Thursday, October 28, 2010

That 3 letter word

This post was inspired by my friend Galway.  Go check out her blog!!

Sir [sur]
                -noun
1. A respectful or formal term of address used to a man: No, sir.

Such a simple definition for a word that for many carries so much weight.  Ask any woman, particularly a woman who has chosen DD as a lifestyle and you will get a reaction as varied as the women you ask.

Early in my DD “journey”, I walked around with a bitter taste in my mouth.   My association with the word could be linked closely to my past. It was uttered forcibly growing up, under less than ideal conditions, giving this particular individual a false sense of respect. 

In my eyes, anyone asking for a Sir was looking for a power trip.  I declared to myself it was a word I would never use again.  Ever.

A discussion with a good  friend helped change my manifesto. 

"Monica, it doesn't have to be demeaning.  Let's redefine it.  You can decide what that word means to you from now on.  Who would deserve that title from you? What would it take? Describe him."

"I'd have to trust him." 

"Ok Monica, that's fair.  Go on."

I reluctantly continued to describe the criteria.  After a few minutes, we had quite an extensive list of requirements (surprisingly, none of these included the provision of chocolate). Then, just when I was getting comfortable with making the demands, he switched gears.


"Monica, what do you want to express to him when you say it?"

This question was a little harder.

What could I pack into this little word, besides the obvious? It meant so much more to me than showing my submission.   That I knew he cared?  Thanks and gratitude?  Awareness of what was being said?  That even though I was vulnerable, I trusted him as well?

Once we got through that list, I admitted that I had a more positive outlook on the whole idea.


"Good.  Now that we have a  brand spanking new definition of the word, you'll have to practice using it. " he said.  "No time like the present, don't you agree?"


"Practice? Yes, sure, I guess"  I totally knew where he was going with this.

"Yes what, Monica?"

I paused and held my breath.

"Yes Sir." I replied. 

"See?  Was that so bad?"  

Since then I can name on one hand the gentlemen that I've felt comfortable enough to address in this manner.  If I was REALLY honest with myself, I would have to also admit that it's much easier for me to type it out in an IM than verbalize it out loud.  I know it pleases Aaron a great deal when I use it and with a little guidance, I'm getting much better at using it without prompting. 

After all, practice makes perfect.


Tuesday, October 19, 2010

An Open Letter to Mr. You-Know-Who-You-Are:

Dear Sir-


Although I enjoy getting presents like anyone else, I believe you, and my husband, have some deep seeded roots of wickedness that should be discussed in detail with a professional. 


I should have known when the box came and Aaron snatched it up fast as lightning.  He placed in on the table with strict instructions not to touch it.  Sure.  Put a present on the table clearly addressed to both of us expect me not to poke at it?  Cruel.  Both of you.  But I digress. 
 

What on Earth could it be? I pondered at the table and sadly came to the realization that it wasn't a puppy. 

I'll save you the complaint that I NEVER get want I want.  Ever.  
   
Aaron grabbed a pocket knife while I  feverishly texted to let you know our surprise had made it here safely.   As he was opening the package I thought to myself, "My my what great FRIENDS we have!"

Allow me to help you with a few friendship skills.  

Take a note from that beautiful wife of yours.  Friends send pretty, soft, beautiful things that keep the receiver warm.  (To my favorite partner in crime, consider this a fist bump of gratitude for the lovely neck wraps.)

Exhibit A:



Let's continue shall we?

See, you almost had me fooled with your trickery.  Wrapping your so called "present" in a bag kept the mystery for just a little while longer.  Even Aaron's cackle did not deter me from thinking anything was awry.  I was too busy wrapping myself up in cloth extravagance.   



Still I kept guessing.  What delightful little gift could this possibly be?  Aaron interrupted my thoughts of  possible pleasantries with a "Ohh, he TOLD me about THIS!"

So sweet that you two have bonded.  Really. 

I was just as excited as he was until he began to pull this object out of it's wrapping.  

For those with weak stomach, I urge you to cover your eyes. 



This is not chocolate.  This is not a vase of flowers.  You should even check into the legal fine print about sending such things to innocent citizens like myself.  

My thoughts of admiration flew out of my thoughts as soon as Aaron began chasing me around the living room.  I believe I may have attained a nasty splinter.  If I get tetanus, are you going to feel sorry then?

To think I almost made you a carrot cake.

