Sliding

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“What’s wrong” He asked, coming up behind me while I was puttering around in the kitchen.

I leaned forward on the refrigerator, trying to hide my face with my hands and shook my head.

“I said, what’s wrong” he demanded.

“I don’t like your decision,” I pouted.  “I think it sucks.”  I said feeling justified in my statement.

“Go upstairs!”

He gathered his tools and sat at the foot of the bed. “Get in position”. He pointed at the spot on the floor in front of him.

I whimpered as I got undressed and did as he asked.

“First, I have the matter of your being a minute late for work the other night.  I was going to wait until your vacation was over but since you have been incorrigible lately, we will deal with this now.”

Eight hard whacks fell across my bottom.  I gasped and wiggled, trying to do my best not to cry out or move.

“Next time it will be ten. Now, what did you say about my decision?  You think it sucks?”

Oh crap oh crap oh crap…

“When did it become your duty to pass judgment on my decisions?” He demanded.  The paddle came down hard over my bare bottom punctuating his words with a flurry of angry smacks.

I shook my head, “I’m not, I’m not, I’m not” I cried.

“Yes, you did.  Do not argue with me. ”

I put my head back down on the floor as he continued my punishment.

I tell you your thoughts and your feelings.  When I make a decision, you will comply and you will do it happily.  I do not want to hear that you think it ‘sucks’! Do. you. under. stand? I decide what you need and don’t need.  That is not up to you.  Your only desire should be to please me.” The paddle rained down frenetically.

I needed this and you took it away.  You not only said “no” you said “never.” It was not too much to ask, I am sure of it.  I don’t understand.  I feel unimportant, unappreciated, worthless in your eyes.  And if that is not enough, I am supposed to be happy about it? To want it this way because you told me to?

And with that I burst into a big ugly sob, coughing and sputtering, my heart shifting in my chest.  It was not the loss of what I wanted, but the invasion into my being that drove me to this outburst.  He wanted to mold my thoughts and feelings to his will, to truly become one with him, giving myself completely over to him. I cried because for the first time I felt it happening,  the slide of my self into him.

I felt the paddle rest quietly on my back.

“Calm down” he said softly.  I began to slow my breathing, regaining some composure.  Feeling the paddle on my back gave me a slight feeling of reassurance that it was not currently making it’s decent towards my bottom.

It’s what I wanted, what I asked for – to meld with him – his desires becoming completely mine, my only thought, his happiness.  His most fleeting whim consuming my undivided attention. To think his thoughts, believe his beliefs… And yet I cry. Mourning the initial symptoms of dying to Self?

With the paddle still resting firmly on my behind, I felt a sharp thwack.  My mind registered the wooden spatula making contact with my sore bottom.  I jumped with the unexpected strike.  The spatula cracked down repeatedly as I absorbed the lesson.

This is how he feels when I cause problems…ambushed during a perfectly pleasant afternoon.

“It is good that you experience what you do to me” He said as he continued to strike me.  “I will inflict on you the pain you cause me.”

I nodded in acceptance and understanding.

“It is your job to calm me when I get angry.  It doesn’t matter why I am angry, I need you to help me relax.  You can talk to me, rub my neck, suck my cock – whatever it takes.  But you do not react in anger.  I will not tolerate it.  And you will speak to me respectfully.  I am tired of your constant disrespect!”

“Yes, Husband” I said

He began stroking my back with the crop running it all over my naked flesh

“You must open yourself fully to me.  You know I have never given up on you after all these years.  That is why it angers me that you think I don’t care about you.”

“You must trust me completely.  Stop running away, stop trying to hide.  Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Husband” I moaned feeling the pleasure build between my legs.

“Now come here” he said.

I turned and kneeled before him looking up into his beautiful caring eyes.

“Now give me pleasure…And I want you to come for me, show me how much you desire to please me”

As I took him in my mouth my body shook as waves of pleasure overwhelmed me.

My Big Mouth

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We were playing before I had to go to work when I smiled and asked him “Hey…Are you going to make me late and use it as an excuse to spank me?”

“I don’t need an excuse to spank you” He said, grinning evilly.

“Because this is your ass and you can do what you want with it?”

“That and because you keep getting into trouble and earning spankings all on your own.  I already owe you eight from yesterday when you were late.”

