Changing it up a Little

Change is good, right? Anne and I have decided that while we both have some time off for the holidays, we're going to make a few changes to our discipline routine. Anne's explicit goal is to increase the frequency of our disciplinary sessions, for reasons I will go into below.

As I've documented in previous posts, Anne's use of discipline the last year or two has been characterized by two trends: decreased frequency and increased severity. The former hasn't been an explicit goal. In fact, quite the opposite. The latter arises from a variety of factors, including:


(1) Less frequent sessions mean my bottom is often "fresh and new" with an absence of calluses and toughened skin, thereby making even routine spankings hurt as much as they did when we first started experimenting with disciplinary spankings

(2) Anne's ever increasing comfort with her own power and authority, along with an associated drop in her need to be "merciful"


(3) Changes in location and position. From this:




















To this:




More of our sessions are occurring in the basement, which leaves Anne less worried about someone hearing my howls and exclamations. As for positions, having me bend over the back of a sofa, instead of laying prone on the bed, has added a whole new level of discomfort for me. It seems to be a combination of my bottom being stretched tighter; the sofa back having less "give" and thereby less potential for absorbing part of the force of a hard swat; and, Anne seems to be able to wield certain tools, notably the bathbrush, with greater force and velocity.













A problem has arisen, however, from this combination of decreasing frequency and increasing severity. My bottom just can't take as much "abuse" with severe marking, with some breaking of the skin occurring. While some of that is expected from a true, hard punishment session, it is happening much earlier in the session than Anne would like. Moreover, it is happening early enough that Anne and I both feel like it is "getting me off the hook" and preventing the very long, extremely painful session that we both think I deserve right now.


So, Anne has set a goal of giving me more frequent paddlings, in order to toughen up a bottom that is currently much too delicate. We talked about what might accomplish that, and here is what we came up with. We decided to reverse our usual presumptions about when I should be disciplined.

Like most disciplinary couples, we have conducted the disciplinary aspect of our relationship under the premise that I am to be punished when I do bad things. One limitation of that approach is that it is highly dependent on the wife consistently delivering that discipline and being resolute in enforcing her will and punishing all infractions. For some reason, Anne has just never been able to consistently remember that she has an available recourse each and every time I do something bad and, as a result, lots of offenses go unpunished. Sometimes she just forgets and, instead, lets little irritants build up. Other times, I succeed in talking my way out of it or getting her to delay. So, in order to impose more discipline on ourselves in this process, we have decided that for the next few weeks, we are going to do a nightly assessment of my performance my day and, instead of the presumption being that I won't get spanked unless I have done something to earn one, our new operating presumption is that I will get a spanking that night (and every other night) unless Anne has been wholly satisfied with my behavior. It is only a slight change, I realize, but it really does flip the whole dynamic on its head. Instead of waiting for the right reason to order a spanking, our rule will be that it will happen unless there is a reason for it not to.

I admit to being more than a little concerned about the new process, but it should make for a lively holiday season in this house.

Christmas Spirit

With the meltdown in the economy, job uncertainty, and just the seemingly never ending fear and anxiety, I'm sure the above drawing pretty much sums up how many feel going into this holiday season. As I look back on 2008, this has, indeed been a very tough and unsettling year. While life is little unsettling at the moment, however, it is at this time of year that always try to remind myself of how good we have it. As we near the end of 2008, Anne and I still have our jobs, unlike many people who are getting layoff notices in their Christmas stockings. We have a roof over our heads. Everyone in our immediate family and most of our extended family members are relatively healthy. So, while the economic uncertainty keeps threatening to spoil my Christmas cheer, I am going to dedicate a lot of effort to spending the remainder of 2008 counting my blessings and reflecting on how good I have it. If I don't, I'm sure Anne is capable of dealing with the problem in a way that is appropriate for the season.