You still have one fan in our household.  Aaron still hasn't stopped grinning.  He has named it "The Beast".  I'm sure he would appreciate it very much if I thanked him for you.  Fat chance of that happening.

In closing, I would like to give you one last chance at redemption.  I accept all forms of handwritten apologies.  I can also be bought.    Until then, consider yourself officially off my Christmas list. 

Yours

Monica

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Struggles

This may come as a shocker, but I'm what some may label as stubborn.

Yes.  I know.  I'll give you a moment.

I prefer to call it tenacity. 

Nicer ring to it.


Whatever you call it, it's been with me for as long as I can remember.

It hasn't always been a negative trait.  There have been times in my life where it's paid off and I've prevailed.


But looking back, I can say that most of the time it's made things a bit difficult on me.

For example:
In college, fresh in my discovery of DD, I decided I would take on the task of molding the man I was dating into the perfect Dom.  Sure he couldn't keep a job, was on academic probation for the second time in his 7 year college "plan" and had the classic deer in headlights look every time I uttered a word with more than 3 syllables. I could FIX him.  Make him into what I needed.  My own social experiment.

For years, YEARS  I worked on him.  Precious energy wasted.  We parted ways for reasons I won't get into here (two words: stripper and rent money.  I'll let your imagination run with that.)

The point of this (other than releasing a bit of old animosity..did I mention I hold grudges too?)  is that I couldn't throw in the towel, even when there were signs all over the place.

Present day- It's becoming a problem.

Stubbornness is getting in the way of my submission.

Although it's not a constant problem, I find myself digging my heels in on some occasions. It makes the act of submitting more of a process.  Aaron has to crack the shell of hardheadedness before he can even reach the good stuff.  
After the cracking has commenced and he's gotten through, there is a ping of guilt.  I feel like I'm not "walking the walk" correctly.  I tell myself that next time, I'm going to just ignore my first reaction and not fight what I know works for us so well.  

But that next time comes, and I keep digging in.

Do others struggle with the same problem?








Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Times they are a changin'

I’m thinking about changing the blog, going public.
I think it would force me to  update more often on my thoughts and what’s going on here.
I’ve also got so many great ideas, about 3 drafts going on at the same time.  It would be nice to have them read and maybe tweaked a little with some advice.  I still really like the characters in the dress story, so I’m going to continue in that direction for awhile.
I just have to tweak a few things, and keep writing for myself, write what I enjoy and how I’m feeling.  That’s why I started the blog in the first place!


Edit: Home Sweet blogger Home!  All my posts from the past couple of months have  been moved today.  This little spot of the internet needs a touch of Monica, some sprucing up with frills and femininity.  Work in progress!!

Speeding (Story Starter)

He was finished.  He gave her a few moments to catch her breath, laying his hand gingerly on her now warm backside, one eye admiring his handiwork, the other looking at the ground towards Elaine .  Hair covered the majority of his view, but even through the strands he caught a glimpse of her tear-streaked cheek.  Dan  spoke quietly.

“Elaine , let’s go to the corner now.”  He released her slowly from his hold and helped her up.  The repentant sobs were now just sniffles as she placed herself back into the corner.   Dan  leaned back in the chair and watched her before turning his attention to the little slip of paper that started the whole session.

Dan  read the title over again, Department of Public Safety, traffic violation.  He had warned her numerous times about her lead foot. This time it had caught up with her. Ten miles per hour over the speed limit.  Not much, 
Dan  admitted to himself, but enough to warrant some discipline. He placed the ticket back on the coffee table.

Thirty minutes had past.  Elaine was quiet and calmer. By the looks of her body language Dan could tell she was not enjoying her time spent there. Her bottom was still bright red. He was unmoved.  It was all part of the process.  He spoke up again.

“Come here.”  He demanded. Elaine dropped her skirt, covered her bottom and walked towards him, ready to take the rest of her scolding.

“Are we going to speed again, young lady?”  He asked, grabbing her wrist, pulling  her closer.  She shook her head.

“That’s not an answer Elaine .  Are we going to speed?”

“No, Sir. ”

“Good.  If you ever, EVER get a ticket again, you’ll be in much worse shape than you are now.  Are we clear?”

“Yes, we’re clear.”  Elaine  stated.  With that he sent her off with one last smack to her bottom.

Moody (story)

Eyebrows would raise as soon as the fiery comment left my lips.  I would be summoned closer and asked if I could repeat myself, for surely I was misunderstood.  When I'm asked if I felt it was an appropriate comment to make, I would answer with excuses, only to be cut short with a simple "Enough."