“But that wasn’t my fault,” I said playfully. “I was ready on time, but I lost my water bottle and I know you wouldn’t want me to get dehydrated so I had to find it.”

“OK that’s 16 for arguing”

“No, not arguing, just being silly.” I said while pouting and giving him puppy eyes.

“Alright 12 then”

“Why oh why do I open my big mouth?” Oh yeah I think as he pushes my head back down on his cock.

Her – A Fantasy

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I love strong men.  I need a strong man in my life, the way I need air or good coffee.  Around him, I center.  He is my focus, my purpose, my desire.  Life without him would be void.

And yet, when I become close with a beautiful woman, I feel absolutely predatory. I want to possess her, top her, make her scream .  I want to wind my fingers through her hair, pull her to me and force my tongue in her mouth.  I want to run my hands over her breasts and down between her legs.  I want her to kneel for me; I want cause the co-mingling of pain and pleasure in her.  I want to make her moan, make her mine if only for that moment.

Which all makes ordinary conversation rather difficult.  Fantasies playing out in my head accompanied by the tune of The Nameless.  In my heart she is my friend and this is nothing more than fantasy.  But it is an increasingly distracting fantasy when she is chatting away about the kids or the house or some-such.

I have come to notice that my female friends have always been stunningly beautiful.  I think I seek out friends I desire.  Yet, I cannot make a move.  I am taken, owned, loved.  I would never cheat.  But it makes for an interesting lunch date.

Asleep at His Feet

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I love to curl up at his feet.  I feel safe, loved, and perfectly subby.  It is my “place”, a reminder, my “home.”  It is the one place in this world I can truly relax.  And it is why I often fall asleep there.

He doesn’t mind my lying near him, but he does not like me sleeping there.  He thinks if I am tired enough to go to sleep, then I should go to bed. I don’t like to go to bed without him.

The other night I had fallen asleep on the floor again.  He was being playful and poked me in the side but I was too sleepy to see the humor and grumbled at him, pushing his hand away.

He woke me and told me to go to bed.  I heard him coming up the stairs as I was getting ready. I knew I was in trouble but was hoping he was too tired to initiate anything.

He had me get in position and spanked me soundly for my attitude.  He told me I was no longer allowed to fall asleep on the floor.  I cried gently.  I told him why it was important to me but he was not swayed. I wanted him to understand and to allow this one desire, but I realized that I must give him what he wants regardless of what I want.  It is the difference between feeling submissive and actually being submissive.

It is difficult when a girl has the desire to feel submissive and yet is told to do things that undermine that feeling.  I had the same thought while reading an old post (and the following comments) entitled The Missionary Position over at Taken in Hand.  Some women stated they would only have sex in what they see as male dominant positions even if their top/owner/HOH type wanted them to be on top.

I struggled with this in the beginning of our relationship.  I can orgasm in any position, but to truly feel sated, I must feel subdued, conquered and ruled by him.  I want to feel his control as strongly as his desire.  I wanted to refuse when he would tell me to get on top.  I believe I complained a bit in the beginning, but he wouldn’t hear it.  If he wanted me on top, then that is where I would be.

My Favorite Position

Talking in Position

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When I came home he was busy.  It was my first morning off and I wanted to spend time with him.  I was patient, waiting quietly at his feet.  Occasionally he would ask me a question and I would answer but when I attempted to continue the conversation he would already be immersed in his work.  I tried not to interrupt him but at times I found him growling at me for talking.  I decided to go take a nap.

I went upstairs and then decided to call downstairs to him and ask him if he would tuck me in.  I was hoping maybe we could play for a bit or at least I could curl up next to him.  He sighed and told me that I had been nothing but an interruption all morning.  I told him never mind and closed the door to the bedroom, undressing and crawling into bed.

I began to cry, feeling alone, abandoned and worthless.  My mind replayed his words continually.  I felt like a burden, unwanted and forgettable.  I heard him open the door and sit on the bed next to me.  He asked me what was wrong.