Public Spankings and Going to a Pro

Tony left the following comment, asking for advice. Anne has never spanked me in front of another person, nor has she sent me to a professional disciplinarian. I do not, therefore, have any first hand experience that would be helpful to Tony. I hope others will weigh in with advice:


"I’m in need of advice. Right now I’m in the process of getting my act together. I’ve been a F-up for the past year or more and have lost my girlfriend as a result. A good friend of mine suggested that I use a female disciplinarian to help get myself together. He told me that he knew of a woman that could help me. At first I thought the idea was bull, but the more I think about how I’ve F'd-up, the more I realize I need someone to answer to. My friend told me that he had been to her and she had given him a serious spanking with a few follow up ones that helped him change his ways. He said that, considering some of the things I’ve done, I needed to suffer a memorable consequence for my actions, otherwise things will never change.
“The first step begins with a sound spanking, and that’s something you more than deserve,” he told me.
I had to agree with him. I went to talk to this disciplinarian and pretty much confessed all that I had done. She replied by saying that the first order of business would be for me to strip nude for a long session with her strap in front of a few female onlookers. She said that the nature of some of my wrongs call for me to suffer some embarrassment as well as pain. I’m trying to imagine what it will be like being disciplined totally naked as other girls watch, and I don’t know if I could handle that much embarrassment or not. I’m also trying to adjust to the idea that my butt may end up looking like the picture you posted if I am strapped by her. She’s given me a couple of days to think it over. If there’s anyone who’s experienced something like this, please share your thoughts on what I should do and what it’s like to be publicly strapped by a no non-sense female.

Tony'

Black and Blue

Once again, it's been too long. It seems like I'm able to dodge and weave to get out of spankings more often that I used to, but when they do come, they are that much worse. Anne recently "tanned" my ass in a way that went way beyond turning my buns a pleasing shade of crimson. It's been almost a week, and I still have a very large black and purple swath where one my cheeks meets the upper thigh.

Work continues to be very stressful, and I have been bringing that stress home. Last Friday, I brought it and myself home a little late, after spending a little too much time commiserating with work friends about the lousy state of the economy, job insecurity, etc. I came home more than a little worse for wear.

Anne was not amused. Not at all.

We got along relatively well the next day, though I kept expecting her to tell me at any moment what I had coming and when to expect it. Even though we had the house to ourselves most of the day, it didn't happen. We put the kids to bed around 9:00 pm, and I hung out on the sofa in front of the television reading a book, while Anne puttered around upstairs. By 9:45, I was pretty sure that I was in the clear, because Anne was tired and I knew she would want to go to bed soon, and there wasn't time for a spanking followed by our usual post-punishment cuddling and love making. Right about the time I was congratulating myself on successfully avoiding a well-deserved thrashing, Anne came into the living room and looked at me squarely, hands on her hips:

"Well, you know what is about to happen, right?"

"Ah, Honey, it's getting late. You're tired. I'm tired. How about we put it off until tomorrow?'

"Don't give me that "ah Honey" nonsense. I know you are stressed, but I'm very sure I can help you handle that stress better. Now, get down to the basement, get my tools and get naked. And, just so you know, you're not getting any afterward. I'll be going to sleep, while you'll by laying down trying to sleep but unable to do so because your ass is hurting so much."

"But, Hon . . ."

"You're just making it worse. The longer you argue, the longer you're going to be "feeling my love." Get you butt down to the basement. NOW!"

I did as directed though very bitterly. I pulled her tools from their hiding place and was laying them out, when she came striding purposefully down the stairway.

"You're not even naked yet???"

"You didn't give me enough time. I was getting your equipment . . ."

"No, you just didn't do what I told you. When I tell you to move, you better do it fast. Don't worry about getting naked. Take off your shirt, so it's not in the way. Drop your pants to your ankles, and bend over the sofa. Now."