I would be sent to reacquaint myself with an old friend, the corner.

"Obviously you're in need of a little attitude adjustment.  I know a well spanked girl would never speak to me that way. " he would say, leading me by my arm.  "I think I have just the thing to remind you of your place."  

Further protests are spoken, but ignored as garments are removed and I'm placed into position.   In my thoughts,  I'm brave, shooting silent remarks in his direction.  Soon vulnerability  prickles my skin and I am quiet.


Time passes.  My attention moves from the texture of the walls to the stirring behind me.  He would be busy gathering his supplies for the job ahead of him, occasionally slapping one against his the palm of his hand.  The noises would cause me swallow hard and shift my weight.  Familiar uneasiness would settle in, driving my body further into into the corner in a vain attempt to become unnoticed.

But he would notice.

Getting to know you.....

...getting to know all about yoooouu!  (Bonus points if you can  name that tune)

Over the past few weeks I've been introduced to some new DDers.   It's been nice, really nice, to reconnect to the community.  I've rejoined a few groups in hopes that it helps me with expressing my ideas.  (That is, when I get brave enough to post more than just an intro).

The conversations have been general, for the most part.  Questions such as where I live, what I do,  how long have I been "into" DD are all answered pretty easily.

I'm having a bit of a problem however. There is always one question that comes up that makes me hesitate.

"How old are you?"

They don't usually come out and ask at first.  Usually I can sense the calculations in their head once I start talking about how long I've been married, kid free, ect.

As soon as it's asked, I panic.

The last time I was asked (yesterday) the conversation  stopped dead in it's tracks.  It was at that time I wished I had just avoided the question, maybe with a witty "oh, a lady never tells her age" sort of answer.  The lady was nice and chatty up to that point.  Then all of a sudden she had to go and signed off.

Well Crap!  Is usually my first reaction.  Then I start over analyzing.  Does this mean "word" is going to get around that I'm just a "kid", therefore any post or comment I make is going to be dismissed?  These new people, are they going to think I have no idea what I'm talking about because of my age?  Who can I get to 'vouch' that I know my stuff?  What's the magic word to be accepted?

Anxiety makes meeting people in person is hard enough for me.  That's a whole other post  Adding the fact that it's all online  is even harder.

My logical side (yes, I have one) pipes up amidst the deep sea of self doubt  Why do I care what these people think?  I don't have to prove anything to anyone! I'm me!  I'm awesome!  I should be comfortable with that.  Right? Right!

But unfortunately all the inner pep talks give me about 5.7 seconds of confidence.  This is the precise amount of time it takes me to go to plan B, a little chocolate therapy.

Expectations

The streets were dark with something more than night.
Raymond Chandler
About a week ago I was with a friend, K, for a bit of shopping and dinner downtown.  As we were leaving, I asked if her husband was going to pick her up, or if I needed to drive her home.  She laughed and told me that she was going to walk the 6 blocks or so back to her apartment, no big deal.  Now, K is petite and this particular part of downtown has been known for it's unsavory atmosphere.  I kept insisting that she let me take her home, but she kept laughing it off as no big deal.  I struck a deal with her that she at least had to text me when she got home so I wouldn't worry.

Last night, we were over at their apartment for a dinner party.  K began to talk to her husband about how concerned I was with her safety and how "cute" it was that I cared so much.  I turned to her husband thinking he would agree with me.  Instead, he laughed and shook his head, as if it wasn't a big deal.  When I at least suggested mace, or a knife (ok, the knife may have been a bit of an exaggerated suggestion on my part) or something, his response was " Don't give her any of that, she'll use it on me."

His reaction bugged me.  Where was the reaction I was looking for?  Shouldn't there be some concern for her safety?  Shouldn't he have told her under no circumstances would she ever walk home alone?  At least a acknowledgment that there was some concern.

She kept saying "Monica, I can take care of myself."  

Ouch.

That bugged me too.

In bed last night I was trying to process why it had bugged me so much.  I'm still having a hard time with it.   Has the DD lifestyle changed my expectations how husbands should treat their wives, even if they aren't into DD?  Is it fair to compare their reactions to how I would react?

And the whole line about "I can take care of myself."  If I was not into DD, would I be okay with walking in the streets downtown alone?  Has submission totally killed my sense of what I'm capable of doing?

