Don't underestimate me because I am quiet. I know more than I say, think more than I speak, and observe more than you know. Many versions of this quote have been around for a long time. Mickey would say it fits me to a tee. I am quiet. It is a part of my nature.
Here are a few of my own versions.
Don't underestimate my strength simply because my body is weak. I am stronger than I look, I have survived more than most, and I have helped more than you know. See the blog on Strength, from earlier this month.
Don't underestimate me because I smile. I know when you are lying, I hide my emotions well and there is more behind it than you see.
Don't underestimate me because I am generous. I give without expectation, I have known both wealth and poverty, and recognize when I am being used.
What would a version from you look like?
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Friday, January 29, 2016
Facing Our Truth
So what do you do? People look at me funny when I tell them that I am retired. I am too young to actually be retired in the sense that most people think. It is just easier for me to say that I am retired than to blurt out that I am disabled. Both are true though. I am very fortunate in that I do receive a retirement benefit and have a steady income. The fact that I am disabled has held me back from any sort of traditional *job* at this point in my life. If I am simply standing or sitting, others can't see that there is anything wrong with my body. I can stand for short periods of time on a good day. It is when I move, that the difference is apparent. So many times when I am in my wheelchair, I will be asked what is wrong with me. The question comes 9 times out of 10 from an older person. They look at me and wonder why someone as young and as healthy looking as I am, has to be in a wheelchair. Much of the time it is also from an older woman. The questions use to irritate the hell out of me.
If you haven't learned this about me yet from my blog, let me just say for the record, I question myself a lot! I question why I feel the way I do. Why I react a certain way, etc. So, eventually, I did question myself about why these questions irritated me so much. First, what I saw was that they were an invasion of my privacy. Oh, I had the choice on whether or not to answer them. I had the choice on how much information I gave them. I controlled the situation, so why was I still irritated by it?
The answer dawned on me when I was sitting on a plane and an older woman was brought in to sit next to me. She got all settled in, then turned to me and said, *You don't look disabled at all, what's wrong with you?* What some people don't know is that there is a place on the airplane set aside for the disabled that are travelling alone. This woman had seen me in my wheelchair as we waited to board. They put me on board first and then brought her in. My wheelchair gone, I look like everyone else. This woman was demanding of an answer. Her question seemed very judgmental to me. The plane didn't have any other passengers on it yet and would be a 3 hour flight. I was stuck next to this woman, up front so the flight attendants can get to us quickly, for at least the next 4 hours. In all honesty, she was the sweet old grandmother type and at least 80. But, she wanted an answer and it irritated me. I am not disrespectful and I wasn't then either. I politely told her that my legs were not as strong as even hers. She walked with a cane and had walked with aide from the waiting area and onto the plane. That explanation was not good enough for her. She did not have the best hearing, so everything I did say, I had to repeat at least once, louder. The conversation was ended before we got in the air. That is when the real answer to why the question irritated me, came to me.
The question forced me to face the *disability* head on. If I choose to have the conversation, it made me face myself and my physical limitations truthfully. I did not want to do that. On that plane, I compared myself to this elderly woman. She could physically do more than I could. She had walked in, so her legs were stronger. She had a very heavy purse which I couldn't pick up, so her arms were stronger. In that moment, I felt sorry for myself. Hell, I even wondered what *she* was doing in the handicapped section!
Facing our truths aren't always easy. It can be made tougher when we feel like something outside of ourselves is making us face that truth. I was receiving a lot of *inquiring minds want to know* requests and becoming irritated. Once I realized the why of it, I handled it better. I faced my truth in that area and came to better terms with it. Now, I can smile, laugh and in some cases educate another person, when those questions come.
Everyone's truth is different. We are all unique individuals with a wide range of things that are true about us. We choose who we share that with. We also choose how truthful we are with ourselves about it. I have found that in facing my truths, I also can decide to focus on either the negative or the positive side of that truth. What my mind dwells on is going to grow one way or the other. I could have continued feeling sorry for myself with all the *I can'ts*. Instead, I focused on the fact that I was able to travel alone, I had excellent people who took me to the plane, very attentive service while on the plane, wonderful people meeting me and helping me off the plane, special permissions given for all of those dropping me off and picking me up to be right at the gates to send me off and to pick me up. Every need was met, and so on. Strange thing about this event is that it was the last time I was allowed to travel alone. I am glad to have come to the realization that I did on that plane. Facing that one small part of my truth changed me for the better. So, even though it can be difficult, face your truth. See what good things you can find on the other side of the experience.
If you haven't learned this about me yet from my blog, let me just say for the record, I question myself a lot! I question why I feel the way I do. Why I react a certain way, etc. So, eventually, I did question myself about why these questions irritated me so much. First, what I saw was that they were an invasion of my privacy. Oh, I had the choice on whether or not to answer them. I had the choice on how much information I gave them. I controlled the situation, so why was I still irritated by it?
