Getting Back to That Place

I am happy to announce that my late-night blogging effort was well received by JP.  We are getting things back on track and working hard at communicating.  I even went OTK this morning.  

Thanks to everyone out there who views my blog and supports my journey!!

A Failure to Communicate

Adjusting to this new lifestyle has proven to be a bit more tough than anticipated.

We had an incident occur over the weekend that has definitely shaken things a bit.  Different from my post last week, I know.  I struggled with writing this piece at all, knowing that it isn’t fun or glamorous to publicly admit that your relationship and chosen lifestyle have been called into question by the two people that are most likely to be effected – US.  I needed days (yes, literally days) to process my feelings.  I just never really knew what to say.  But sometimes, I find courage in the way that others can identify.  A big thank you to Autumn @aspankingstory.blogspot.com for giving me the extra boost of courage I needed to get this post out.

Friday was great.  We spent time together in our pool and spa.  Cocktails in hand, we listened to old jazz and talked.  Then I started dancing…we started kissing.  Things were great.  Then, the surprise water implements came out.  This was definitely needed as both of us had a very busy week and maintenance and rule enforcement consistency had slipped.  Yet, there was still much to feel like a “good girl,” about.  The spanking that ensued occurred bent over the tile retaining wall between the pool and spa – perfect.  At the time, I remember thinking (only for a moment) how much fun it would be to write about this spa-nking.  (Like Frahnk from Father of the Bride)  JP chose a metal slotted spoon that is large and round.  (Don’t worry, my rear end is stronger than the bendy metal, but it does hurt for sure.)  I was staring up at the moonlight, the top half of my naked body was positioned above the water, the bottom half submerged.  I knelt on the step of the spa as I felt the slotted spatula make contact with my bottom, time and again.  In between, JP asked me affirming questions…like, “Who’s my good girl?”  “I am, Sir,” I could proudly reply.  “Who’s in charge here?”  “You are, Sir.”  Each time the slotted spatular made contact, a splash of warm water would rush through the holes and the sting of each smack was intensified – but also served as a soothing sensation.  It was oddly comforting, like warm soup on a cold day.  But, it was important.  It was serving as an excellent reminder of who was the top and who was ladling my bottom with Spank Soup.

When he stopped, he pulled me in close and whispered how much he loved me.  We went inside.  I put on a wife beater t-shirt and a pair of white cotton panties.  He put on a collared shirt, dress slacks, a tie, the whole nine yards.   He explained that I needed to sit in the chair and face the wall for a few minutes before we began.  It was hot, of course.  Despite the “hot” factor, I used this time for the purpose intended – genuine reflection time. Then we discussed why I was being punished.  There had been a lot of bratty behavior, a sunburnt bum early in the week and poor communication.  He delivered a sound spanking, starting with a warm up from the tilt wand, then moving on to a long, thin paddle.  Then the punishment began.  A thick Chechen wood paddle with the words, ‘Good Girl,’ engraved on one side, packs quite the punch.  I felt the punishment might have been a bit light…12 swats with low-medium level force proved his point quite nicely, though.  I didn’t cry, I usually don’t.  I thanked him.  We took a break, I changed.  We hung out for a little while longer and then made incredibly passionate love.  We felt super close.  It was amazing.

What’s not to love, right?

Saturday was a bit different.  I spent most of the day cleaning, and JP took the kids to a movie, followed by Grandma’s house for the evening.  I made a delicious dinner, things seemed to be going well.

However, several factors were working against me.  It had been so hot that day.  Humid and over 105 degrees.  I had been cleaning all day, grocery shopping and other assorted funnery.  I was tired and my back hurt.  I am generally not one to complain (too much).  However, the wise girl that I am…I decided to give up smoking cigarettes the very same day (JP HATES cigarettes) and stick to using the much less potent e-cig he brought home for me.  The extreme drop in nicotine levels caused me to be tired and very grumpy…irrationally exhausted.

I didn’t want to ruin any fun, and never complained more than once about my back hurting.  JP massaged my aches and pains and tenderly kissed my body all over.

So…what went wrong?  Well, next he went ‘a fetchin’ the chechen wood paddle.  I knew I needed to once again feel his dominance and, consequently, to absorb the therapeutic brain waves generated when submitting to the man I respect and love more than any other.

I (mistakenly) mentioned that I was having trouble staying in place, not kicking, raising up, etc., and that it would be great if we could work on that during this maintenance session.  I don’t know if he felt like I was topping from the bottom, or what.  It didn’t feel like he took that away from my comment at the time.