The Dress (Story)

It all started out as an innocent trip to the store.  In the window next door, she saw THE perfect dress hanging there, calling her name. Sure she lots of things to do today, but trying it on wouldn’t hurt, right?

So now of course, standing in the dressing room Elaine  had a decision to make.  She smoothed the dress out against her hips and gave herself one final look in the mirror.  Justifying to herself why she needed the dress was easy.  A girl could never have enough clothes.  Convincing Dan however, was another story. Particularly when it meant having to use the emergency credit card for the purchase.  She thought about it for a little while and came up with an idea.  She would buy the dress and have Dan take it out of her spending money for the next two weeks.  It was bending the rules a little, but Elaine was sure Dan wouldn’t have a problem once she explained the situation.  Happy with her decision, Elaine quickly changed back into her dress and went to go checkout.

At the counter, as she was thinking of the game plan for the next few hours of errands, she felt a tap on her shoulder.  She turned around to see a familiar face.  It was Tony, Dan friend.

“Tony! What are you doing here?” she reached over and gave him a quick hug.  They continued to make small talk while the cashier rang up her purchase.   She grabbed the dress, said her goodbyes, and went on her way.

A few hours later, with all of her errands run, Dan called to check in.  She filled him in on all the errands, but thought it best not to mention the dress purchase over the phone.   Although she felt a little guilty about omitting that, she quickly put it out of her mind.  He’ll understand if he sees the dress first.   Coming closer to the house, she noticed an extra car in the driveway.  “Who could that be?” she wondered to herself. Elaine knew Dan was home, so she grabbed her bags and made her way into the house to see who the visitor was.

“Well, there she is” Elaine heard as she opened the door.  She looked up and felt an instant pit in her stomach.    That was Tony’s voice.  What the heck was he doing here? Elaine kept her eyes to the floor as she took her shoes off to grab some sense of composure.  Her plan of telling Dan face to face may have just been blown.    A million thoughts flew through her head.  “Stay calm, he wouldn’t have said anything to Dan about the seeing her earlier, it wouldn’t have come up in conversation,  Besides, it had only been a few minutes since she had spoken to him.  She didn’t notice hearing him sounding angry, and she KNEW that tone. Elaine swallowed hard and looked up at Dan to search for any sign of anger.  None.  She sighed in relief as she made it into the living room.

“Tony just got here.  I was going to invite him to stay over for dinner and watch the game.  Did you remember to put something out for us?”

“Crap!!” Elaine thought.  Dan  saw the look on her face and knew the answer.  “No hmm?  Well,  I suggest you get something started.  You and I will have to discuss later how we can better plan the rest of the week.   

Dan's  tone had changed slightly as he gave her a look.  Elaine knew exactly what that meant.  Those types of discussions started with her nose in the corner, and ended with her backside on fire with a clear reminder of the expectations he had for her.

Elaine accepted her fate silently.  She made her way to the kitchen to start dinner, keeping one ear on what the guys were talking about.

Soon Elaine had dinner placed on the table.  They ate and continued casual conversation.  All of a sudden, Tony  got up out of his chair and reached into his back pocket.

Elaine  I totally forgot!  I didn’t know if you kept these or not, but I picked it up for you.”  He handed her a tiny piece of paper folded from his wallet.  As soon as she saw it, the pit in her stomach returned.  She slowly took the paper from Tony, knowing full well what it was.

“What is that?”  Dan asked as she opened it up.

“Oh, I ran into Elaine today while returning some clothes.  It’s her receipt.  She left it on the counter.

"What was it?"  Dan asked.

"A dress or something”  Tony answered for her and continued eating.   Dan and Elaine exchanged glances.

“A dress, hmm? That’s interesting.” Dan said as he took the slip from Elaine’s hand.  He read it more in detail.  Elaine looked down at her plate as he continued.  “Credit card purchase? Elaine, am I reading this right?”

She didn’t have to look at the receipt for the answer.  She confirmed with a nod of her head.

“Elaine, was this an emergency dress purchase? Surely there is a good reason for using it.  Did something happen to the clothes you were wearing? I don’t recall you mentioning it over the phone today either.”

“I was planning on telling you when I got home, so you could see in person.  I had a plan, and Tony had to go open his god damned mouth!”  As soon as those words left her mouth, she knew she had just dug herself into a bigger hole.  Cursing was not tolerated, period.

“Let’s Go.” Dan got up and started moving towards the kitchen.  Elaine hesitated, looking at Tony.  “Not here, not now, please”, she thought closing her eyes.

