Welcoming Your Feedback: A Serious Spanking


About a week and a half ago, Tom and I had a rough few days.  

As I mentioned the other day on the blog, I had been working for quite some time on a  project for my job.  The project had been significantly stressing the both of us out for reasons that I cannot really get into.  The piece that is relevant for this story is that the project left me feeling considerable guilt and anxiety.  The psychology of it was complicated.  

On the day that this mini-fiasco began, Tom had had a trying day at work himself.  I came home from work feeling exhausted and guilty.  A constant litany of self-critical thoughts had been swirling through my mind for several days before this.  

So, we were talking in our bedroom and Tom was upset.  I asked him what I could do to help.  He first stated that he didn’t think that there was anything that I could do.  Then, he asked me a question about my work project.  I explained to him why I could not yet answer the question, but it irritated me that he asked and it put me on the defensive.  

He needed to leave to take one of our children somewhere.  He asked me where one of the kids’ belongings were, as it apparently wasn’t where I had thought it was.  At that point, I sort of lost it.  I stormed out of the bedroom and started looking for the missing item.  At one point in the process of my angrily looking around, Tom happened to be standing in my path.  

“Get out of my way,” I stated flatly.  He probably gave me an angry look at that point.  I frankly wasn’t even looking at him.  I was just annoyed that I was being asked to find this stupid lost item.  

I can’t remember if it was before he left with our child or after he came home, but he summoned me into the bedroom and read me the riot act about how disrespectful I had been.  He was doing the absolute “right” thing.  He has never scolded me for disrespect (not that it happens super often) and this is the exact sort of situation for which we agreed to put DD into place.

So, naturally, how did I respond?  “Well, I’m sorry.  I don’t know what to tell you.”  Then, I turned on my heel and walked out.  *facepalm*

In hindsight, he should have hauled me into our master bathroom, turned on the fan so the kids wouldn’t hear, and given me a good hard swat or several on my bottom right then and there.  I would like to believe that that would have gotten my attention and settled me down.  That is not a certainty, though.  I also want to be clear that I do not mean this as any sort of criticism of Tom.  It was an emotionally complicated situation and I don’t fault him for how he responded.  So, I walked out of the room after issuing my half-baked apology.  We avoided each other for a while after that.  

I hate it when we fight, which fortunately, isn’t often.  When we fight, all I generally want to do is talk it through and resolve it as quickly as possible.  Tom doesn’t always work that way.  He tends to need some space to calm down.  On my best days, I am able to tolerate that and to leave him alone for a while.

This particular evening was not one of my best.

Shortly after Tom went downstairs to eat his dinner, I followed him in order to try to talk.  I think I issued a more sincere apology at that point, but I was still worked up.  He tried at least twice to ask for space.  He suggested that we just drop the topic of what had originally upset us both.  I couldn’t do it.  I repeatedly interrupted him and kept pressing for resolution.  So, the conversation escalated again and he stormed back into our bedroom.  

Then, I really lost it.  I basically threw a tantrum.  I am too embarrassed to share the details of what I proceeded to do.  It wasn’t good and certainly wasn’t appropriate.  I may have thrown a few things. *cringe*  In my anger, I grabbed my keys and went to leave the house.   Knowing what I intended to do, Tom met up with me in the garage.
My tantrum continued.  Again, he angrily confronted me.  He said something like, “Your behavior is unacceptable.  You can’t turn DD off and on at will.”

Truthfully, I wasn’t intending to do that.  At that moment, I half-hoped that he would spank me then and there.

Like this.
But our kids were inside and the timing just was not conducive to that.  After a few more tense words, he told me to “stop my bloody tantrum” and went back inside, leaving me standing in the garage.

Having had some time to think about this whole exchange, I now realize that I feel abandoned when he leaves the scene when we’re both angry and upset.  Rationally, I know that he had several good reasons to go back inside when he did.  Emotionally, however, I just could not deal with it.  Cue more tantrum and at that point, I got into my car and angrily sped off. 