I should have communicated the following things instead:

1.  I am REALLY tired, worn out and exhausted

2.  I am still reaping the genuine benefits from last night’s punishment (even though it was light)

3.  When nicotine leaves my system and I am not getting that stream, my mental capacity isn’t up to par (granted, I didn’t really equate my emotional fragility with this nic-dip until later)

But I didn’t.  Epic FAIL.

He should have communicated the following things to me:

1.  I am going to test your limits, let me know if you need a break

2.  You should tell me before you reach your limit that your limit is close, then again when it is really close

3.  This is all loving maintenance and setting the bar for properly disciplining/punishing you in the future

That being said, I had my mind set for complete submission.  I don’t ever want to appear weak or frail.  I want to show genuine humility. I want to accept all of my spankings for whatever reason He chooses, and not make him feel bad for providing me with much-needed discipline, maintenance, play or role adjustment.  Besides, this was no punishment spanking.

He began with a warm up.  He used baby oil gel to ensure my bottom stayed supple and to prevent bruising.  He repeated the application several times throughout the spanking.  He started with a thorough warm up.  By the time he got to the spanking, my back was already killing me from impact.  I should have respectfully told him so…but I didn’t.  He never spanked overly hard; although he did alternate between hard hand smacks, The Chechan, the tilt wand, and the long, slender paddle.  The only bit of valuable communication that I did offer up (besides “Ow!!!” and a couple of muttered expletives) was that he had used the slender paddle so long that my rear was numb.  Brilliant offering, Pink, brilliant!  Meanwhile, I was thirsty (should’ve said something,) I was exhausted (should have said something) and I was feeling confused as to what we were doing.  This was by far the longest session we had ever had of any type.  (BUT, yep…I should’ve said something).

Instead of being the Humbled Pink good girl that I usually am, I was denying my own needs!  I was not protecting myself.

Just a piece of advice to anyone new to this…if you are in this situation, please speak up.  This isn’t the same as when you find yourself thirsty while walking through the mall.   Someone is discipling and/or spanking you.  Not asking for water or conveying other important needs is demeaning to one’s self.  I sincerely regret grasping at bravado in a time when all I needed to be was submissive.  Taking care of both partner’s true needs during any kind of session or scene is vital to physical and mental wellbeing.  I am stepping down from my soapbox now.

I allowed my body to endure more than my mind could endure in order to show how tough I was.  It is amazing how clear this all is 4 days later.  At the time, I was stunned.  I was confused, tired and craving a real cigarette.  As he continues to rain down, I finally slowly raised my hand and began to cry.  I choked my way through saying “Please, Sir…please stop, I can’t handle this anymore.”

That was nothing healthy or cathartic like most people talk about when releasing tears; and a cathartic episode was what I secretly yearned to experience at the end of this spanking.  But, I didn’t.  I failed to communicate in every way.

It was a cry of broken will; one that was ONE HUNDRED PERCENT AVOIDABLE now that I am 96 hours down the road from trying to be tough.  I know that it was never his intent to hurt me or “break me.” He loves me with every fiber of his being and we are closer and more in touch than we have ever been.  Communication!!!!!  @EmergingDom tried to remind me twice, but I failed when it was most important.  It is in every bit of research I have found.  It is the basis for success.  And I failed to communicate.  For that, JP, Sir… I am truly sorry and can only ask your forgiveness and promise to always keep an open line with you when it vitally impacts my safety and mental health.

Then came the after-care.  I was still confused.  My heart was in chains and my mouth was totally out of line.  He beckoned me to him, offering his wide open arms and tender touch. But as I tossed a salad of contempt dressed with a Blame & Shame Vinaigrette, I clammed up, started bawling and refused to hug him.  I did this for only a moment before I regained my rationality and apologized.  It was not his fault.  I did mention that I didn’t understand why it was so intense and long.  We were probably engaged in that session for no less than 45 minutes.  But then, I curled up and immediately went to sleep, with a whimper.

In retrospect, Sir, I apologize from the bottom of my heart for abandoning you when you needed to love me, for blaming you when it was I who needed to be seen as tolerant of pain and strong.  I am sorry for abandoning you completely by just going to sleep with no regard for your feelings.  

The next morning, when I woke up, I felt weird.  It was like a hangover that wasn’t a result of being drunk.  I was sad. I felt cold, isolated, and physically achey.  I can almost guarantee now that 90% of it was a result of not smoking.  At the time, I found it impossible to be rational and I spent several hours trying to feel okay.  JP went to get the kids (very sweet, btw) and I pulled myself out of that funk.  I immediately realized that I had not done him any favors by trying to be ‘hard’.  I had put him in a crappy position, possibly feeling as though he had abused me when I asked for this life and could have told him at any point that I needed to stop.