The answer dawned on me when I was sitting on a plane and an older woman was brought in to sit next to me. She got all settled in, then turned to me and said, *You don't look disabled at all, what's wrong with you?* What some people don't know is that there is a place on the airplane set aside for the disabled that are travelling alone. This woman had seen me in my wheelchair as we waited to board. They put me on board first and then brought her in. My wheelchair gone, I look like everyone else. This woman was demanding of an answer. Her question seemed very judgmental to me. The plane didn't have any other passengers on it yet and would be a 3 hour flight. I was stuck next to this woman, up front so the flight attendants can get to us quickly, for at least the next 4 hours. In all honesty, she was the sweet old grandmother type and at least 80. But, she wanted an answer and it irritated me. I am not disrespectful and I wasn't then either. I politely told her that my legs were not as strong as even hers. She walked with a cane and had walked with aide from the waiting area and onto the plane. That explanation was not good enough for her. She did not have the best hearing, so everything I did say, I had to repeat at least once, louder. The conversation was ended before we got in the air. That is when the real answer to why the question irritated me, came to me.
The question forced me to face the *disability* head on. If I choose to have the conversation, it made me face myself and my physical limitations truthfully. I did not want to do that. On that plane, I compared myself to this elderly woman. She could physically do more than I could. She had walked in, so her legs were stronger. She had a very heavy purse which I couldn't pick up, so her arms were stronger. In that moment, I felt sorry for myself. Hell, I even wondered what *she* was doing in the handicapped section!
Facing our truths aren't always easy. It can be made tougher when we feel like something outside of ourselves is making us face that truth. I was receiving a lot of *inquiring minds want to know* requests and becoming irritated. Once I realized the why of it, I handled it better. I faced my truth in that area and came to better terms with it. Now, I can smile, laugh and in some cases educate another person, when those questions come.
Everyone's truth is different. We are all unique individuals with a wide range of things that are true about us. We choose who we share that with. We also choose how truthful we are with ourselves about it. I have found that in facing my truths, I also can decide to focus on either the negative or the positive side of that truth. What my mind dwells on is going to grow one way or the other. I could have continued feeling sorry for myself with all the *I can'ts*. Instead, I focused on the fact that I was able to travel alone, I had excellent people who took me to the plane, very attentive service while on the plane, wonderful people meeting me and helping me off the plane, special permissions given for all of those dropping me off and picking me up to be right at the gates to send me off and to pick me up. Every need was met, and so on. Strange thing about this event is that it was the last time I was allowed to travel alone. I am glad to have come to the realization that I did on that plane. Facing that one small part of my truth changed me for the better. So, even though it can be difficult, face your truth. See what good things you can find on the other side of the experience.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Being Thankful
Have you ever stopped to think about the good things in your life? Sometimes we get so caught up in what's going wrong, that we overlook the things that are going right. There is so much to be thankful for. I heard a quote from somewhere that said..*what if we woke up tomorrow only having the things we were thankful for today?* Some of us would be in a world of hurt and NOT in a good way!
I am as guilty as everyone else. I don't consider myself a negative person at all. I do know that I can get stuck on the negative, completely missing the other side of things.
What is there to be thankful for in such a screwed up world? There is war, killing, poverty, prejudice, injustice, abuses...and more. I am not thankful for those things. I have said before that I desire to be part of the solution. What happens when those things come to roost in our own lives? How do we respond?
I am not about to be thankful for the disabled man who took one look at my partner, who asked him if he needed help and had the gall to say to her, that he didn't want help from a homosexual. He continued and basically told her to go to hell. Mickey, the woman of patience and wisdom that she is, replied to him.. "first, what ever possessed you to think I am a lesbian? My looks? I feel sorry for you that you refuse a helping hand from someone who is offering it, based on how they look. I hope you have a more pleasant day." And, she walked away. Can't say I would have been as polite. Mickey teaches me so much through word and action and for that I am very thankful. She gets the rude remarks and the dirty looks, way too often in my opinion. She has learned to handle them, most of the time, with a grace that makes me love her even more.
I am thankful for my partner in life. She is an amazing woman, strong, loving, gentle, caring, passionate, dominant, giving, generous, very much *out* as a lesbian and Top. She loves to spank me, as well as others. How can some one like me, not be thankful for that?
Sometimes we get caught up in needs that are not really needs. I *need* $20 so I can go to the movies with my friends. Okay, I will swap you that $20 for your next 20 hours of water to drink. Kind of a basic need. Water, air, shelter...
