Sunday, September 30, 2012

Abhorrent Predilections

I read DD blogs, D/s blogs, the occasional sex blog (okay, only if it has D/s. I'm terribly biased), in short--I have been known to find myself all over the place in Blogland. Especially given the time to do so, which admittedly, hasn't been much lately.

But I have noticed some rather prevalent thoughts and comments on the occasional DD blog--the thought that sadism and BDSM in general are unhealthy predilections and those who participate (or are seen as doing so by the occasional judgmental commenter), are mentally unhealthy people.

 Being the freaky thing that I am, I find these kinds of statements rather irritating.

Inevitably, the Blogger will come to the defense of themselves or their significant other, "He (I), am not a sadist! It is inconceivable to be seen that way!"
And that's fine, no one really wants to be seen as something they aren't (okay, well a fair amount of people do, but only when it comes to something they conceive of as being a good thing). And we are all certainly prone to defend ourselves and our loved ones. Especially when our relationship is good.

The thing is, such defenses seem to only compound the belief that sadomasochism and D/s are bad things--as if pain and the taking and giving of power are only acceptable in a disciplinary format.

I'm not dissing on DD or the people who practice it--whatever floats the boat. If it works for you and your marriage, more power to you! It's a wonderful thing. And I find that many of the DD blogs I read exhibit an amount of humor that leaves me grinning from ear to ear.

Sometimes it just looks like people see DD as pure, whereas BDSM is some abhorrent predilection to be grouped with rapists and people of poor moral ilk.

Just because someone likes to spank his wife, does not make him a controlling sadist. And even if he is, so what?
There's a difference between the controlling sadist and the abusive jerk. Promise. That's not to say that the two are mutually exclusive, just that one does not automatically equal the other.

I do not see BDSM in general as an unhealthy predilection. Though I can see how it could be for some people. The thing is? Those people have bigger issues that they choose to express through BDSM.

I have fantasies that make even Alpha raise his eyebrows, and ones that make me cringe to admit to him. I enjoy things that some people probably find quite abhorrent.
But I will be the first person to haul someone's kid out of the street, help an abused woman find a new life, and promote death by beating for child molesters.
People give me the keys to their homes because they know they will never have to doubt the safety of their houses and the things in them.

Alpha undoubtedly has a sadistic streak. But he will be the first person to step in if he thinks someone is being abusive to a woman, child, or animal. He will (sometimes rather unfortunately), give almost anyone a second chance and a hand up (as long as they weren't guilty of one of the above infractions).

We are what we are. And just because some of us like our canvas painted with slightly different colors, does not mean that one wide brush can paint us all as having abhorrent predilections.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Bad Ideas

"You missed a couple of rules there babe."

"Umm, are you absolutely positive? Because I'm pretty sure that's all of them..."

"What are you supposed to do every morning before you get out of bed?"

"This was clearly a bad idea."

"Oh no, it's a great idea."

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Punishment Book

You know how sometimes you have an idea, and that brain-to-mouth filter (amazingly), kicks in, and tells you that it's really not a good idea? Then you sit on it for a while but it keeps coming back until one day, against your better judgement, you tell them your idea?

I started the sentence around four days ago. I actually finished it yesterday.
He raised his eyebrows, asked me quietly if I knew exactly what that would mean, and then proceeded to tell me that ideas were like a can of worms--once opened there's no shoving them back in, and no I couldn't take it back.


Here's the thing though--I have rules (reasonable rules at that)...And a really crappy short term memory. So I forget things...And he doesn't want to spend all his time monitoring me. Then I feel like he doesn't care if I do as I'm told or not. Then I forget again and he feels like I don't even try. And and and...

So, against my brain's better judgement, my mouth opened and raised the idea of a rule book. Okay, not so much a rule book, as a punishment book. Yes, I'm slightly obsessed with books, and said obsession might have expressed itself in a rather dangerous way lol.

His response was, "You realize that means you will be responsible for making a note every time you break a rule, and bringing the list to me?" Ummm...Crap. "Yes, I realize that. Can I take it back now?" He laughed at me! "No, you may not take it back."

So I found a notebook...And he said he didn't think it was big enough (plenty big enough for the rules, there's not that many, but a little small for listing transgressions). Apparently he had something more along the lines of a ledger...

I am so screwed. And as usual, I did it to myself!
Damn malfunctioning brain-to-mouth filter.