He tried to comfort me that morning, at first, and then I think it became a futile effort as far as he was concerned.  I took a bunch of brick and cement and put a wall up that we had recently torn down. (This is a metaphor.  No tangible physical barriers were actually constructed in the production of this analogy relating to my failure to communicate.)  I was in a bad mood, but got better as the day went on.  But the damage was done.

He felt abandoned.  He felt like he hurt me and I got mad.  I feel terrible for my short-sided view of the situation.

JP, my love, I assure you that you hold my love forever and that I can’t apologize enough for getting overly exhausted, not using the e-cig correctly to curb breakdowns, and for leaving you feeling lost and hurt.  I hope that you can forgive me, that you can come back around as my HoH and Dominant and that we can restore what we were doing a nice job of building.  Setting up more structure and responsibility to take the necessary time to maintain our lifestyle is a definite commitment of mine and I humbly ask you for your help in creating the structure we need and guiding me in a plan that will be successful.  

To anyone who reads this, please do not be discouraged by my experience.  I wish for nothing more than to convey that the DD side of our relationship was great until a breakdown in communication and subsequent blame (me) caused guilt (in him).  Now he feels unsure of his role – the worst possible outcome of a decision to water my own garden of pride.

We love each other.  Today, tomorrow…always.

Sir, we will make it through this, and I hope that I can restore your confidence in the fact that I believe you are an AMAZING HoH and dominant partner.  All my love,

-Pink

 

21 Days – Role Adjustment & Discipline Training

What did these crazy kids go and do?

My husband and I are both very sexual creatures.  If one thing has been consistently great in our relationship, it is definitely our sex life.  We share a trust that plays into our ability to openly communicate sexually.

As we embark on our new journey, I find that the need to feel his control and be guided by him is instinctively driven by my sexuality.  I don’t find that submission hinders upon sex, I feel as though the freedom of allowing myself to openly live a lifestyle that I deeply desire leads to complete freedom sexually.  If I find it ridiculously hot when he tells me sternly, “watch your tone,” I don’t have to feel bad about that!  If his taking the time and energy to stimulate me mentally and physically while acting as a disciplinarian is arousing, why should I deny that?  If submitting to his desires, enhancing his masculine drive, and allowing him control is bad, why does it feel so good?

It isn’t bad and I don’t have to feel bad about it.  I won’t ever flaunt it.  You won’t find me in public overtly dramatizing my choice to submit to my husband.  The feelings I have within me are secure and devoid of the need to prove myself to others outwardly.

We decided after returning from vacation recently that we seemed to be bumbling along, and taking two steps forward and one step back.  It was hard after 10 years to adjust to roles that were quite different.  We were used to blatantly disrespecting each other at times, and old habits die hard.  Through my journal, I suggested we try a more dedicated approach.

Some refer to it as Domestic Discipline Boot Camp.  I prefer “Role Adjustment.”  It sounds less scary.  No matter what you call it, the thought was conceived after reading a lot of information and deciding that no single formula will work, or should try to be forced to work, for every couple.

A great resource for people looking for unbiased and non-judgmental information on the topic of DD is A Domestic Discipline Society.   http://adomesticdisciplinesociety.blogspot.com.  I enjoyed reading the article published that discusses Domestic Discipline Boot Camp, the origins and the actual suggestions that are made by the woman who originally penned this piece.  (If you want to skip the origins, scroll down a bit for the  Boot Camp details.) http://adomesticdisciplinesociety.blogspot.com/2012/10/dd-boot-camp-revealed.html

MrBBSpanker explains that the Boot Camp described within this article is one of the most extreme he has ever heard of.  It probably is quite extreme for some, especially those who are just starting out.  I sent the article over to JP, he perused.  I suggested that we do something similar to this, with some adjustments.  I never wanted to feel incredibly degraded, just the opposite.  In order for me to begin to receive his respect, I needed to begin to get used to behaving in a manner that was worthy of respecting.

We have also used this time to test implements, both for effectiveness and pain metering purposes.  I found the pain tolerance ladder from MrBBSpanker to be an extremely effective tool for communicating to JP the intensity of the implement and the strike.  That article can be found here: http://adomesticdisciplinesociety.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-tolerance-ladder.html#more  Saying, ” 2-5,”  after an implement impacts your tender regions, is a lot easier than something vague. Instead of something like,  “It was kinda bad, but not unbearable.   Like, um, the last one, but stingier…” a scale gives you both a way to quantify the ouch-factor of each strike with consistency.