What about when it seems like everything in our life is going wrong? Don't have a job, didn't get the pay raise, or to really bring it straight to the heart - when we have come to the place where we feel worthless? I have been there. Wondering why I was even on this planet. The LAST thing I wanted was for any one to suggest to me to start thinking about what was *good* in my life. Dammit, in that place, I can't think of anything *good*! Not in that frame of mind. It takes hard work to bring yourself back from that dark mood place. I have seen too that it seems like a lot of others are ready to jump on the band wagon of negativity and depression. I am thankful for the people in my life that stand up to me, tell me the truth and present another opinion. Joining me in my pity party isn't going to help either one of us.
Some people will see the title of this entry and not even read it. There is something about thankfulness that turns people away. It is strange that when we need it most, we want little to do with it. Changing our thinking in those dark moments is not easy. I fight it. Sometimes it is like I would rather wade around in that yuck than listen to and practice a way out of it. There is no person reading this that can honestly say there is nothing to be thankful for. What are you thankful for?
I am as guilty as everyone else. I don't consider myself a negative person at all. I do know that I can get stuck on the negative, completely missing the other side of things.
What is there to be thankful for in such a screwed up world? There is war, killing, poverty, prejudice, injustice, abuses...and more. I am not thankful for those things. I have said before that I desire to be part of the solution. What happens when those things come to roost in our own lives? How do we respond?
I am not about to be thankful for the disabled man who took one look at my partner, who asked him if he needed help and had the gall to say to her, that he didn't want help from a homosexual. He continued and basically told her to go to hell. Mickey, the woman of patience and wisdom that she is, replied to him.. "first, what ever possessed you to think I am a lesbian? My looks? I feel sorry for you that you refuse a helping hand from someone who is offering it, based on how they look. I hope you have a more pleasant day." And, she walked away. Can't say I would have been as polite. Mickey teaches me so much through word and action and for that I am very thankful. She gets the rude remarks and the dirty looks, way too often in my opinion. She has learned to handle them, most of the time, with a grace that makes me love her even more.
I am thankful for my partner in life. She is an amazing woman, strong, loving, gentle, caring, passionate, dominant, giving, generous, very much *out* as a lesbian and Top. She loves to spank me, as well as others. How can some one like me, not be thankful for that?
Sometimes we get caught up in needs that are not really needs. I *need* $20 so I can go to the movies with my friends. Okay, I will swap you that $20 for your next 20 hours of water to drink. Kind of a basic need. Water, air, shelter...
What about when it seems like everything in our life is going wrong? Don't have a job, didn't get the pay raise, or to really bring it straight to the heart - when we have come to the place where we feel worthless? I have been there. Wondering why I was even on this planet. The LAST thing I wanted was for any one to suggest to me to start thinking about what was *good* in my life. Dammit, in that place, I can't think of anything *good*! Not in that frame of mind. It takes hard work to bring yourself back from that dark mood place. I have seen too that it seems like a lot of others are ready to jump on the band wagon of negativity and depression. I am thankful for the people in my life that stand up to me, tell me the truth and present another opinion. Joining me in my pity party isn't going to help either one of us.
Some people will see the title of this entry and not even read it. There is something about thankfulness that turns people away. It is strange that when we need it most, we want little to do with it. Changing our thinking in those dark moments is not easy. I fight it. Sometimes it is like I would rather wade around in that yuck than listen to and practice a way out of it. There is no person reading this that can honestly say there is nothing to be thankful for. What are you thankful for?
Need
Sitting here with so many things going through my mind. The subjects of discipline and spanking are a part of what I am thinking about. Having a need for spanking. Needing to know that someone else cares enough to take disciplinary measures with me. I have 2 in my life that do just that. It is the *need* that I am really thinking about. How can it be such a huge need? Where did it come from and why does it remain?
I know what many of the psychologists say about it. I think they are wrong. This thing that is so special and makes me feel so cared about and loved, did not come from the fact that I come from a history of abuse. It just didn't. The pain from that abuse has to go some place but it didn't go into the need for spanking. I was not physically abused. I was not spanked.
Others being spanked were all around me in my younger years. My sister was spanked by our mother pretty often when we were younger. Did I really pull that into myself as the way I would know that I was loved? The private school used paddling and I was aware of it. I watched my father spank my mother. I am sure they all had an effect on me. I had one therapist tell me once that because of how I grew up I connected pain with love.
Dammit! THAT is not right.
This *thing* that I love and need is bigger and deeper than that. I don't like pain. I have been described as a masochist in the past because I could take anything dished out in the percussive side of BDSM. My personal situation has changed and I haven't been able to do that, or even wanted to for 4 years. But, with spanking there is like there is this fever in me that goes higher and higher as the need for it grows. It is a physical feeling and it effects me emotionally. Going without a spanking for awhile effects my mood. Certainly, not in a good way.