Monday, September 24, 2012

A Formspring and Other Random Things

Someone asked me a question via Formspring about Thing1 and Thing2.
No, they are not my children. They are Alpha's little sisters. Given circumstances and the age difference, he pretty much raised them himself.
I wondered if I should put up a cast of characters on the sidebar...But then I decided that I will not admit to bitching about them that much lol.

Now on to other random things...

Apparently, it is easy to be pleasantly surprised when one has low expectations. Fil actually showed up to the kiddo's soccer game.

Looking at them standing together, something struck me that I had not noticed in the previous fourteen years--while he has a smaller body mass, Alpha is actually taller than his father.
Seeing him standing back on his heels with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders noticeably lacking the particularly raised and tight formation they usually have in his father's presence, I realized that, while he has always been Dominant, I am not the only one our power exchange has changed.

Alpha has nothing left to prove. He is who he is. Anything he had to prove, he has done so for himself regardless of anyone else's acknowledgement or realization.
And he's not just taller than his father--he really and truly is a bigger man with a sense of self acceptance that I have often envied over the years. Yet, he extends that same acceptance to me.

And I find myself eternally grateful for this man who entered my life and took me away from the downward spiral that I had happily thrown myself into
who provided for me long before I had a concept of what it was to provide for oneself

who, when I left him, haunted my dreams until I returned
and believed in me long after I quit believing in myself

this man who let me go years later, so that I could return to him of my own volition and become his property
who tells me I'm brilliant and when to shut up

this man with huge hands who gently brushes the hair out of my face and kisses my forehead

who ties me to the bed and treats me like a filthy whore

this man who values my opinions and still tells me what to do
who is both arrogant and humble

this man who chained me down so that I could be free and who has consistently forced me to be...Me.

I am grateful. Because he has always been there for me.
They say that submission is a gift--Alpha tells me that it is anyways. And chances are, he's right.
But I am deeply grateful for the gift of his Dominance. I am extremely proud, not only of the man he is, but of the Dominant he has become.

So there you have it my love--your disagreeable one is not so secretly head over heels in love with you.
Even if it was somewhat disappointing that you wouldn't admit to having a crush on me because your wife wouldn't approve. lol.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Transcending the Blueprint

I believe that sometimes we very much become what we have learned to be. And it can be rather difficult to get beyond that. That's not always a bad thing. It just depends on what we have learned.

I think that one of the reasons I crave D/s and the closeness that comes with it is because of the way it helps me to step outside of the bonds of physical reality and into the one we create for ourselves.

In 1960, Maxwell Maltz proposed that,

"We all carry with us a mental blueprint or picture of ourselves. It has been built up from our own beliefs about ourselves. But most of these beliefs about ourselves have unconsciously been formed from our past experience, our successes and failures, our humiliations, our triumphs, and the way other people have related to us, especially in early childhood. From all these we mentally construct a "self" (or a picture of a self). Once an idea or a belief about ourselves goes into this picture it becomes "true" as far as we personally are concerned. We do not question its validity, but proceed to act upon it just as if it were true."

I do find it a bit odd to be posting quotes from a plastic surgeon/self help author. Still, I found it and thought that it was an interesting concept lol.

It's an interesting concept to me because of what happens in those moments when I step away from that blueprint.

As a client observed yesterday, I have a pretty firm grasp of who I am (by this point in life I kinda think I damn well should). But that grasp is often defined by circumstances and what we think ourselves to be.

I don't think that our blueprint is necessarily a bad thing--it gives us an individual basis for existence and makes us unique. Our blueprint helps us function and define who we are within the context of the world.

By the same token, we see the world through the veil of our own beliefs--the thoughts and ideals that we have formed over time.

BDSM, that deep space and connection formed when Dominating and submitting, helps me to transcend that blueprint. I also believe that D/s helps us change the basics of that blueprint.
In those moments of submission is when I leave the blueprint behind and simply exist as I am--without those preconceived notions of who I am and how things are or should be.

In that space we create, all previous ideas and ideals fade away. Lines blur and the basic blueprint of my beliefs, thoughts, and troubles, disappear.

That is where I am only his. Nothing more, and nothing less.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Excessive Complaining

Excessive complaining...I'm about to do some. There's a nice list of non-whiny blogs on the right.