As we have moved through the 21 day process (currently on day 9), it appears that we are becoming much comfortable with the blend of sexuality as it relates to DD.  I am not owned, I am not his slave.  I am his “good girl,” and I act like it.  I confess to the things that I think he needs to know to help guide me…he disciplines (or doesn’t) how he sees fit.  In the midst of that, we don’t pretend that the sexual chemistry and spark isn’t there and we don’t deny it.  When he tells me to get on my knees, I happily comply because this is what I want and not because I am being forced or need to be humiliated.  Positioning myself so that I can stare into his eyes and suck his cock after he has told me to do so is more of a turn on than I could ever imagine.  Thanking him for my maintenance spankings and for punishing me when I have broken a rule or shown disrespect is freeing and feels incredibly natural.  I am thankful for his time, patience and guidance.  I am thankful that I have a way to admit to having messed up and I don’t have to deny that I was wrong, I just submit to the discipline that helps me be a more thoughtful and productive person.

So, as the 21 days winds on I, HumbledPink, am incredibly glad we decided to have a Role Adjustment period.  It hasn’t been 100% free of issues.  We even had to have a “reset” session several days ago to completely re-establish our roles after we both handled a situation poorly.  It was a bit painful (but necessary, completely). The point is that we did  reset, it worked well and we can trust that in times of trouble, we are both committed to each other and a life that brings us peace.

Truthfully, I will be sad when these 21 days are over.  But, I guess they don’t have to end.

-Pink

:: Gentleman’s Rules #5

:: Gentleman’s Rules #5.  Courtesy of #emergingdom

Why I Asked My Husband to Spank Me (The Story of Us) Part II

I returned to our bedroom.   JP was on the edge of his seat, literally, with his hands clasped and the concentrated and weary look  of trying to be prepared for nearly anything splashed across his face.

I started by smiling.  I wanted him to know that I wasn’t going to burst into tears (yet) and that this wasn’t going to be as bad as he had prepared himself for.

“I want you to know a few things before I begin.  First, I love you sooooo much.  Over the last ten years, you have grown to be my best friend and my rock.  I also need you to know that I love and respect myself immensely.  I am worthy of love and respect, loyalty and honesty.  I feel that I am intelligent, talented and worthy of a partner that cherishes me.”

This is where his eyes narrowed a bit, like I might be breaking up with him.

“In the same light, you are intelligent, funny and ambitious.  You are driven, capable, strong and strategic.  You are worthy of love, respect, loyalty and honesty.  I honestly don’t feel like I have been all that respectful…for several years, actually.  I have been dishonest…not in any huge way, I have been faithful, but in a lot of small ways that break down our barriers to communication and degrade the quality of our relationship.”

A more relaxed look spread across his face.

“Do I think all of our relationship’s problems are my fault?  No.  But, I feel like I blamed the majority of it on you for a long time.  We have some big issues.  We fight way more than is necessary.  When one of us starts a fight, the other one is immediately defensive and lashes back.  As soon as one of us feels attacked, the barrage of low-ball insults and hurtful memories not only surface, they explode.

I have spent a lot of time thinking over the last year and a half.  After I got laid off, I remember tearfully telling you that I needed to focus on me, that I felt like I was floundering and I didn’t know what direction I was headed.  I know it was incredibly hard for you to understand, and incredibly hard for us to handle financially.  You were patient as I developed a business plan and are still being patient as I get it up and running.  The important things to me?  Even though you were initially resistant, you never gave up on me.  When I was low and struggling, you never left me.”

Here is where I start to burst into tears for a moment…then I calmed down again.

“And now, I make a living doing things that I love.  I get to be creative, I get to fulfill my passion….and I am really good at it!  I am making money and continuing to move forward and I absolutely could not have done it without you.  I know we aren’t rich and I am not making a ton of money, but people are paying me to do this!”

Now he was smiling, sweetly.

“So, here is the part that is hard.  I feel like I could do better.  No, I know I could do better.    The issues that continue to plague me are things that bother you too.  I know we could work on it together.  We have goals and we are both accountable.  Sometimes, I have a hard time holding myself accountable.  I have this, ‘bleh, whatever – I will do that later, and if it doesn’t happen, oh well!’ kind of attitude.  That sucks.  Then, when you say anything, I get all defensive, bring up the things I do right and make you feel like shit for saying anything.  And it isn’t working for me.  I want to be better than that and I can’t do anything unless I admit that.  The way I talk to you sometimes is so unacceptable and emasculating.  I think it is totally unacceptable, bratty behavior that has to stop.”