I love being spanked. I love what it does to me. I love the closeness and the feel of skin on skin. I feel the safest laying over a lap waiting to be spanked. Just laying in that position has a huge effect on me emotionally. There is nothing abusive there for me. Not every spanking is meant to set my backside on fire either. There is a connection that happens. With Mickey, it is the deepest of all connections. There is also a change that takes place in me and I always come away from those times, changed for the better.
Being spanked centers me. When life and stress and stuff just gets in the way of my *ok-ness*, that spanking helps me think more clearly again. It helps me face it all more productively. I am not one who cries when being spanked. I am not certain that anyone can actually take me there. (No, this is not a challenge) I believe that it would take a huge overwhelming of my senses to actually take me to tears in a spanking.
The reason spanking remains a need in my life is because of what it does for me and how it makes me feel. As far as where it came from... I just don't know. I think some of us are just born like this.
I know what many of the psychologists say about it. I think they are wrong. This thing that is so special and makes me feel so cared about and loved, did not come from the fact that I come from a history of abuse. It just didn't. The pain from that abuse has to go some place but it didn't go into the need for spanking. I was not physically abused. I was not spanked.
Others being spanked were all around me in my younger years. My sister was spanked by our mother pretty often when we were younger. Did I really pull that into myself as the way I would know that I was loved? The private school used paddling and I was aware of it. I watched my father spank my mother. I am sure they all had an effect on me. I had one therapist tell me once that because of how I grew up I connected pain with love.
Dammit! THAT is not right.
This *thing* that I love and need is bigger and deeper than that. I don't like pain. I have been described as a masochist in the past because I could take anything dished out in the percussive side of BDSM. My personal situation has changed and I haven't been able to do that, or even wanted to for 4 years. But, with spanking there is like there is this fever in me that goes higher and higher as the need for it grows. It is a physical feeling and it effects me emotionally. Going without a spanking for awhile effects my mood. Certainly, not in a good way.
I love being spanked. I love what it does to me. I love the closeness and the feel of skin on skin. I feel the safest laying over a lap waiting to be spanked. Just laying in that position has a huge effect on me emotionally. There is nothing abusive there for me. Not every spanking is meant to set my backside on fire either. There is a connection that happens. With Mickey, it is the deepest of all connections. There is also a change that takes place in me and I always come away from those times, changed for the better.
Being spanked centers me. When life and stress and stuff just gets in the way of my *ok-ness*, that spanking helps me think more clearly again. It helps me face it all more productively. I am not one who cries when being spanked. I am not certain that anyone can actually take me there. (No, this is not a challenge) I believe that it would take a huge overwhelming of my senses to actually take me to tears in a spanking.
The reason spanking remains a need in my life is because of what it does for me and how it makes me feel. As far as where it came from... I just don't know. I think some of us are just born like this.
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Impulse
I sometimes have a very impulsive nature. My partner would likely respond to that with, "REALLY, ya think?" At least my intentions are good ones for the most part. I am guilty of having an idea and running with it. Only later, bringing the people around me up to speed on it. I did just that last night, with an idea I had. I did finally slow myself down and completely fill my partner in on everything. Which she was agreeable to, by the way. She thought my idea was a pretty good one and wished that she had been brought in at the start of it, or even told first, instead of brought in at the middle. I do the same thing with conversations with her so much of the time. I will be thinking about something and having a conversation in my head. Sort of weighing the pros and cons of it, or some such thing. Then, I will start talking to her about it. I can't put a number on how many times she has stopped me as I was speaking and asked me if I could bring her in at the start of the conversation. lol. She laughingly reminds me that she wasn't present at the beginning of the conversation because it was in my head!
Impulse can get a little crazy. I do impulse shop. When I am shopping I will fill the cart with things that catch my eye. I am certain at that moment that I want them. Then, thankfully for our budget, about two aisles later I will take that thing out of the cart and lay it on a shelf somewhere. Deciding then that it is not something that I really need. I am likely one of the stock-person's worse nightmares. I don't mean to do it. I probably could retrace my steps and return the item where I found it. But, I don't. It also doesn't matter what sort of store it is either, gift shop, grocery store, department store... you name it, I have done it! If I think I want it, I just can't resist that urge to put it in the cart right then. Luckily for me, once that urge and impulse has died down and I look at the item again, I can talk myself out of it. *I don't really need it, Next month I will have more money, I might find it for a better price, If I wait, the money could go toward something else I want, How many T-shirts does one girl need?, etc.* (I confess, I have a t-shirt collection) I have an elephant collection as well. What I don't have is a t-shirt with an elephant on it, lol! Maybe it is time for a shopping trip?