I developed a rather deep sense of resentment towards Alpha's father long before I ever met him. He was and is, a crappy father--king of bar brawls, selfishness, empty promises, and all around juvenile behavior.
To sum it up, he is a rather large fully grown man with the attitude and thought processes of a badly behaved 14 year old boy.
He is however, the only father Alpha has ever known.

My son and my father were best friends. My dad taught him how to hit a baseball, regularly attended kiddo's soccer games, and dragged himself off the couch when he could barely move to take his grandson out to do fun things.
They were very close and my son feels the rather large space my father's death left in his life. This gap has led to a desire on his part to get to know and spend time with his other grandfather.

I'm jumping all over the place here, but I'll get to my complaint of the day shortly lol.

My first and only personal falling out with Alpha's father occurred about seven years ago when he shoved Alpha into a wall during a fight about thing1. He apparently never learned any other way to resolve differences.
Being a large man who wins his fights, he thinks he's won as long as he's the man left standing.
Now for Alpha as a grown man, that was an exceptionally difficult position to be in with his father. For once, thing2 rose to the occasion and broke it up before Alpha had to respond or I lost my shit completely.
After that night, Alpha's father stepped very carefully around me. In fact, as backwards as it was, I'm the only person he apologized to. I hear that was huge for him.
He was well aware that I would have no problem shooting him over my husband. And having lived with Alpha's mom for as long as he did, he also knows that small pissed off women can be highly unpredictable.

Now, years later, everyone's pretty much gotten over that night. Family is family and we tolerate each other pretty well. But in the typical fashion of grown 14 year old drunks, that night has never been mentioned.

Now that I'm done squishing the butterflies...

Alpha's father called last night to tell me he was coming to a memorial near us tomorrow, and arriving today in the town I work and kiddo plays soccer. I saw an opportunity...And asked him to come to kiddo's soccer game Saturday morning. Personally, I could give two shits less, but it would make my son's day.
Well...He has to sleep. Then he has to eat. And he just doesn't have time.
I was highly irritated. Of course, it was a late night call and he was already a down a few cases of beer, so there was no sense in really trying to talk to him.

Alpha will call this morning like his dad asked and invite them again.
There's a street soccer match tonight. I don't usually take kiddo because they are so late, but I'm thinking that fil (father in law), should really go. After all, he'll be there and he has to sleep in the morning right?

We all know the day will eventually come when lil has had enough and gives fil the lecture of his lifetime. I'll probably start with my kids and work my way back up the generations through Alpha's childhood.
With any luck, that won't be this week--it's not nice to make grown men cry before they go to a memorial.

And this my friends, is why so many subs wander around the world unnoticed--there's many sides to each person. And for some of us, one of those sides is the repressed desire to make a grown man cry and repent for being a total ass throughout their son's lifetime.

Seriously, if you read this in the AM--I'm sorry, have more coffee. And if you find my sense of humor, it can be returned to

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Learned a Few Things

Life is really just kicking my butt these days. I have things to do...But that requires motion. And motion is bad lol.

I have learned a few things lately though! Mind you, most of them are completely useless...

Glass figurines cannot fly.Well, they can...But their landings are no good.

It is actually possible for a child to sit in a chicken coop long enough to watch a chicken lay an egg. He showed extreme dedication (the kid, not the chicken).

No matter how many days of the month I do not work, I will always get my period on one of the days I do work. I'm pretty bitter about that one...

Being tired all the time does not mean you will sleep. Seriously, if this insomnia crap keeps up I'm gonna go postal--I waited nine years for my kids to sleep through the night, and now I can't sleep?!

Little gremlins live in my home and wait until all the laundry is done...Then they sneak out at night to hide one of every sock and fill up the laundry basket.

And that is the extent of my mental abilities for the week.

Edit hours later:
omgoodies, how could I forget the very thing that started this post in the first place?! Jellyfish don't have brains. I think they'll be very accepting of me. Apparently we are of a similar ilk.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Realizing Potential

One of the things that Alpha has always done for me is to encourage me to meet my potential.
But I have noticed that he is much more proactive and adamant about it since starting our forays into power exchange.

For me, one of the drawbacks of consistent over thinking, is doubting myself and my abilities.
The thing is, while he gets the final say, while he is more than happy to bend me to his will and control me, he also demands that I live up to my potential outside of our relationship.

I know it might not sound like a very big deal, but also think that there is a fairly common misconception that having a submissive means making her less than she is. And yes, sometimes I am very much less than my whole. But it can actually be really nice to let everything else go and just be...His. Nothing else.