He agreed and had that sexy, stern look on his face.  But, there was no judgement there.  He looked surprised by my honesty and soooooooo relieved that I wasn’t leaving him for a man named “Paul,” (or any name) that I met on the internet (or wherever….Paul isn’t real.)   🙂

I took a deep breath.  Several, probably.

“Now – you know how I feel about sex, our sex life…how I like it kinda rough and enjoy spanking and stuff like that? ”  (Yes, I really was that eloquent.)

(This part was so humbling.  This is honestly where the name of my Blog, HumbledPink, came from.  I know my cheeks were bright pink with embarrassment while admitting my faults and suggesting that I, a grown woman, would want my husband to spank me, paddle me, correct my behavior, make decisions for our family and demand respect, obedience and fulfillment from me.  Little did I know, several weeks from now, my other cheeks would be humbled pink…, then red.)   😉

“I started to investigate myself even more.  Trying to hone in on where those desires were coming from.  Obviously, you know what kind of stuff I watch, ya know…on the internet, that relates to BDSM, Dominance & Submission…”

He nodded.  His demeanor was very much in control.  The look on his face denoted the utmost respect for me; a kind, gentle look of understanding, security and trust.  That look, in that moment, was the most calming and penetrating look that he (maybe) has ever given me.  I will never forget it; I had his complete attention.  My vulnerability was alluring and my honesty and admission of my own faults was earning additional respect.  He was continuing to make me feel more comfortable continuing.

“So, I started wondering why I was watching that stuff.  To me, the element missing throughout is the intimacy.  You can’t feel that these people know and trust each other .  The ones that have that trust, seemingly, are few and far between; probably because those people aren’t filming themselves and distributing it across media platforms.  When I honed in on what I was looking for, it was submission and discipline.  The sharp ‘thwack’ of justice landing on a lovely behind that just won’t behave.”

I paused for a moment and looked around, letting the silence fill my ears and truly feeling my submission in my heart before saying what I needed to say.

“I need discipline.  I want to give up my power and trust you.  I want you to make the decisions and trust you to do so.  I would like to end the power struggle and disrespect.  I am expected to obey, submit and be held accountable for my actions.  If I throw a fit, I am punished.  If I yell, am rude or disrespectful, I am punished.  In return, I get your love, respect and to be cherished by you.  My submission is a gift to you and your guidance, love and honor is a gift to me.”

He looked stunned.  Happy stunned, but stunned nonetheless.

“This is obviously something that has to be designed, planned and contain specific requirements.  And, of course, none of this means I am a doormat or servant.  I am still capable of making decisions and lending opinions – I am just going to let you make the final decisions and be okay with that.  Also, I know this is a lot to take in.  It has been a lot for me to take in.  I’m sure you need to time to absorb this and think about it.  You probably don’t even understand the dynamic yet, but you will.  If you are open to it, I will send you some articles and information I found so that you can see how other people have done things and see where we can personalize it.  So, hopefully you think I am brave and not ridiculous, being a grown woman asking to be spanked.”

I paused again.  “Okay, you can talk now.”  I smiled, softly and looked into his eyes.

He cleared his throat and began, “I do think you’re brave.  It takes a lot of guts to admit your faults and ask for help.  It was really honest and I think that alone will help us move to another level.  You’re right, I don’t fully understand yet and I need to learn more.  I also know that something does have to change.  I could never find the right solution either.  I never would have thought of this, but it is an interesting approach.  I never want to change you.  I love you. I don’t want you to become some Stepford Wife, or robot devoid of personality and intelligence.  I just want to make that clear.”

“I totally appreciate that,” I said.

I wanted to add a few things.

“This isn’t a parent/child dynamic.  It is entirely different and I think that its important to note that.  This is my choice; something I need as a woman and as a submissive woman who wants leadership, not a Daddy.”

“Good,” he said.  “I can see the difference, for sure.  I will tell you one thing…it’s pretty hot.  The thought of ending the play for power and holding ourselves accountable.   And the fact that I spank you if I need to.  It makes me feel like I have a certain amount of recourse.”

“I know, right?  It is the most emotionally arousing feeling I have ever experienced.  I feel like having an emotional orgasm.”  We both laughed and he took my hand and gently kissed it.  We discussed it for a little while longer and then I left him alone to sleep.  It was hard for me to sleep.