“Elaine.”

He was not letting her out of this.  She got out of the chair and met him in the kitchen.  Dan was already soaping up a washcloth..

“Let’s talk about this later, I can explain everything later if you give me a chance.”  She whispered, trying to stay out of earshot from Tony.  She looked at the table to see Tony, watching with total confusion.

“Elaine, you know what happens when you don’t watch your language. Open. Right. Now.”

Elaine tried to back away from the sink, but Dan kept her pinned.  Elaine tried again to protest, but Dan was too quick.  He grabbed her chin, and forced the washcloth past her lips.  Although this has happened more than she would like to admit, she still couldn’t get used to the taste.  Dan meant business, scrubbing every last inch of her mouth.  She kept her eyes closed, afraid that if she looked at Dan, she’d really lose it. She couldn’t afford to do that, not in front of Tony.  She heard him get out of his chair and come to the kitchen.

“Dan, what the heck are you doing?”

“Tony, we have a rule in this house about cursing. Elaine has broken the rule, so this is her consequence.”

“Wait, you’re doing what?  Listen, Dan, it’s not her fault, I’m sorry; I didn’t know it would cause such a fuss, or THIS for that matter. “

Dan was finished.  He moved away from the sink, and let her go.  She straightened herself and turned her back quickly so Tony could not see the tears down her face.

Tony couldn’t believe his eyes. This was all because of a receipt?  He had never heard Dan talk this way either.  Rules?  Consequences?  Soap?    “Elaine, seriously, what is this?  Are you okay?”

“Tony, she’s fine and at the moment, she’s got a bit more than soap to worry about. We’ve just started, haven’t we young lady?”

Elaine sniffed silently.  Her hand went up to her mouth, touching her lips.  Her tongue burned.  She knew every swallow she took for the next few hours would serve as a reminder.  Dan continued.

“Elaine also knows what happens when she uses the credit card without permission, doesn’t she?”  Dan took Elaine by the shoulders and spun her around, moving her back into the living room.

“Elaine, tell Tony what happens when you use the card without permission?” Elaine could feel Dan's squeeze on her shoulder.  She couldn’t, wouldn’t!  What was he trying to do to her?  After a few moments, she felt him squeeze a little harder.

“ I get spanked.”  She could barely get it out in a whisper.

“Speak up, Tony didn’t hear that.” He moved her closer to the table.

“I get spanked, Tony” she couldn’t believe she was saying it.  She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.  What was possibly going on in his head?

“She’s WHAT?” Tony was stunned.  Was this a joke?  He looked at Elaine,  clearly upset.  Her face was red.  He looked up at Dan firmly gripping Elaine by the shoulders.  Neither one looked like they were kidding.

“Spanked?  Are you kidding me? Like, now?”

“Well, not at this moment, she’s not.  She’s going to clean up the dinner plates first.  Let’s go into the living room and let her be.”

With one final squeeze, Dan let Elaine go.  She began to clear the table and headed towards the kitchen, relieved to be away from Tony’s stare.  Elaine dawdled as long as she was brave enough to, and made her way into the living room. Dan was still in conversation, while Tony was sitting on the couch, looking to Elaine’s surprise, relaxed and comfortable.

“Oh good,” she thought, sarcastically  “at least someone here is ok with the situation.”

Dan changed his focus when she walked into the room.

“All finished?  Would I approve?”  She nodded yes.  “Good, then you know where to go next.”

“But, What about Tony?” she protested, stomping her foot.

“Are we going to add disobedience to the list today, little girl?”

She huffed and made her way to the corner.  A few moments passed.

“We’re still waiting.  That is not how we stand there now is it?”

“But, Tony!!” she repeated, this time to the wall.

“I have talked Tony , Tony understands.  He stays.  We have a game to watch. “

“Dan, please, I’ll be bare!”

“Tough.  Tony, you’ve seen a backside before, haven’t you?”

He was a little taken aback by the question.  “Sure, sure I have”  Tony answered with nervous laughter.

“Good. That’s settled.  Elaine, I’m not going to ask again.”

Elaine slowly moved into the proper position.  She could feel the heat come off her face.  Hands behind her back, skirt lifted, and bare bottomed, she closed her eyes and waited.

After a few seconds, Elaine could hear the T.V. turn on.  She began to relax slightly as the game started, thankful that the focus was off her backside, for now.  She couldn’t bring herself to think about what came next..  These type of spankings were never pleasant, Dan made sure of it.  “How long am I going to stand here like this?