I tried to tell him through my tears.  He told me to get into position.  I shivered as I complied.  I felt the crop drawn across my naked bottom and a gentle tap on each cheek.  He began to talk to me, to draw out of me what was wrong, my fears and insecurities.  He spoke to me of the truth of his feelings for me.  It was difficult to have a conversation feeling so exposed but it kept me in a submissive frame of mind.  I had no desire to accuse or argue, only to listen and accept his words as truth.

When he was done talking to me he told me to crawl down onto the floor and resume my position.  He picked up the large paddle and got behind me.

“How many minutes late did you leave last night?”

“Three…It was 9:48 on the clock in the kitchen”

“So you were still in the kitchen at 9:48?  You should have been in the car by 9:45.  You were 4 minutes late.”  I nodded, arguing would only make the punishment worse – and I believed him.  He is much more aware of time than I am.

“And what was the consequence for being late?”

“Four spankings for each minute I was late,” I groaned.

“You will thank me for each spanking.”

“Yes….”

I am not used to having to speak, usually there is some type of cloth in my mouth and a demand for silence.  So the entire process sounded something like

<Smack> “Owww…thank you” <Smack> “Owwww…thank you” <Smack> “Quit moving!” “Owww…thank you”

“Next time it will be eight spankings for each minute late. Do you see how this is going?”

“Yes” I cried turning and kissing his foot.

He told me I would not have time for a nap and to get dressed and come downstairs to make lunch.

I love how this makes the distances between us close so perfectly.  There is no need to fight or blame – no more anger and withdrawal. Just punishment and acceptance and we can have a beautiful rest of the day.

Excuses or Reasons

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It really is beyond me how I can get in trouble for something one day and then turn around and manage to do the exact same thing the next day.  It is not that I am trying to be disobedient.  I am often more frustrated with myself than he is with me.

I had a number of things to get done after work and by the time I had them all complete I was wound and couldn’t sleep.  I ended up going to bed late, which then caused me to hit snooze on my alarm several times without thinking which caused me to leave the house late again.  (3 minutes to be exact…and yes I am actually getting to work on time – little does that impress the Husband though).  I hate that I keep doing this to him.  And I am sad that I tried so hard today to do everything perfectly and yet it will all be overshadowed by being late.

This ties into my comment yesterday about “little things”.  I know there is no excuse since he makes the rules and I am to obey, however I struggle with his assessment that I am consistently disobedient.  His belief is that obedience is absolute otherwise it is just agreeing with what you feel like doing and ignoring the rest.  I believe that I am doing my best to obey but face struggles that have plagued me my entire life.  I am not being willful in my disobedience (except when I argue and lose control of my emotions).

Part of my problem is that I never had much in the way of actual parenting.  Punishments were rare (other than getting hit for being overly mouthy) and teaching was non existent.  I never learned to cook or clean or be responsible for myself.  I was sent away to boarding school when I became too much trouble for them.

My first marriage held little in the way of expectations and was a disaster of drugs, abuse and craziness.  So trying to function in a normal environment has been difficult. I never learned basic life skills or time management.

My other issue is that I have ADD, depression and anxiety disorders.  (Diagnosed and on meds).  So I often truly forget, or get overwhelmed or panic and can’t  leave the house, therefore some tasks get missed or are left undone.

I am expected to work full time, do the housework, cook, serve him his food/drinks etc., make all the appointments, run all the errands, plus whatever tasks come up (find this, fetch that etc) and I don’t complain (often to him) about it.  I like to take care of him and serve him.  But sometimes things slip through the cracks.  Like the waste basket.  I took out all the rest of the garbage and managed to forget one waste basket.  And once the overall task (take out the garbage) is complete in my mind, I won’t think about it again, so the forgotten item stays forgotten.  I am not being disobedient, just forgetful.  He feels that if my obedience was important enough I would make sure (somehow) that I don’t forget.

As far as being on time is concerned – I don’t know.  I honestly can be ready an hour ahead of time and still be late.  I have no concept of time and just because a task took me five minutes yesterday doesn’t mean it won’t take 15 minutes today.  I don’t want to be late it upsets Husband and is rude to others.  I am angry and frustrated with myself and really not looking forward to seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

So those are my reasons/excuses.  I know it doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme but I need to find a way around these things so I don’t cause so many problems at home, and don’t end up with such a red bottom.