The next day came.  I sent him info, research and articles.  Then I left him alone.  I didn’t say anything for a day and a half.  He acknowledged getting my emails and said that he would take a look at everything.  It wasn’t awkward and I was trying to display patience and appreciation for him hearing me out.

On Friday afternoon, after work, we sat down.  He smiled and started talking.

“I think you might be onto something.  I think we should give it a try and see if it works for us.  We are too good together to split up.  If you really can let me lead, we could be so much more.  It is electrifying to think about.  I’m not sure what I’m doing, and I won’t be perfect.  But, neither will you.  Let’s try this for thirty days and see how we feel.   Maybe you can write down some of your ideas for how this will go and we can go from there.”

And I did.

We just past thirty days.  And we’re still going.   There have been bumps, but we are more happy and connected than ever.  I am truly humbled…

-Pink

Why I Asked My Husband to Spank Me (The Story of Us, Part I)

Why I Asked My Husband to Spank Me (The Story of Us, Part I) My HoH (Let’s call him JP) is an extraordinary man.  he has overcome many personal and family struggles.  Growing up wasn’t easy and he wasn’t always on the right side of the law.  His family didn’t have a lot of money , his mother was very young, and his circle of friends were all troubled youth on unfortunate paths.

He turned his life around with a lot of hard work and dedication to achieve the life for his family that he envisioned as a child. He is now an Executive in Sales for a publicly traded company. He is good at his job, hardworking and loyal.  He is funny, smart and driven.  He is an excellent strategist who has done things without a college education that many people with Master’s Degrees (or more) wish to achieve.  I am very proud of this man.  He is an amazing father.  Our children are well cared for, provided for and always loved.

As a partner, my husband has grown leaps and bounds over the years.  With the addition of domestic discipline in our lives, I can’t even imagine how grand our partnership will be after ending the power struggle and growing together more.

On the other side, I am an extraordinary woman.  I am intelligent and funny, beautiful and sweet.  I have a passion for art and business; focusing on design, video and marketing.  I am passionate, sexual, devoted and deeply in love with JP. My childhood was quite different than his.  I grew up in a middle-class home, with both parents, and had very few struggles – a happy childhood.  My father was stern and could be somewhat mean at times, and yes…you all want to know, I was spanked as a child.  Most always, it was a corrective measure that I deserved. I am strong-willed and free-spirited.  I enjoy my creative spirit, but it isn’t always the most motivational and work-ethic oriented part of my personality.

I got married right out of high school (not to JP).  My ex is a nice guy, but I was too young and we just weren’t right for one another.  We have an amazing son together.

JP and I met when I was 21 years old.  We started dating less than a month before my 23rd birthday.  After about 6 weeks of dating, I discovered I was pregnant.  Wow.  Already having a 4 year old, about to have another baby.  I was white as a ghost the day I found out.  So was JP. He never once left my side or threatened to.  Even though we had been together less than 2 months, he wanted our baby and he wanted me.

After our son was born, we remained together and started building a life.  We fought.  We made up.  We fought, I went to my parent’s house.  We fought some more, we made up again.  We were going to get married 6 years ago.  However, due to a particularly large number of explosive (not violent) fights, I decided to leave.  I was fed up.  I had become combative and disrespectful.  He wasn’t nice, he was moody, and I was sure it was all his fault. He never let me go.  He fought hard to get me back promising to work on the things that were truly unacceptable.  And he did.  He really started to work at it.  But, I was bitter, pissed off and embarrassed.  He promised me at one point that he would spend the rest of his life trying to make me happy.

We got back together. Shortly thereafter, I was pregnant again.  I was miserable.  My career was anywhere but where I wanted it to be.  I wasn’t fulfilling my creative needs.  I was pregnant, again, at 28.  I was depressed.  It was a very hard 9 months.  But, JP stuck by me again.  He lifted me up and kept me from falling when I wanted to. Our daughter was born.  New fights about new things.  More fights.  More time at my parent’s house.  Leaving for a week at a time, only to realize 5 days into it each time that I couldn’t live without him.  I loved him so much. We talked a lot more.  We tried to just put things aside.  We were a couple, deeply in love, trying to hold onto our friendship that was dangling by a thread.

After being laid off a year and half ago, I decided it was time to focus on myself, my career and my focus in life.  I found it hard to be motivated, hard to clean the house, hard to get it together.  I wanted to be more organized, more productive and a better wife & mom. With a whole lot of support from JP and courage on my part, I broke out on my own and started my business.  It is still being built and I am still figuring myself out.  In doing this self-exploartion, there are the keys things I discovered about myself over the past year and a half.