Sorry, got distracted already.
Okay, now I remember what I was originally going on about.

He has this amazing faith in me that often surpasses my faith in myself.
Sometimes he soothes away my fears, often he laughs them away as if they are simply silly little obstacles of my own making, and he occasionally growls in frustration. Okay, so more than occasionally lol.

Where I see flaws, he sees unrealized potential. Where I see a chance to fall flat, he sees an opportunity to fly. When I hear the low road calling, he pushes me down the high road with a grin that dares me to challenge him.

When I sat and cried in frustration at algebra, he raised his eyebrows and said "You live in that damn book. You'll be great."
And I was. Because I tried.
It admittedly took an unnatural amount of effort--but I lived, ate, breathed, bitched, and obsessed over every class. And earned nothing less than a very solid 4.0.
Okay, technically I made it a little over that, but people seem to think that it's really annoying when someone places that much importance on good grades lol.

I make pretty decent money. I also come crawling home cursing my day and the powers that be for having a skill set that is more demanding than my body agrees with.
So he tells me that I am free to quit, but if I do I had better damn well do something that I really enjoy.

I know that my grammar leaves something to be desired, and I'm pretty sure that my punctuation can be downright atrocious. And those are, (in my mind) great reasons for not doing what I love most.
He doesn't see it like that. He growls at me and tells me that I won't really know if I never try.

And if the stories in my head ever make it to paper? It will be because his faith in me outweighed the doubt I have of myself.
Because, as he says--wasting potential is a far worse crime than having no potential at all.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Submissive Search Results

It surprises me that most of my Google hits come from the search term "submissive." Shouldn't really be a newsflash right? I mean it is in the title and all...
Maybe it surprises me because I remember being the person doing the searching, not the writing. Or maybe it's because I don't really feel like a shining example of a submissive.

Yes, that's definitely it.

So that got me to thinking, what then would a shining example look like? And why do I feel like I'm not one of them?

The truth is, I probably don't read many of the ones who look like constantly shining examples of perfect submission.
I like the stories of those who try, fall, and get up to try again. I like the stories written by submissives who are searching and questioning and always trying to discover something just a little bit deeper. And the ones with a sense of humor about it all just make me laugh. And I like that.
I like following those stories because I can identify with them. Because they expand the way I think and make me smile. Because they are real.
And ultimately, I believe that perfection is an illusion--that the closest any of us will ever get is being perfect for someone.

So why do I feel like an unreliable source of information for that particular search term? I think it's because I feel like I spend a lot of time falling flat. I don't see myself as a shining example of submission. Though for the most part, Alpha seems to think I'm alright so that's what really matters right.

Maybe I could write the "How Not to Do It Manual for Submissives" lol.

While I'm on the subject of keywords, I almost hate to say it because it might happen again, but it's too ridiculous not to share--I'll do it really quietly.
I got a hit off the search "French toast mindfuck."
It's one of those deeply disturbing things...That made me laugh.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Memories in A World Divided

There are topics that I generally avoid on my blog because my views can be somewhat controversial, and I do not wish to see my little corner turned into a debate ground.
Upon occasion however, I do feel the need to dip my toes into something a little bit different.

Our memories are what make us stronger and (hopefully) prevent us from repeating past mistakes. We keep them with us, and eventually they become part of who we are.
The question is, do we remember truth, or do we remember that which we have been told to believe?
I think that very much depends on what part of this earth we inhabit.

Often, it is those closest to home whom we mourn.

But it is important to remember that we are all part of a bigger world.
And global actions come with consequences of global proportions.

We find destruction most painful when it occurs close to home.

But it is important to remember, that even though we live in a world divided

My children have not lived a day of their lives when their country was not at war.

We all share one earth.

When we hold to the belief that all life is important, one world is enough.

And even though we each most mourn our own

When they come home.

We are all very much the same despite our differences.

Every mother shares the same pain.

All images were taken from the internet and are neither the property of, or affiliated with Submissive Sanctuary in any way.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

The Detached Observer

Okay, I know that I have been on this whole "Intimacy" kick and this is going to sound slightly contrary, but I'm okay with that lol.

I haven't quite gotten this one figured out, so grab some coffee and get ready to give me the answers to life's mysteries. I'll take notes.