Thinking a little about the ID, Ego & Super Ego. That sort of plays out in my shopping style. The impulse of thinking I just *need* that thing right now, figuring out how to meet that need by tossing the item in my basket and then talking myself out of it. (or talking sense into myself)
Impulse is a sudden strong, and unreflective urge or desire to act. Not stopping to think it through. When that impulse is for wanting a thing, then instant gratification shows up. That is what I feel when I toss that item in my basket. When I talk myself out of it, a lot of the times it isn't a *no* to myself. It is more of a *wait*. Delayed gratification. Yes, I am going somewhere with this.
Delayed gratification is defined as the ability to resist the temptation for an immediate reward and wait for a later reward. Generally delayed gratification is associated with resisting a smaller but more immediate reward in order to receive a larger or more enduring reward later. A lot of things have been written about and studied that shows, having the ability to delay gratification can lead to a lot of other positive outcomes in a person's life. Like, academic success, physical and psychological health. (this is a sort of paraphrase of a definition) What it shows me is that learning to rein in our/my impulses can have a very positive effect. Consider, that cupcake that sure seems to be screaming for you to purchase and eat it. Controlling that impulse can sure add to better physical well-being. Staying in and doing the required assignment and resisting the urge to go out to the party is or should help the grades improve.
Controlling our impulses, learning to control them doesn't end with childhood. For some people, they actually have a disorder that impedes them from controlling impulses. Most of us don't have that problem. We have the ability to control the impulse, even if like in my case it comes a little later than I would like. When we don't rein in some of our impulses we can cause serious harm to ourselves and to others. To me, it all comes back to self discipline. A continuous teaching of myself. I am fortunate to have others in my life that have no problem helping me rein in those impulses and exercise discipline when I fall short. Friends and family around us can be great teachers and role models of impulse control. You don't have to be in a D/s or spanking relationship to grow in your impulse control. Even in a relationship where I am disciplined, if I don't want to change, grow, learn, I am not going to. I believe that if you want it (better impulse control) you can have it! Takes a wanting to, the willingness and practice. Simple, right?
Impulse can get a little crazy. I do impulse shop. When I am shopping I will fill the cart with things that catch my eye. I am certain at that moment that I want them. Then, thankfully for our budget, about two aisles later I will take that thing out of the cart and lay it on a shelf somewhere. Deciding then that it is not something that I really need. I am likely one of the stock-person's worse nightmares. I don't mean to do it. I probably could retrace my steps and return the item where I found it. But, I don't. It also doesn't matter what sort of store it is either, gift shop, grocery store, department store... you name it, I have done it! If I think I want it, I just can't resist that urge to put it in the cart right then. Luckily for me, once that urge and impulse has died down and I look at the item again, I can talk myself out of it. *I don't really need it, Next month I will have more money, I might find it for a better price, If I wait, the money could go toward something else I want, How many T-shirts does one girl need?, etc.* (I confess, I have a t-shirt collection) I have an elephant collection as well. What I don't have is a t-shirt with an elephant on it, lol! Maybe it is time for a shopping trip?
Thinking a little about the ID, Ego & Super Ego. That sort of plays out in my shopping style. The impulse of thinking I just *need* that thing right now, figuring out how to meet that need by tossing the item in my basket and then talking myself out of it. (or talking sense into myself)
Impulse is a sudden strong, and unreflective urge or desire to act. Not stopping to think it through. When that impulse is for wanting a thing, then instant gratification shows up. That is what I feel when I toss that item in my basket. When I talk myself out of it, a lot of the times it isn't a *no* to myself. It is more of a *wait*. Delayed gratification. Yes, I am going somewhere with this.
Delayed gratification is defined as the ability to resist the temptation for an immediate reward and wait for a later reward. Generally delayed gratification is associated with resisting a smaller but more immediate reward in order to receive a larger or more enduring reward later. A lot of things have been written about and studied that shows, having the ability to delay gratification can lead to a lot of other positive outcomes in a person's life. Like, academic success, physical and psychological health. (this is a sort of paraphrase of a definition) What it shows me is that learning to rein in our/my impulses can have a very positive effect. Consider, that cupcake that sure seems to be screaming for you to purchase and eat it. Controlling that impulse can sure add to better physical well-being. Staying in and doing the required assignment and resisting the urge to go out to the party is or should help the grades improve.
Controlling our impulses, learning to control them doesn't end with childhood. For some people, they actually have a disorder that impedes them from controlling impulses. Most of us don't have that problem. We have the ability to control the impulse, even if like in my case it comes a little later than I would like. When we don't rein in some of our impulses we can cause serious harm to ourselves and to others. To me, it all comes back to self discipline. A continuous teaching of myself. I am fortunate to have others in my life that have no problem helping me rein in those impulses and exercise discipline when I fall short. Friends and family around us can be great teachers and role models of impulse control. You don't have to be in a D/s or spanking relationship to grow in your impulse control. Even in a relationship where I am disciplined, if I don't want to change, grow, learn, I am not going to. I believe that if you want it (better impulse control) you can have it! Takes a wanting to, the willingness and practice. Simple, right?