-I lack self discipline; my easy-breezy attitude is fun and laid back, but not productive

-I have spending issues.  If I have $45.00, I will spend $46.00.  If I have $0, I will spend $8.00.  If I have $3000, I will spend $2,999 in one day.  These are silly examples, but you get the point.

-I need to be more organized and plan financially -I am incredibly talented and could use my talents more effectively if I had solid direction

-I hold our family back by procrastinating, overspending and not properly planning -JP works incredibly hard and I have to step up to his level in my own right to feel secure

-I need him, and our relationship problems are just as much my fault as his

So, I’m thinking, ‘Well, bummer.  I have all of these issues and no way to solve them.’  Meanwhile, my family CEO is entrenched in a bitter battle with the COO.  Two people, two very different people… both driving.  One of us was on the right path.  The other wasn’t and couldn’t admit it.

In the interest of self-preservation, I fought and deflected.  I yelled and pouted.  I stomped my feet, I cried my eyes out.  Did any of it help me be more productive?  How about more qualified to call the shots?  Did I feel like we were happy and unbreakable because of our power struggle?  NO.  Absolutely not.  I felt like I was failing and this relationship that had ten years of work behind it was crumbling.

So, we were in neutral…coasting down the highway of life in a nice car that wouldn’t drive.  Not one inch. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Call me a spanko, if you must.  I have always been drawn to the allure of discipline and corporal punishment.  Long before my teen years, the idea of a good, hard spanking was somehow (internally) undeniable.  In my 20’s,  I toyed with spanking in my relationships.  It was fun.  Not fulfilling. When JP and I met, our sexual attraction and sexual experiences were off the charts.  Throughout all of our struggles and bumps, our sex life was always AMAZING.  It kept getting better.  But it was still missing something (for me, anyway).  JP and I watch porn together sometimes.  But over the years, my fascination with BDSM erotica grew.  But it felt wrong.  It felt dark.  I was always wondering who these girls were…was this rape…, torture…, victims of human trafficking…?  Were they okay…?  Was there anything illegal going on behind the scenes…?  Who knows.

I hated that I was drawn to something that I didn’t understand.  If you are in to BDSM, I have NOTHING against you or your lifestyle, nothing at all.  Consensual activity between adults is great and I have no judgement to cast.  Personally, I think the core of DD is rooted in Dominance & Submission, in all honesty.  If it crosses over from just punishments at all – into the more fun, erotic parts…it all seems to head back to D/s.

I just found the material to be mostly arousing, but not quite hitting the mark. I started to dig deeper.  What was it about pain, dominance, submission and discipline?

The elements of discipline and spanking kept coming up, over and over again in my mind.  I craved it.  It made sense.  When someone is punished for a transgression, it feels like justice served and negates the need for anger and resentment.  When I watch someone being harshly punished strictly to inflict pain, it feels dark to me.

Not too long ago, I found a video that was very mild in relation to some that I had come across.  It depicted a woman that had spent too much on a shopping spree.  Her HoH sat her down and explained his frustration, adding that she would receive a spanking so that she would remember to never do tit again.  I loved it.  She didn’t look scarred or scared, he wasn’t angry.  This video was tagged with “domestic discipline.”  Next time I did a search, I found so much info and references, much more than any fantasy videos. Upon my search, I found hundreds of blogs related to the topic of DD and D/s (THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR BLOGS – THEY MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN PEOPLE’S LIVES).  There were podcasts, downloads and books.  There were stringent prescriptions for the lifestyle and those that encouraged couples to do what it was right for them. I couldn’t believe it.  There were people living their lives this way!! It was insane.  Impossible.  Deranged….Only for about 60 seconds.

When I got over my initial shock and fear of the lifestyle, it started to make sense.  One person in charge, the HoH.  He leads, I follow.  He makes the rules, I follow.  He needs to remind me to behave?  I obey.  I get a say in everything.  I also get more than that.  I get peace.  I get trust.  I get security.  I get consistency. I get to feel his control in the bedroom and out. His natural dominant tendencies are nurtured, my need for structure and discipline are met.  Enter masculinity and femininity – two innate characteristics that were previously wearing the masks of ambiguity and yelling at each other from underneath.