There are times when we are "playing" (I need another suitable term. That one really doesn't fit with what I have in mind), and Alpha becomes detached. He watches me with a slightly inquisitive predatory eye, and exudes a sense of detachment that makes me tremble.
Ummm....I love it. It turns me into a dripping, malleable, ball of goo. Attractive visual huh.
Still though...

Why I love being close to him, yet am so totally turned on by his detachment, is still somewhat of a mystery to me.
Does it really matter why that turns me on so much? Well no...I don't think so...But still...

I wonder if it's that part of me that gets off on fear but usually rests secure in the fact that he loves me?
Not that I doubt his love at those times...But I am well aware that his love for me won't stop or change what he decides to do.

Perhaps it is about control--at those times he seems so extremely in control of himself that I can help but yield to it?

Maybe it's because he's letting something out that he usually keeps locked up... 

In those moments he doesn't look at me like his wife. He looks at me like some kind of experiment where things are carefully added and taken away depending on the result, and all variables are controlled and adjusted by him.
Nothing that I do or say will change what is happening. I simply am...For him.

And there you have it--in the course of a few short paragraphs, I have decided that it doesn't matter why his detachment is such a huge turn-on for me.

As a state of life, it's not something that I could live with and feel loved and happy. But those times when it does happen? I love them.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

The Universe Giveth and the Universe Taketh Away

The universe gave:
One miraculous same-day chiropractic appointment.

The universe took:
One very nice, rather large, frosted glass figurine that I accidentally knocked off a shelf at work. Naturally it hit my child in the face on it's way down.
Shining moment that.

The universe gave:
Lots and lots of engine feedback knock.
Whatdya know--no return to sender option on that one.

The universe took:
My warm weather!*$%

The universe gave:
A husband who can start a fire in five seconds.

All in all, it could be worse!

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Any Ideas?

I have tried all my tricks.
Painkillers, ice, sending the children to bed, giving in to the urge to puke, lights on, lights off, feet up, feet down, the fetal position lol, etc.
I have tried everything short of decapitation (looking more appealing by the minute though), and the base of my skull still feels like my brains are being pulled out through it.

Anybody got any new tricks for me to try? I do believe it's from muscle spams in my neck and upper back (seems to be the usual diagnosis anyways).

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Fuck my Mind, or--Mindsex at it's Best

I said "Fuck my mind", not "Fuck with my mind". There's a very large difference between the two. And it is perhaps an exceptionally crude description of the former.

I never took physics or chemistry (at any level), so this is not going to be a very technical post because technically, I have no idea what I'm talking about. Let's just cover a couple of basics then I'll drift off into that abstract stuff I love so much.
I got a few questions last time I mentioned this concept, so I'll try to cover my bases a bit more this time lol.

If we need to be logical about things (not my strong point, I'll admit)...

Energy is an indirectly observed quantity that cannot be created or destroyed. Matter is equivalent to energy in accordance with it's mass, and energy can be transferred from one system to another (thank you Wikipedia).

Everything in the Universe is energy because energy is the building block of all matter. The sub-atomic particles of our bodies are pure energy, and we each generate an energy field that extends outside of our bodies.

Thoughts are a powerful form of energy because they move through time and space in a way that our physical bodies do not (you would think this belief would make me less of a cynic, but at least I have plenty of room to evolve lol).

When we talk about BDSM, we tend to focus on the physical aspects and the effect it has on our minds. Often neglected from the sub side is the focus and energy it takes to Dominate. And while the physical focus is important, the mental focus is what creates the control that makes those physical circumstances possible.

It is a circular symbiotic feeding of need on both sides of the power equation.

With enough focus of thought and energy, Alpha can make me dripping wet by touching nothing more than my head (though I have found that a hand on my head and one on my sacrum is the most intense. Maybe it has something to do with completing the loop...). Anyways, that's saying something, given the fact that I seem to be "Exceptionally difficult to turn on".
It is a very simple concept though, and the base of it is an exchange of power manifested in the focus and exchange of energy.
It's a bit like flying dreams where trying to hard makes it so you can't get off the ground, and you have to keep your mind on that even middle road to actually fly.

In one way or another, at one time or another, intentionally or not, and to varying extents--we all experience this exchange of energy because we are energy.

Where was I, ooh yes--mindsex lol.

If he goes to fast or takes me down at a speed I can't keep up with, I get an extremely unpleasant bout of vertigo and he has to bring me back up enough for me to be solid in reality before continuing. This usually only occurs if I am resisting and can cause a mild state of panic. Because I'm focusing on the sensation of loss of self more than the attachment to him.