Monday, January 25, 2016
Fun Spankings vs Punishment Spankings
Fun vs punishment.... In other words, how do you punish someone who likes spanking, with a spanking? If you are a bottom like I am, you know that there is a big difference. In fun there is usually a lot less emotions that are real. (for me anyway) There can even be laughter through out the whole thing from both the Spanker and the spankee. The offenses are made up even if the role play is totally serious. There is just a completely different mindset. The release a fun spanking can bring is wonderful as well. It can do so much for both involved. It can draw them closer. It can release stress for both. Even though it can also be quite a work-out for both, it can be invigorating. It can bring a *high* with it. Fun spankings between Mickey and I have even cleared the air so to speak. It renews our bond. Bottom-line. It is Fun!
Punishment on the other hand - whole different mindset. In a punishment session, the emotions are so very real, (for me). So much so, that if I am scolded in any way, it brings a huge humbling inside of me. Mickey has given me a couple of spankings that were punishment in nature. Actually only one comes to mind and it was when I decided to stop taking all of my medications. I was just sick and tired of taking about 25 pills a day. It made sense to me to just stop and not tell anybody. I was feeling *ok* so I convinced myself I didn't need them. I think a lot of us think like that... we don't want to do something so we convince ourselves that we really don't need to. Definitely, the wrong choice for me. I did not tell Mickey any of this. The subject came up later, after I had started retaking them. I no longer remember how it came up or the circumstances around it. I told her that I had stopped taking my meds for awhile. I wasn't even thinking it was a bad thing. I was immediately questioned. ( Whatever we had been talking about went right out the window.) * Are you taking them all now? Are you taking them properly? When did this happen? What in the hell made you think it was ok? Do you realize the health risk you took? Do you know you could have died!!?* I heard her tone filled with concern and so serious. There was no anger, no raised voice, not even a sternness. For me it was all just matter-of-fact. THEN, she got silent. I mean completely, silent. I watched her and she wouldn't even look at me. That's when it hit me that I was in trouble here. I am not sure exactly what I said but it was to the effect of, *I am in big trouble, aren't I?* She told me that I was and that she was far to angry to continue the conversation at that moment. She stayed emotionally distant from me and pretty much completely silent for at least two days. Inside of me, anxiety grew, the knowledge that I had made a very wrong choice for myself in stopping my meds grew, guilty feelings grew, it was bad, all bad. It was like the next day that she then also made me tell my Mistress who was still in my life then. She was in Spain at the time and I was told to phone her and tell her as well what I had done. Thank God, she was in Spain. I had never been in real trouble much with either of them. Stefany was 100% Italian and boy did she yell! I was chewed out in multiple languages. She was so angry she was jumping from English to French to Italian. Yes I understood. She told me she wanted to ground me to my room for a week with absolutely nothing and no contact with anyone, not friends, not her, not Mickey..no electronics, no books, no writing implements, just me and me thinking about what I had done. All of that of course after she had beaten me bloody! Her words, not mine. I got an earful and was told that I would be getting the spanking of my life. (She ended up staying in Spain and I never saw her face to face again.) She and Mickey talked as well and that conversation took place well out of my hearing range. After that conversation is when I started becoming afraid. Not of the spanking. I was afraid I had been so bad that they both were going to have nothing more to do with me. I wanted Mickey to spank me by then. I knew it would not be fun or easy. I felt so bad inside, I just wanted the brokenness that I felt to be dealt with and healed. I had failed them by not taking care of myself. I was given one day like I described above and it was excruciating for me. After that is when Mickey started talking to me again. I was assured that I was still loved and wanted and would be spanked. It was all matter-of-factly told to me. The scolding and spanking would come later. And it did. This is where spanking for fun, playing spanking, takes a whole different turn for someone who loves to be spanked. Mickey scolding me brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't in any way adequately tell her how sorry I was. I was paddled with no warm up, with a large wooden paddle that actually says on it *Crie Adjuster* A paddle I had made for her but sure hated having it used. It was directly on the bare and it hurt like hell. There was nothing playful or fun in that for either one of us. I think that some people wouldn't even consider it an actual punishment spanking. But, it was. The punishment was in all of it. That time that was close to three days had just as much to do with the spanking, the punishment and I learned my lesson for sure.
A spanking for punishment works differently than one for fun. Everything about it is different. Even the demeanor of the two involved, is different. I actually want punishment spankings when I am being corrected. No matter what the correction actually is. Correction in my life is more verbal, time-out, and writing... when it is finished, it is a spanking from Mickey that again seals the bond, draws me to her and for me, brings an end to the punishment. When she is not happy with me or something I have done, the spanking after whatever the correction or punishment actually was, is brought to an end by the spanking. My world is ok again, I have been forgiven and I am loved. Maybe it is strange that we don't see these as punishment spankings. It's just the way it works for us. I rarely ever cry and that is not a sign on whether or not it was a punishment
Someone who loves spankings knows the difference between what is fun and what is punishment. I was given a punishment spanking by Miss Jenn. It was not administered harshly. It came from a place of care, concern and love. I was being punished and knew I was being punished. I was angry and hating it most of the time and I am the one who loves spankings.