I read, I did research, I listened to podcasts…I absorbed as much as I could until I thought I might explode.  Realizing that this is what I wanted – the lifestyle that I needed and could stand behind was the most freeing and terrifying feeling ever. Thinking, ‘Oh, no.  You can’t tell JP.  He will think you are crazy.  Or deranged…both.  He will be afraid of what this life might lead to (gasp!)… a gateway lifestyle.  He won’t understand.  He can’t spank you! He isn’t allowed.  What would people think? Even if you wanted him to, when he does it playfully during sex, he feels like crap if he even thinks he hurt you.  He will feel so downgraded and helpless.’

Then there was me…’You mean to tell me you are going to listen to him every time?  When he spanks you or paddles you or canes you – are you going to be able to handle that?  What if you think you haven’t done anything wrong and he spanks you?  Are you going to punch him?  Will the control go to his head?  Will I soon be eating my meals in my bedroom after grabbing them out of a little slot he cuts outs of the door to you room which is now a dungeon?  Are you prepared to give up your identity?  EHHHHHGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!  SCREAMING!

Then I stopped.  I reassured myself.  I am an adult and I can consent to anything I want to!  Who cares what people think?  Are they living in your marriage?

I read some more.  I put a lot of thought into it.  A LOT.  It was a Wednesday.  I would wait until the weekend.  I would wait, figure out a plan and “come out” to him.  Only I wouldn’t…

He could see something was up.  He could tell I was distracted and nervous.  I told him it was a big deal and I wanted to wait until I knew what to say.  I said that it was something I was nervous about discussing and needed some time. He wasn’t having any of that.  He can barely wait until Christmas to open presents.  He wasn’t waiting to hear something epic that I was nervous to discuss.  I was rarely nervous about discussing anything.

I’m sure things were swirling in his head, like “JP, I am cheating on you,” or, “JP, I have decided that I was born as a woman, but I feel I should have been born a man.”  Or the classic – “JP – I have decided to move to Europe and sell my art on the street corner.  Will you please come with me?”

He started to get very frustrated, so I told him I had to take some notes to form my thoughts and that I would see him in an hour.  Yikes!  I had one hour to paint this picture in an honest and compelling way.  Ahhhh…luckily, I am an artist.  😉

TO BE CONTINUED….(Stay Tuned for Part II)

Brand Spanking New

So, I am new to this whole blogging thing. Well, as far as my personal life goes. I do it for work all the time. I decided to start writing because I keep a daily journal for my husband and I thought it would be good to share my experiences in a way that may be insightful or helpful to others.  This also allows us to record our successes and defeats so that we can continue to reflect back on our own history.

I have truly enjoyed and learned so much from reading the blogs that are painstakingly kept by the brave women and men who choose to document their DD lives. Even remaining anonymous, each author introduces a level of intimacy and vulnerability within their stories.  These blogs are published and subject to public and private scrutiny.  Each author presentd something on a level so personal, I find it to be inspirational and deeply humbling.  

Eventually, I hope to achieve being recognized as brave enough to share my honest story on this blog. In sharing; I wish to remain grounded, to cast aside personal judgement of others, to be emboldened by sharing my story and continuing to learn from the experiences of others.  

I have come across many blogs that I enjoy reading from genuine DD practitioners producing insightful material and thoughtful posts. These blogs may or may not be current or actively posted to.  Sometimes, months or years of active posts are then followed by…silence.  Sometimes, the authors pop back up, but more often, the blog remains dormant.  No explanation is offered.  I want to ask…

Did you get too busy?

Was the dynamic/lifestyle not for you?

Was blogging about your personal DD relationship too overwhelming for you or your partner?

Did you feel pressured by outsider (or insider) comments and views?

Were you “outed,” either publicly, or within your personal or private life?

Keeping up with a blog isn’t easy.  It’s not that I wish to impose on the authors of these “ghost blogs,” or even feel that the blogs/bloggers in question have a responsibility to notify the online community of any changes of heart, dissolved relationships, or that they have simply chosen to not continue their blog.  

My only fear is that people new to the life, or those considering it, may feel discouraged by the sudden drop-off of posts, or incorrectly assume that it isn’t working out for the authors of these blogs.  Since so few blogs are regularly maintained and kept for longer than a few years, it is difficult for an outsider to gauge whether or not the lack of maintenance of the blog is directly related to the relationship or dynamic not working.

To all of you seasoned bloggers out there and those who have been a part of the community and followed DD Blogs for some time… Do you feel that the lack of ongoing posts and abandoned DD blogs are more often than not a direct result of something other than the domestic discipline dynamic not working out?

I am highly encouraged by the revitalization that has been experienced in my life after choosing to live the DD life.

I hope to keep up with this blog as much as possible.  I promise this won’t be my last post.  😉

-Pink