Tony had just as many thoughts.  How was he possibly going to watch this game with Elaine standing like THAT?  He looked over at Dan. He was so, relaxed.  Dan could sense Tony was uncomfortable.
“Tony, it’s ok.  This is definitely not the first or last time she’s been in that corner.  Dan’s tone was back to normal.  Tony sank back into the couch and tried to concentrate on the game.

Back in the corner, Elaine  strained to hear what they were talking about.  She was sure it had something to do with her.  “Is he going to make me stand here the whole game?”  Elaine thought.  She tried to remember how long a game usually lasted.  An hour? Elaine came up with two options.  Either he was going to send Tony home at halftime, or she was going to have to stand here for the entire game.
An eternity went by before Elaine  heard the sounds she was waiting for.  Halftime!   Finally!  Dan turned down the T.V.   She could hear him get up off the couch.  She focused on each sound around her, trying to make out exactly what was going on.  Elaine heard his footsteps go into the bedroom. Was he doing what she thought he was doing?

Seconds later, Elaine had her answer.  She heard Dan move the wooden chair from it’s place in the bedroom.  Elaine's heart rate became faster as she heard him sit.  All of a sudden, waiting in the corner until the game was over didn’t seem such a bad idea after all.  She squeezed her eyes closed and buried her face deeper into the corner.

Tony sat back up in the couch as Dan started to lecture.  Flashbacks of his childhood were pushed out of his mind as Dan spoke of his disappointment.   Tony sensed Elaine’s voice start to waiver as she answered Dan’s questions.

“Now, enough of that.” Dan said, adjusting himself in the chair.   Elaine, come here.” He instructed.  It took a few seconds for her body to obey.  She turned and walked towards him, knees weak.  She couldn’t look up as she made her way towards her punishment.

Tony caught himself staring at her as she moved closer to Dan.   Not knowing what else to do, Tony gave her a small smile to make her feel better.  Elaine did not smile back.
In one fluid movement, Dan had her over his knee, securing her legs under his.  She gasped as he lifted her skirt.   Elaine  gasped again as the first hard swats fell on her bottom, one after another.  She arched her back and began to struggle.  Dan rolled Elaine  slightly and gave her a hard smack on her thigh.
“Start fighting now, Elaine, dear,  and I’ll have Tony go get the paddle.”

Tony jumped upon hearing his name.  He could see Elaine’s skin become pink very quickly.    Dan repositioned Elaine and continued the swats. Elaine whimpered.  Dan was not fazed.  He began swatting faster.  Between the sounds of the smacks, to the sounds of Elaine’s pleas to stop, Tony could hardly keep up with what was going on.  He watched as Dan worked all areas of her bare bottom.
Finally, Dan felt Elaine submit.  She was no longer kicking against his legs.  He continued the swats in a slow rhythm.  Seconds later, Elaine began to sob.

It was more than Tony could take.  He winced at each swat.  He spoke up, his voice shaken.

“Dan, she’s crying.   Please, stop.  Will you stop?  She’s hurt.”

Dan rested the palm of his hand on her now red flesh.  He looked up. “Tony, this is supposed to hurt, that’s the point.  She’s broken the rules.  Next time she’ll think twice about using the credit card for trivial purchases.”  He emphasized the last two words with swats, one to each side of her bottom.  Elaine yelped.

Dan looked back at Tony.  He could see Tony was really feeling sorry for Elaine.

“This is nothing, Tony.  She’s got another session coming to her later tonight.  Let’s wrap this up, the game is about to start back.”  With that he slowly stood Elaine up.

"One more thing before she goes back to the corner.  I think it best she gets a few swats from you."

Tony was shocked.  He watched Dan place her hands on the back of the chair.

“What?  No, no.  Dan, I couldn’t”

“Come on Tony.  I want Elaine to get a taste of what may happen next time she raises her voice at you.  Just a few swats.”  Dan looked at Tony, reassuring him as he lifted her skirt one more time.  “You can do it.”

Tony let out a long sigh and considered Dan’s request.  What could a few swats hurt?  He stood up and placed his hand on Elaine’s back.  What the heck.  He cleared his throat and pulled out his most stern tone of voice.