Talk to your Top (or your bottom) about what the difference is for the two of you. Find out what works for you both. Again, communicate :)
Punishment on the other hand - whole different mindset. In a punishment session, the emotions are so very real, (for me). So much so, that if I am scolded in any way, it brings a huge humbling inside of me. Mickey has given me a couple of spankings that were punishment in nature. Actually only one comes to mind and it was when I decided to stop taking all of my medications. I was just sick and tired of taking about 25 pills a day. It made sense to me to just stop and not tell anybody. I was feeling *ok* so I convinced myself I didn't need them. I think a lot of us think like that... we don't want to do something so we convince ourselves that we really don't need to. Definitely, the wrong choice for me. I did not tell Mickey any of this. The subject came up later, after I had started retaking them. I no longer remember how it came up or the circumstances around it. I told her that I had stopped taking my meds for awhile. I wasn't even thinking it was a bad thing. I was immediately questioned. ( Whatever we had been talking about went right out the window.) * Are you taking them all now? Are you taking them properly? When did this happen? What in the hell made you think it was ok? Do you realize the health risk you took? Do you know you could have died!!?* I heard her tone filled with concern and so serious. There was no anger, no raised voice, not even a sternness. For me it was all just matter-of-fact. THEN, she got silent. I mean completely, silent. I watched her and she wouldn't even look at me. That's when it hit me that I was in trouble here. I am not sure exactly what I said but it was to the effect of, *I am in big trouble, aren't I?* She told me that I was and that she was far to angry to continue the conversation at that moment. She stayed emotionally distant from me and pretty much completely silent for at least two days. Inside of me, anxiety grew, the knowledge that I had made a very wrong choice for myself in stopping my meds grew, guilty feelings grew, it was bad, all bad. It was like the next day that she then also made me tell my Mistress who was still in my life then. She was in Spain at the time and I was told to phone her and tell her as well what I had done. Thank God, she was in Spain. I had never been in real trouble much with either of them. Stefany was 100% Italian and boy did she yell! I was chewed out in multiple languages. She was so angry she was jumping from English to French to Italian. Yes I understood. She told me she wanted to ground me to my room for a week with absolutely nothing and no contact with anyone, not friends, not her, not Mickey..no electronics, no books, no writing implements, just me and me thinking about what I had done. All of that of course after she had beaten me bloody! Her words, not mine. I got an earful and was told that I would be getting the spanking of my life. (She ended up staying in Spain and I never saw her face to face again.) She and Mickey talked as well and that conversation took place well out of my hearing range. After that conversation is when I started becoming afraid. Not of the spanking. I was afraid I had been so bad that they both were going to have nothing more to do with me. I wanted Mickey to spank me by then. I knew it would not be fun or easy. I felt so bad inside, I just wanted the brokenness that I felt to be dealt with and healed. I had failed them by not taking care of myself. I was given one day like I described above and it was excruciating for me. After that is when Mickey started talking to me again. I was assured that I was still loved and wanted and would be spanked. It was all matter-of-factly told to me. The scolding and spanking would come later. And it did. This is where spanking for fun, playing spanking, takes a whole different turn for someone who loves to be spanked. Mickey scolding me brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't in any way adequately tell her how sorry I was. I was paddled with no warm up, with a large wooden paddle that actually says on it *Crie Adjuster* A paddle I had made for her but sure hated having it used. It was directly on the bare and it hurt like hell. There was nothing playful or fun in that for either one of us. I think that some people wouldn't even consider it an actual punishment spanking. But, it was. The punishment was in all of it. That time that was close to three days had just as much to do with the spanking, the punishment and I learned my lesson for sure.
A spanking for punishment works differently than one for fun. Everything about it is different. Even the demeanor of the two involved, is different. I actually want punishment spankings when I am being corrected. No matter what the correction actually is. Correction in my life is more verbal, time-out, and writing... when it is finished, it is a spanking from Mickey that again seals the bond, draws me to her and for me, brings an end to the punishment. When she is not happy with me or something I have done, the spanking after whatever the correction or punishment actually was, is brought to an end by the spanking. My world is ok again, I have been forgiven and I am loved. Maybe it is strange that we don't see these as punishment spankings. It's just the way it works for us. I rarely ever cry and that is not a sign on whether or not it was a punishment
Someone who loves spankings knows the difference between what is fun and what is punishment. I was given a punishment spanking by Miss Jenn. It was not administered harshly. It came from a place of care, concern and love. I was being punished and knew I was being punished. I was angry and hating it most of the time and I am the one who loves spankings.
