Thursday, July 30, 2015

Confusion vs. Clarity

Whew, lot’s going on here; I will try to be concise. Recently we went out of town, and the lexan paddle that I dutifully packed in the lid of the suitcase somehow didn’t make it home with us. There was no need to use it on the trip, so my best guess is that it fell out in the hotel when we were packing up. As bringing it along on trips is entirely my responsibility, I realized I would probably be in trouble for its disappearance. When I told Bruce what had happened he said I would have to order another one. Since this expense could have been avoided he said I was to give him the receipt when it arrived, and I would receive two strikes per dollar spent; this would simultaneously serve as a punishment for wasting money, and an emphatic reminder of why we own such implements in the first place. I set out to reorder what we had lost, but it was no longer available. Again I told Bruce, and he said I would have to find another one that was comparable or “better.” Not only were all of the remaining selections “better,” but the most preferable options were out of stock. In the end I had no choice but to order a thicker, wider, and much longer version of a paddle that was already very difficult for me to take :(

Since the sum of the receipt left me with a more than substantial tab, Bruce reassured me that we would split the punishment into two different sittings. Not knowing what to expect, I had a pretty rough time of it on the first night. I basically fell apart immediately; I did manage to basically hold still, but I begged and cried worse than ever, and truly lost all composure. In the aftermath Bruce held me, but I felt strangely sad about the way I had reacted. He realized I had been overwhelmed by the change in severity and wasn’t disappointed or frustrated, but it didn’t matter… in losing composure I had failed to give him the gift of my submission, defeating the purpose of being spanked in the first place.

So last night I received the second half of the punishment/reminder. All day I focused on my resolve to be as still and compliant as possible… given my initial reaction to the increased intensity, I wanted to show my submission through my stillness and quiet. While I got into position I told him that I love him, and he put his arm around my waist and said “Baby I love you too; that’s why we’re doing this.” When the warm-up ended I braced myself… as expected, even the first strike was breathtaking. As the spanking continued I fought hard to hold still, and in an effort to stay quiet I repeatedly held my breath. When it was all over he hugged me, and I was delighted to note that he was touched by my changed response. But had I truly submitted? We made love and settled into bed, but instead of drifting off to sleep, my mind whirled. I reached for my iPad on the nightstand, and sought clarity from Webster’s Dictionary. Two definitions provided food for thought:
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Hmm. In light of these definitions, my first thought was that true submission and surrender requires complete, continual acceptance, both physically and emotionally. And yet something about this line of thinking felt fuzzy. In struggling to process, I articulated this to Bruce. Interestingly, he only agreed in part: yes, to achieve total acceptance is beautiful on occasion, “But part of this whole idea is that for me to be in control you choose to accept my control in spite of the way you feel. It wouldn’t be real submission if you already felt like giving in.” Okay, yeah, that was a really valid point... I’m finding that the more familiar I get with the concept of submission, the more complex it becomes! But for all of its confusion and frustration it has brought even more freedom and reconciliation. Upsetting? Yeah. But worth it? Definitely.


Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Argument ending in... Simplicity

Two nights ago we had a huge fight that escalated into a yelling match. This used to happen two or three times a month, but since starting DD back in January it has thankfully only happened twice. I would venture to say that if we were always cognizant of the tool of domestic discipline it would never happen. A major factor in these yelling matches is… me. I get emotional, I feel I’m being misunderstood, and I escalate the intensity of the situation way too high way too soon. The other night was no exception; I am embarrassed to even think back to all of the stupid things I said, or rather yelled.

Bruce tried to diffuse the situation, but to no avail. In total frustration he finally got up, grabbed the paddle, and demanded I get into position. I almost immediately started sobbing, but I knew he was right to force me to stop. When he spoke again I could tell he had checked his anger; he quietly reiterated that I have to stop when he says it’s time to stop. I still strongly felt that we needed to discuss further, but at that point I knew that trying to do so would be unwise. Instead I continued to cry as I wordlessly got into position. Bruce has stated before that I sometimes do not “deserve” a warm-up, and this was clearly one of those times. Oh, it hurt so badly! It felt like he was paddling me much harder than usual, but it somehow hurts more when I know he is upset, so maybe that was why it felt so harsh. There is something about the vulnerability of lying there bare, submitting to correction from the man I love, that penetrates so deeply into my psyche every single time... Suddenly the issues of our fight seemed very far away... The pain of every strike was extremely hard to take, but I am proud to say that -with the exception of lifting my head twice- I didn’t squirm around at all. Through my tears I begged for mercy and pleadingly apologized. Desperate for relief I tried to articulate why I was sorry, and it was then that I realized that I did feel truly sorry! We had both been unfair and had misunderstood each other, but I had been the one taking things too far. We have agreed before that I need to stop when he tells me to, and I had become so emotional that I had neglected to honor that agreement.

When he had first told me to get into position I felt so conflicted and angry with him. But when the spanking was over I felt sincerely sorry, and longed to be close to him. The logic behind this is hard to grasp; he was faced with a stubborn wife who became relentlessly malicious and refused to understand, and instead of demonstrating patience he demanded I submit to a severe spanking… and incredibly enough, doing so immediately brought contrition and softness. Why does this work so well? I believe it is because administering/submitting to a spanking returns us to the essence of our true natures: I desire to submit, he desires to lead, and we are forced to remember that when we go through these physical actions. Bruce has said before that it works not because it is complicated, but because it is simple. He said that when we do this “We both know exactly what it means, and we both know exactly why we are doing it- period.” Yeah, I guess that is pretty simple.

…Have I mentioned that I adore that man? :)