I scrambled to do as she ordered. Bent over the arm of the sofa, with my ass taut and elevated, I waited for the first strike. It didn't take long, and it was with her heavy strap. It was agonizing. I talked in my last post about how much more this position seems to hurt than laying on the bed, and it was true again this time. She gave me 15 hard, hard swats, then moved to the other side for another 15. Then back to the other side for another volley. She then switched to the bathbrush. That instrument always hurts, but bent over the sofa with Anne swinging it like a tennis racket . . . it was truly awful. Fortunately, I was once again "saved" by my ass marking quickly and nastily, in a way that lead Anne to keep the session relatively short. My poor bottom was, however, thoroughly beaten and blistered.

Anne was true to her word. Well, almost. She did go to bed, and it was very painful laying down beside her. But, in the end, she couldn't resist having a little more fun before falling asleep. She told me later that she really had intended to send me to bed without sex to add to the punishment, but exercising her power over me just left her too horny to wait until the next day.

The Right Combination

Well, the spanking did happen last night. It wasn't the worst I've had, but only because it was shorter than usual. In terms of intensity, if it wasn't the most painful I've had, it was in the top three. The difference seems to have simply the positioning. Almost all of our sessions occur with me on the bed, draped over some thick pillows. Unlike many people in the DWC lifestyle, we don't do OTK. Anne feels she can't swing as hard in that position.

We decided recently that we were going to move some sessions to the basement, which we did last night. I've been disciplined there on rare occasions in the past, but the positioning almost always involved me laying down on a sofa. Last night, instead of laying me down, Anne had me bend over the sofa's arm. The arm was relatively high, so bending over it put me in a position where I was on my toes, with by bottom stretched tighter than normal. And, because I was stretched tightly over an unyielding piece of furniture, unlike when I'm laying on the bed there was no "give" or bounce to help absorb or defuse some of the force.

She began with the leather strap. In this new position, it felt more like a paddle than a strap. The concussive force was significantly greater. I was howling by the time she was half-way through the 30 strokes she delivered. Then came the really awful combination of being bent over, buns taut and hiked in the air, and the bathbrush. The force of that instrument is always awful, but last night it was truly dreadful. I was in agony each time she came down. The upright position allowed her to swing it like a tennis racket, with a long arc resulting in a truly fearsome smack.

Thankfully, she was a little out of practice which usually results in her feeling more of a sense of mercy than is the case when she's been doing it regularly and often. It was a relatively short session, but I can still feel it as I write this almost 24 hours later.

It's For your Own Good

"It's for your own good." Words that by definition are spoken only when we're getting or about to get something that we don't want. I'm not positive, but I think Anne will be giving me something "for my own good" tonight. And, while I truly don't want it, I do probably need it.

I know that many in the spanking scene don't understand being in a lifestyle that you don't necessarily "want," especially when you are the one who asked for it. As I've tried to emphasize throughout this blog, however, for us spanking is a means, not an end. It's not meant to be erotic or kinky or sexual. It's not even really supposed to be about dominance or submission, although it has taken on those overtones a bit more in the last year. For us, it has always been about discipline. Disciplinary Wives Club style discipline. Give it to him until it really, really hurts style discipline.

As Anne has gotten more sure of herself, more into her own sense of herself, her spankings have become harder, more effective, more like a disciplinary spanking should be if it is to act as a true correcter of errant behavior. For that very reason, I dread them more and more, to the point sometimes of wanting to drop them entirely.

Yet, I also know that I won't stop, and that part of me needs boundaries. Boundaries imposed by another person. Needs the submission to another's authority. Needs to be taken to a point where I give up, release myself to another's control.

I get this way when I'm overworked and stressed out by the world around me. I'm in an industry that is melting down right along with other major segments of the economy. Although my own job is relatively safe, the same can't be said for others I know and care about. I've been bringing a lot of that stress home with me. Misbehaving and acting out in all sorts of ways. Anne sees it and has said several times in the last few days that I am "way overdue." Our schedules are relatively clear tonight. A part of me genuinely dreads what is likely coming, but a part of me desperately wants the submission and release.