“Elaine, you will not speak to like that ever again, is that clear?”  He watched in utter amazement as her head nodded.  With that he lifted his arm and gave her one, two, three smacks.  Elaine jumped slightly after each one.   His hand was stinging, but from the looks of it he was sure Elaine was much worse off

He looked back at Dan, who seemed pleased as he moved the chair out of the way.  He lead Elaine, still crying , by the arm, back to the corner.

Returning to the couch, Dan turned the volume back up on the game.  He turned to Tony.  “Good job!  Next time we’ll have you use the belt.”

Finding A Balance

"“There's a balance in my life, there's reality and there's the part that looks really glamorous, but we're all just people in the end.” Olivia Newton John

Some girls day-dream of a prince charming coming to sweep them off their feet . While developing my ideals of DD, I dreamt of a prince charming alright, just not exactly putting me on his horse and riding off into the sunset. No, my prince charming had a few other positions up his sleeve. I sometimes imagine a highly romanticized version of DD. Heavy in discipline. My every move micro managed,a consequence for every single smart mouthed comment I'd make and every misstep would be noticed and taken care of on the spot. I would spend my days in full "submission mode". Intriguing? Of course! Realistic? I'm afraid not. How could anyone possibly get anything done with all the upkeep involved? How emotionally exhausting would something like that be?
Then you have reality, where every day mundane tasks and responsibilities that have to be taken care of whether I'm submissive or not. My job, for instance, is not exactly chocked full of opportunities to submit, even if we're working side by side. If I stood around and waited to be TOLD what to do at work, deadlines and details would be forgotten.
I constantly sway between these two worlds. My goal is to find better ways to make them meet. In the past few weeks, I've managed to wear skirts and heels to work everyday. That's a start! Feeling feminine at work is a big deal to me which in turn helps me feel submissive. I think my next step is to do some sort of action when I come home from work to transition into a more submissive role. I don't know what that is just yet. It'll come to me soon enough.

Outsiders Looking In


~ All of us are watchers - of television, of time clocks, of traffic on the freeway - but few are observers. Everyone is looking, not many are seeing. ~ Peter M. Leschak

In a perfect world, or perhaps a world where  I genuinely didn't care what people thought, I would be more open in my lifestyle decisions.   It's hard keeping such a major part of who you are and what you believe away from the people you love and care about.  I can count on one hand the number of "non" DDers  I've spilled my guts to.  In my experience,  not only was it not understood,  the main ideals  were dismissed and my whole lifestyle and belief system was thrown into the kink category.  Needless to say, it's easier to just keep our choices guarded.  There have been a few social situations where my actions are questioned.

"Weren't you cleaning the last time I talked to you?"- I usually get this from family members when the call on the weekends asking what I'm up to.  Housekeeping on Saturday mornings is something that I actually look forward to (gasp!).  There is a calmness in the routine that I have developed.   Starting from one end of the house to the other, my mind is clear and I am happy.   The feelings of accomplishment and pride I have in how I keep our house is mixed with a tone of submission. Housework  has become an expected role and I embrace it.

"You pay for everything in cash"- I usually play this one off with a "oh, you know, we're trying to budget."  The truth is, I'm the one on a budget!  I'm given an allowance, $60 in cash every 2 weeks.  I'm not oblivious to our account or bills, but it's definitely not in my department.  Choosing to use cash keeps the money in the bank  and my backside out of trouble.

"That Monica, she's such a planner" - I'm the most comfortable when my tasks are structured, the day is outlined, etc .   There is one major difference. I prefer to be GIVEN a plan.   My mind gets put at ease when I hear the phrase , "This is how it's going to be".   Usually those decisions are made before we're out in public, so it looks like it was my plan all along :)
I've gotten pretty good at talking things away, but I'm sure if people really looked closely and put a few pieces together, they would know that something was a little different.  (In a good way of course!)

My Journey

"The longest journey is the journey inward" - Dag Hammarskjold
After a few weeks of rolling the ideas around in my head, I decided what I needed at this point in my life was some written reflection.  Years ago,  I would spend hours pouring over DD blogs, websites, and articles, developing my own sense of what the lifestyle  actually meant.  Granted, at first,   I was just happy to have any sort of validation that my thoughts and feelings were shared by others.   I grew confident in my beliefs and grew emotionally.  I wrote stories, journal entries, letters and lines.  I chatted, bratted and tested boundaries.  Relationships developed and blossomed.  Some of which tested my determination to "stick" with DD.   Although I've learned so much,  I know there is so much more for me to explore and digest.  I'm ready!