I think that subspace (you know, that little term we all define differently but seems to be the only word we have for a particular experience),  is an energetic event that manifests itself in a mental state which impacts our physical reality.

Energy is why sex is not equal to intimacy, and physical proximity does not equal closeness.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Connection of Extremes

I often say that I don't crave sex, but I do crave D/s, and I'm sticking to that claim.

I crave pain and intensity, control and and stillness. I crave the connection that comes with certain events.

Intimacy is very much dependent on personal views. My favorite one in writing happens to be Jz's (in all fairness I linked to the revisited one because it's the one I could find. Labels are very helpful for those of us who are rather slow on the uptake. Just sayin. lol).

I would like to say that my most perfected skill was something really useful and impressive. It's not. What I'm really good at is building walls. I also do moats and boiling oil!
I'm pretty good at disconnecting from my body too. It's a questionable skill that usually rears it's head at the least convenient times.

But there are certain activities wherein I don't crave the activity itself, sometimes I even abhor the activity, but I crave the intimacy it brings.
I don't equate sex with intimacy. Perhaps because I spent so long checking out anytime it occurred...

I equate pain, control, and intensity with intimacy.

For me the connection happens when our energies are so mingled that I cannot separate the two. It becomes the ultimate and literal mindfuck (a post of its own perhaps). Sometimes it doesn't even require much physical connection. But in that moment, he knows he has me completely. "You want me to walk on hot coals? I'm no longer capable of remembering what those are, but sure!" (it's an example people. Don't take me so literally).

It's that connection, the place where disconnecting from him becomes an absolute impossibility, that scares the daylights out of me. It's also the place where I find the most peace.
It's that space where I becomes disconnected completely from worry, where reality fades away, and there is nothing besides us and the moment we share.
It can take some extremes to get me to that place of extreme intimacy. But that's where I want to be.

Can you tell I'm craving?

Monday, September 3, 2012


Poor Alpha (I can hear some of you snickering and thinking "I've been saying that for ages!"). He spent weeks working on the house and finishing the laundry room. Then the paint for the laundry room turned out to be a bit pinker than he liked. Which led to the statement, "I cant' show this off now. It's pink!" But it does look really good...

He let me rearrange the living room this morning. I never get to rearrange!
So I was doing my happy little thing, moving furniture and looking at it from different angles all happy. And he told me I was a blind person's worst nightmare.

But even he had to admit, things are looking nicely.


I know I'm a dork. But I'm okay with that lol.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

I Need You to Hit me

No not you. Sheesh, how twisted do you think I am?

I used to feel like the slap was a bad thing. It's kind of derogatory, it's not nice to hit people, and men shouldn't smack their wives around.
My view, while situation dependent, has changed quite a lot.

I honestly don't remember the first time he slapped me. I do remember it was during sex and we had been at ttwd for some time. It shocked the daylights out of me.
I almost cried. But instead I had an earthshaking orgasm.

And then it started creeping out of the bedroom.

Yes, I think there have been a couple of times where I did cry. But that's okay. Neither of us believe that tears should necessarily be the goal, even though sometimes they are (I'm not trying to talk in circles, really I'm not). But some of the best experiences I have had are the ones where I end up crying. Sometimes it's like an orgasmic release without the orgasm.

Oh...I got distracted again didn't I?

At this point in our relationship, I should probably correct my attitude and get back on course with nothing more than a word or two sounds kind of reasonable right? What can I say, I'm a bit dense at times, I get many opportunities for self-improvement.

A word or two doesn't always do it. But a slap or two? It's like there's an invisible reset button located in the vicinity of my face. Because suddenly I'm repentant. And all malleable and my pussy aches (haha, I used a dirty word! Seriously, I'm not sure it's ever been featured here lol, and I'm pretty sure those five letters took a whole minute to type).

And I don't really like it, but I want him to do it again.

I still don't think that men should smack their wives around. But I also like it when mine slaps me around a bit. It helps that he's never hit me in anger. And he knows his own strength--he's big, I'm not.
You know what else makes it hot? He won't ever let anyone else hit me.

Yesss...Beat me, use and abuse me, humiliate me and tell me I'm amazing, make me cry and kiss away my tears, treat me like a filthy whore and stroke my hair while I sit at your feet.
The key to me? His refusal to allow anyone else to treat me like anything less than his wife and equal.