I wonder sometimes what the difference is between reasons and excuses.  He seems to see my reasons as excuses.  The best I can figure is that a reason is what I think in my own head, and an excuse is when I say those reasons to him.

Reckoning

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It is always at that point when I let my guard down, when I think he won’t notice or care, that I push too far and find myself at the wrong end of the paddle.

I came home this morning rather depressed, planning to take a sleeping pill and sleep the day away.  He woke up as I was completing my morning chores.  I got him his tea,water and medicine.  He went immediately to work on some financial stuff which frustrated me more.  I kept thinking that I would only be up for a few minutes, and couldn’t he at least acknowledge my existence? I made him his breakfast and sat down with him while he ate and I let my pill kick in.  I didn’t say much but I can imagine I wasn’t the most pleasant of company.  I was tired and just sick of waiting for him to notice me.

I began to get sleepy and headed off to bed (I am actually supposed to ask to go to bed but since I asked to take my pill – I assumed this was a given).  As I was walking up the stairs to sleep he asked me when I would be getting up.  I told him “by 8pm” in a snotty ‘I am going to do what I want’ kind of voice (It was 9am at this point).  He asked me if I didn’t think that it was a little long to be sleeping.  I said no, that I was depressed and didn’t feel like being awake any longer.  He said I could talk to him if I wanted.

When, oh when, will I learn that talking to him when I am in a crappy mood will only end with my having a sore bottom and a mouth full of cock?

I sat down on the floor next to him and basically told him that my depression was his fault for being distant and that he shouldn’t expect me to act happy if I was miserable – and that he was making me miserable.  (ugggg – stupid mouth of mine!)  That went over about as well as to be expected.  When I realized that he was thoroughly pissed at me, I decided this was the time to get away and go to bed.  I stood up, mid conversation and walked upstairs.

He told me to come back.  I did, sitting on the floor at a distance from him.  I knew in my heart that he wanted me to kneel but I just didn’t care at the time.  He gave me “the look” and told me to get on my knees with my face on the floor.  I complied.

Do you think that my being distant gives you the right to act like a bitch?  You should have presented yourself before me without having to be told.  You accuse me, while all the time being disobedient and disrespectful yourself.  You need to examine your own behavior before you dare question mine. 

All I ask of you is your obedience.  Why do you disobey me?”

“I thought I have been obeying you,” I said

“Oh really?” He laughed and told me to go upstairs.

He was sitting on the bed, paddle in hand watching me.

I crawled naked onto the bed, getting into position. My heart began to race, kneeling, head on the bed, waiting.

“So… you think you do everything I tell you to?” He asked

Being exposed and seconds away from a spanking makes a girl a bit more contrite and introspective “Not everything.” I said.

We are going to review what you have failed to do.  I was jumpy, anticipating the first smack.  He put the paddle on my mid back to remind me to stay still.

“How many minutes were you late leaving on Sunday?”

“Five” I felt the paddle smack hard onto my ass.  I squirmed unintentionally as the paddle came down again and again.  I was already emotional and the pain made me cry almost immediately.

“That was Ten.  Two for each minute you were late.”  He put the paddle on my mid back again.  “You will learn to control yourself.  You will learn to control your emotions.  No moving.  How late did you leave last night?”

“I thought I left on time”

“You didn’t.  You were five minutes late again.”

He spanked me another ten times.  “The next time you are late you will receive four per minute.”

“When did I tell you to empty the laundry baskets?”

“Just today, I thought”.

“No, I mentioned it last week”. (I had put away his things but was living out of laundry baskets for myself). “That is seven” The spankings came hard and fast.  “And when did I tell you to take out the waste-basket?”

“Last week…”

“Ten days ago to be exact” And another ten hits rained down on my exposed bottom.

“This morning, when you came home, you saw I left the files open on your computer that you were supposed to sort through. Don’t you think that was a good reminder? Don’t you think that you shouldn’t have ignored it?”

“Yeesss…”

“Yes?” Smack… “Yes?” Smack

“Yeeess….Master”

“Why do you ignore me?”  “Why do you think you are obeying me when there are so many things you have failed to do?”

“I forget sometimes and I think they are just little things.”

THERE

<Smack>

ARE

<Smack>

NO

<Smack>

LITTLE

<Smack>

THINGS!

