, snuggled into bed, and drifted off to sleep.

Monday, June 8, 2015

Tough Love

Lately I feel like I have been writing a How-To manual on how NOT to practice DD. It is worth noting, however, that even in the midst of all of our blunders our relationship is in better harmony than it ever was pre-DD. Still, when everything actually does work as it should… wow, does it blow your mind!

Not unlike most other women, I’ve found that my desire to be intimate has increased, or more accurately skyrocketed, since introducing this dynamic into our marriage. And we had a pretty healthy sex-life to begin with! Admittedly there is a certain appeal to being physically dominated, but the biggest appeal comes from watching my soul mate become more confident and authoritative in everyday life… it makes the man incredibly sexy. Anyway, since I am desiring intimacy so frequently I have decided to back off and let Bruce initiate more often, simply to remind myself that the desire is not one-sided.

Last night as we neared the end of the show we were watching I found myself yet again wishing for intimacy. The show ended, and Bruce looked at me and asked what I wanted to do. I lied and said I didn’t care, and that I wanted to do whatever he wanted to do. After hesitating a moment, he decided we would finish a documentary we had started earlier in the week. I felt so hurt. How did he not want the same thing I wanted right now? I stared frozenly toward the screen, trying to hide the tears welling up in my eyes. At one point he asked me if I was ok; without turning to him I said of course, hoping he wouldn’t look too closely at my face (he can always tell when I am tearful). To my surprise he looked away and we continued the documentary.

After it was over I quietly got up and started getting ready for bed, but when I came back into the bedroom I froze: there he sat with that stupid paddle in his hand. I said nothing, and he politely asked me to get undressed. As I did so he told me how inappropriate it was to lie about how I was feeling, and then have the nerve to become passive aggressive when he decided to take me at my word. Ok, he was right; I knew that was fair. As he pulled me across his lap and gave me a warm up, he continued; “it is ridiculous to get upset because I didn’t feel exactly the way you did at the exact same moment.” Again, he was right. I felt him move for the paddle and I tucked my arms under my chest and held my breath… there is no such thing as a moderate paddling in our house; he has stated more than once that if an offense is significant enough to warrant the paddle, it is significant enough that it needs to be a hard spanking. I have begged him to ease me into the intensity of it all, if nothing else so that I can better brace myself to hold still, and this time he did exactly that… "We’re different people and we’re not going to feel identically all of the time. This isn’t a big deal- you’ve got to learn to get over it.” As the strikes increased in intensity I fought hard to hold still; I knew he was being fair and I wanted to physically show my submission through my stillness. Although I eventually couldn’t help but squirm a little, in the end I was more still than ever before. It was a harsh spanking, but I swear it hurts even more when he is clear on how and why I’ve disappointed him.

After it was over I was considerably uncomfortable, but nonetheless relieved to find that he did want to be intimate after all. The lovemaking was incredible, and even though it intensified the pain I didn’t care; I felt so loved and cared for. I had let my emotions dictate my behavior, and he hated that. But instead of abandoning me in frustration, he addressed the issue... he was upset with me, but he cherished me even more. And so I didn’t stubbornly wallow in my emotional rut, but recognized and owned my mistake. He held me as we drifted off to sleep, and I felt such an incredible comfort in his strong arms. This is what it feels like when he is effectively leading and I am effectively submitting, and what a feeling it is! We’re not perfect, and one or both of us will be flawed or even ineffective at our roles again. But even if it doesn't happen every time, experiencing the fulfillment of following through exactly as intended is indescribably reassuring. Again, domestic discipline is merely a man-made (and likely flawed) model for the roles that God created for man and wife. Still, I am thankful for anything that brings us one step closer to that perfect design. Submission… leadership… blissful harmony.




Tuesday, June 2, 2015

JOY

The secrecy of this lifestyle is overwhelming, and yet it brings with it a very distinct subculture: Domestic Discipline forums, chatrooms, countless personal blogs… It is certainly an interesting world to navigate. And generally speaking, it is a beautiful thing! Not only can like-minded people connect with one another, but inexperienced couples can learn so much from the wealth of information that others are freely sharing. Not to mention the incredible friendships that are created; I can’t even begin to describe how connecting with such like-minded women has changed my life. I am truly amazed at the beautiful women I have befriended thus far.

But this underground world and its endless recounting of experiences brings with it something deadly: comparison. As we become aware of and fascinated by this lifestyle we encounter thousands upon thousands of stories. Ideally we learn from these stories, and try to make our own journey run more smoothly. But we are a weak species! We may basically desire to be good, but our selfishness nearly always wins out in the end. True to type, this past week I found myself selfishly wondering why my husband wasn’t acting like other husbands I've read about. And from what I understand, I am not alone in falling into this trap; it’s too easy to hear about others’ successes and expect them for ourselves. Mark Twain said: “Comparison is the death of joy.” How true- when we start focusing on the journey of those around us we inevitably lose track of our own. And comparison in this context is completely unfair; not only are our experiences, ages, and characteristics varied, but the dynamic of each individual couple is totally unique as well. I knew this line of thinking had to stop.

And then a few nights ago I found myself over Bruce’s knee for sassing. Between painful strikes he reiterated how important it is for me to be respectful, and as usual this vulnerability cleared my mind of all but the present issue. Be respectful… I considered how I could improve, and as I pictured what that should look like it suddenly registered how far I’ve come in this department. Just six months ago I was guilty of belligerently putting him down whenever he did something I considered offensive, but here I was being spanked over not knowing when to stop teasing; what an improvement! In this split-second of clarity I soaked in the series of events that led me to be otk… I sassed, he gave me a warning look. I continued, he instructed me to retrieve the paddle. I quietly obeyed, got into position, and here we were. Even a few weeks ago I would have considered it impossible for us to execute this series of events so smoothly. Moment over, I begged for mercy; he eventually stopped, pulled me up, and looked me in the eye for the last sentence of his lecture. We hugged, and then it really hit me: however uniquely paced and unusually ordered it may be, our journey to the roles we desire is real; not just in regards to the physicality of domestic discipline, but in regards to who we are as husband and wife. Without a doubt he is learning to lead and I am learning to follow. Comparison to others is the death of joy. But comparison to our former selves, that can only bring a growing contentment; a joy that is alive and well :)