I spent some time over the weekend reading the stories in the "real people" section of the DWC site. Four years after first discovering them, I still find myself morbidly fascinated by those stories in which the husband is reduced to a sobbing, blubbering mess by his disciplinary wife. That hasn't happened to us (yet). I can't get myself to a point of submission so deep that I stop trying to "take it like a man."

But, I want to. And, I don't.

Girl Talk

I'm curious? How many of you have told friends about your spanking activities? A couple of years ago, a very close friend to both Anne and me, Jenny, and I traded stories over a few drinks about our most risque sexual behavior. I told her that Anne disciplines me. After she got over the shock, she thought it was an interesting bit of kink, and she's always been a free spirit, so it was never a big deal. It was never mentioned between us again and, although Anne new I had told her, I was pretty sure it wasn't something they chatted about.

Last weekend, I had one of those "howl at the moon" Friday nights with the guys. I wasn't very worried about Anne's reaction, because discipline had really ground to a standstill over the summer. I was even thinking that maybe we both were tired of it and had decided to move on to another phase of our married life. On Saturday, Anne went to a ballgame with Jenny. (Yes, my wife is a raging sports nut, while I really couldn't care less about most most sports.) They spent a few hours hanging out, soaking up the sun at the arena and, I assumed, chatting about whatever it is women chat about when we're not there.

Late in the afternoon, I called Anne on her mobile to see whether the game was over. When she answered, I asked if it was over and what she was doing. "It's over. I'm catching a ride with Jenn back to her place to get the car," she replied. "She says "hi." I could hear Jenn's in the background yelling "Hey Reece -- you missed a great game."


"Tell her "hi" for me," I replied. "Are you hanging out over there or coming home soon?"

"I'm going to come home long enough to pick you up, then you're going to take me out to dinner. You owe me after coming in late last night."

"OK, you're right. I do owe you one."

"Oh, and sweetheart, after we get back from dinner, I am going to spank your bottom like it hasn't been spanked in a very long time. You aren't going to sit for a week."

Long silence on the phone. I absolutely could not believe that she had just said that with Jenn in car!!

"Jeez Anne . . ." I said, mortified.

"Oh, Jenn and I had a good old time today talking about how I spank your ass when you've been a bad boy. She knows you need it and, given that you're the one who blabbed it to her, you're hardly in a position to object if I tell her all about from a lady to lady perspective. Anyway, it doesn't really matter. I talked to her about it, and I'll tell anyone I want. See you in about 30 minutes."

We went out to dinner, and throughout the meal (and on the drive there), Anne teased and tortured me. "So, you're being quiet. Thinking about what I'm going to do to you? Good, you should be, because it is going to be bad." It was like that all through dinner and continued on the drive home. As soon we walked in the house, she ordered me to go upstairs and get things ready, while she got prepared.

Getting things ready meant laying out her favorite spanking toys, placing two thick pillows on the middle of the bed, and shedding all my clothes. She left me alone and naked for several minutes. When the door finally swung open, I was amazed at the sight. Anne in a black corset, black thong panties, and knee high leather boots. Now, we usually aren't into that kind of Femdom scene, but Anne had decided to spice it up a bit. Though I was standing to face her, she was actually gazing down at me sternly, courtesy of her tall spiked heels. "Well, get on the bed. Ass in the air" she commanded.

She whaled away at me. First one of my leather belts, then her prison strap, then the bathbrush. Oh my god, did that bathbrush ever hurt! It had been a very long time since I'd last felt it, and I was so tender. My bottom was on fire and I was groaning and on the verge of begging when she finally stopped.

I won't go into how the rest of the night went, other than to say that her new dominatrix persona was on full display as she ordered me to do everything she wanted. It was quite a night, and I may be in for a repeat session this weekend.

So, how many of you have outed yourself and your spankng or discpline lifestyle to someone else? Please tell all about it.