<Smack>

I nodded. I couldn’t speak.  There was no defense, no justification.  Only shame and sorrow.
He put the paddle down and picked up the crop.  “This is for being disrespectful and disobedient.” he said, hitting me repeatedly across my bottom with the crop.   “I will break that will of yours.”

I don’t know how long the spanking continued.  The pain washed over me along with the sadness of my crimes. I cried deeply.  When he finished, he called me to him and put my mouth on his cock.   He pushed himself down my throat.

He grabbed my hair thrusting deep into my mouth causing me to gag.  “It seems you need more practice” he said.  “Would you like me to tie you to the bed and jam a dildo down your throat? I like to put toys in places they wont fit…yet.  Would you like that? Maybe I should save that for a punishment in case these spankings don’t work.”  He held my hair with one hand and began spanking me with the crop with the other.

He put the crop behind my head holding it in place and thrust deep inside me until he came.  I collapsed in a pile between his legs feeling warm and at peace. I am his.

Adrift

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Last night he growled at me for leaving the house late to get to work.  I managed to make it on time anyway.  I texted to tell him that I made it on time and to ask him if we were OK.  He said yes but that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t be punished for leaving late.  I said I understood.

Today there was no mention of being late or punishment.  He is wrapped up in his own world.  When I try to talk to him he is only minimally responsive.  I have talked to him before about needing him to be consistent with the rules.  It makes me feel out of control when he dismisses them (me).

I know it is part of who he is.  His brilliance causes him to get lost in his head at times.  He gets focused on an idea or project and can’t pull away.  I know better than to let it get to me, but I still do.

Being at work tonight makes me feel adrift.  I tried to text him but he barely answers (2 ya’s was about the gist of it). I can’t help but feeling that since it is his decision that I work, and that I am supposed to be doing this to serve him, that he could at least be there for me when I need him.  As it is, I feel that he is thrilled to have me out of the house four nights a week.  I could use some reassurance if that is not the case.

I know “It’s not all about me”.  He reminds me of that regularly.  I am only writing here to prevent texting him again.  I want to tell him how alone he makes me feel when he is distant, but it would get nowhere.  He believes I should be responsible for my emotions and that he cannot “cause” me to feel a certain way.   If the person who you have made it your life’s ambition to make happy is ignoring you, how are you supposed to feel?  Indifference is not a character trait I have been blessed with.

I suppose I am one of those people who need the daily reminder – the collar, the reminder spankings, the kneeling, the formalities.  It is difficult when I start slipping into the vanilla wife routine.   It is those times when I feel as though I might just disappear.  I see myself through his eyes – what do I become when he is not looking?

I know it is not my place to question him or to make demands on him.  I am trying to limit my requests of him as well.  I desire to fully get out of myself and live only for him.  How do I stop wanting/expecting things from him?

Something Beautiful

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I awoke feeling dark, sad and alone.  I pressed my body into his and waited for him to awaken.  I was trembling inside when he finally opened his eyes.

He asked me what was wrong, told me to talk to him.  I spoke of fear, sadness, abandonment.  I wanted reassurances.  I needed to know he would never leave. I told him that when I had to work, it made me feel as though he was sending me away – and that I hated being away from him.

I told him I was feeling far away, that I was unable to connect to him.  That I was feeling like a burden; that I was poisonous, unlovable.  I burst into tears.  He held me for a moment while I cried.  Then he got up and rolled me on to my stomach, leaving his hand on my lower back communicating “stay”.  He grabbed the large paddle from the side of the bed.  I felt it crack down across my bare ass.  I cried out but he told me to be quiet, and not to move.  As he continued to spank me he said

You are out of control and it is my job to get you under control.   I am not sending you away when you work, you are serving me. You are mine, this is my brand…if I have to mark your ass every day so be it.  You are my property.  I will never let you go.  I will consume you before I ever let you go.

He rolled me onto my side, kissing me and grabbing my tits hard.  I told him that was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.

Besides, I would be crazy to give this up.  I love your body, I love how you feel.  I love the things you do to me. This – all of this – is beautiful.

He grabbed the back of my head by my hair and pushed my mouth down on his cock.  As I pleasured him I felt at peace, owned, loved.  I never wanted this morning to end.