Talk to your Top (or your bottom) about what the difference is for the two of you. Find out what works for you both. Again, communicate :)
Sunday, January 24, 2016
A Quote
I found this quote in an interview with Miss Chris : "I particularly enjoy taking a spankee on a tour of land and prospects they wouldn’t be able to explore with anyone else. I like to say I’m the Tour Guide through Hell, I can take you there, as deeply as you want to go, help you navigate while you’re there, and then lead you back out into the world a better, and stronger person."
I know that sometimes there is what is almost like a love/hate relationship with spankings. The wanting and the need is there. The build up while waiting for it is filled with so many different feelings. The preparation can be thrilling and anxiety filled. The ritual of going over the lap, the raising of the skirt and rolling down of the panties. Then there is the actual spanking. It might start off soft and easy or hot and hard. Either way, it often builds up to a level of pain that sometimes we don't think we want any more. It hurts! I have been over a lap or two where I have wondered how I got myself into this and promised repeatedly that I would never ever do it again. Pretty much hating it as it gets more painful. When it is done and over with - there is a release. For me, very often a centering. My world is okay again. Whatever was going on prior to the spanking, is now different.
I had never thought of it quite in the way that Miss Chris described. A spanking partner or a Disciplinarian, can really do that with the one they are spanking. They have so much responsibility placed on them. They have to watch us, read our body language, watch the skin, the whole time, enjoying themselves as well. After all, would they really do it if they didn't enjoy it? Don't get me wrong, as the one being spanked, we are not off the hook in the responsibility department. We are responsible for our well-being emotionally and physically. Someone spanking us may say something unknowingly that triggers us in a bad way. We have to own that and communicate that with the Top. I will never be able to emphasis enough how important communication is. More than that, it has to be honest, open communication. There are somethings that we just don't want to share. Whether it is from embarrassment or shame or something else, all I can say is SAY it anyway. If you are preparing for a spanking, especially with a new person, be honest! They are Tops, not mind-readers. They can take us on an unforgettable journey and hopefully we want it to be a very nice one when we have reached the end.
I believe that a Disciplinary Spanker who takes on a bottom, does exactly what Miss Chris is describing. Whether it is one session or many, if it is for discipline specifically, there is a type of journey that can take place. Looking at those places where guilt has risen. Being scolded for specific things. Spanked for specific real life offenses. Standing in the corner or writing lines. There is a purpose in it. The result so much of the time is the release of so much pent up emotion and guilt. On the other side of the session emerges a person who is a little different, changed, stronger, lighter, freer, etc.
I know that sometimes there is what is almost like a love/hate relationship with spankings. The wanting and the need is there. The build up while waiting for it is filled with so many different feelings. The preparation can be thrilling and anxiety filled. The ritual of going over the lap, the raising of the skirt and rolling down of the panties. Then there is the actual spanking. It might start off soft and easy or hot and hard. Either way, it often builds up to a level of pain that sometimes we don't think we want any more. It hurts! I have been over a lap or two where I have wondered how I got myself into this and promised repeatedly that I would never ever do it again. Pretty much hating it as it gets more painful. When it is done and over with - there is a release. For me, very often a centering. My world is okay again. Whatever was going on prior to the spanking, is now different.
I had never thought of it quite in the way that Miss Chris described. A spanking partner or a Disciplinarian, can really do that with the one they are spanking. They have so much responsibility placed on them. They have to watch us, read our body language, watch the skin, the whole time, enjoying themselves as well. After all, would they really do it if they didn't enjoy it? Don't get me wrong, as the one being spanked, we are not off the hook in the responsibility department. We are responsible for our well-being emotionally and physically. Someone spanking us may say something unknowingly that triggers us in a bad way. We have to own that and communicate that with the Top. I will never be able to emphasis enough how important communication is. More than that, it has to be honest, open communication. There are somethings that we just don't want to share. Whether it is from embarrassment or shame or something else, all I can say is SAY it anyway. If you are preparing for a spanking, especially with a new person, be honest! They are Tops, not mind-readers. They can take us on an unforgettable journey and hopefully we want it to be a very nice one when we have reached the end.
I believe that a Disciplinary Spanker who takes on a bottom, does exactly what Miss Chris is describing. Whether it is one session or many, if it is for discipline specifically, there is a type of journey that can take place. Looking at those places where guilt has risen. Being scolded for specific things. Spanked for specific real life offenses. Standing in the corner or writing lines. There is a purpose in it. The result so much of the time is the release of so much pent up emotion and guilt. On the other side of the session emerges a person who is a little different, changed, stronger, lighter, freer, etc.
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