Obviously, while I was out (and without my phone), Tom was worried.  So was one of the children.  Honestly, I wanted Tom to be worried and I was too engulfed in pent up emotion about my work project and that evening’s drama to consider anything else (like my poor child’s feelings).

When I came home about half an hour later, Tom was in bed.  I asked him if we could talk and after a few tense words, we did.  During the conversation, he scolded me harshly for having lost my temper and for acting so irresponsibly.  He stated that he had thought I had gotten over such behavior years ago.  He also explained that I had filtered my entire experience of the evening through the guilt I was feeling about my work project.  He informed me that that I hadn’t been listening to a word he said all evening, as apparently he had tried a few times to explain where he was coming from.  That conversation culminated in my sobbing uncontrollably in the shower.  (Please understand how rarely this kind of thing happens.  I’m not a nutcase.  Honest.)  Tom stayed with me until I calmed down, I repeatedly apologized for everything, and we went to sleep.  

I felt horrible for the entire next day.  While I was at work, I sent Tom a text.

Princess:  Are you still my Daddy?
Tom:  I’m still your daddy.  Daddies never stop loving their little girls.

(Yeah, we have a bit of Daddy-Dom/little girl in our dynamic.  That’s a post for another time).

It was a perfect response – exactly what I wanted to hear.  Yet, I still didn’t feel better.  In fact, I cried intermittently throughout the next two days.  I felt such total disappointment in myself.


I apologized to Tom repeatedly over the course of that evening and the next day.  Although he was still upset, he was not holding a grudge.  He told me that he forgave me and that I didn’t need to continue to apologize.  I asked him if we should just stop doing DD.  I felt undeserving of it.  Here I had been, acting like the world’s worst wife ever and yet, I had asked all of the DD stuff from him.  I cannot overstate how horrible I felt about myself and about “everything.”  He calmly told me that we were not going to stop DD.  I don’t remember what else he said right then, but the “take home message” was that I would be getting a “bad girl spanking” the next evening.  Of course, I was not surprised at all to hear that.  Part of me welcomed it.  I had hopes that I could let go of my guilt after the spanking.  Another part of me feared it.  I knew that this would be, by far, the hardest and most authentic “punishment spanking” I had ever gotten from him.  I was nervous enough about it that my stomach hurt for most of the next afternoon.

That evening after the kids went to bed, he came into the bedroom and told me that it was time.  He ordered me to stand and bend over the bed.   I did as he said.  He pulled down my pants and started to lecture me calmly.

I wish I could remember exactly what he said, but I don’t.  He said something like, “I don’t want to have to do this to you, but you know our rules.  You pretty much ran the gamut – disrespect, danger, disobedience.  You really leave me no choice.”

He picked up two of our implements: our Cracker Barrel paddle and our DD paddle from the London Tanners.   For anyone not familiar, the Cracker Barrel paddle is a seven-ply wooden paddleball paddle with the string and ball removed.  Back in the day, it was quite popular amongst our peers in the world of TTWD.  I don’t see it referenced at all anymore.  The London Tanners DD paddle is our scariest implement.  It hurts.  

He started with the Cracker Barrel paddle and spanked every inch of my bare bottom.  He then switched to the DD paddle.  I didn’t count how many swats he gave me, but I was whimpering and “ouch”-ing with each one.  Then, he returned to the Cracker Barrel paddle and started paddling me in sets of three quick swats all in the same place.  My whimpers intensified right along with the spanking.  Finally, he stopped and switched back to the DD paddle…

… and then, there was a knock on our bedroom door. 

I mean, of course, right?  Never before have we ever been overheard by one of our children (who fortunately, just expressed concern that something had fallen somewhere), so of course, it would happen that night.

When we heard the knock, I jumped up and ran into the master bathroom behind a closed door.  Tom dealt with our child and sent her back to bed.  Then, he came back into the bedroom, gave me a long hug while we stood in the threshold of the bedroom, and that was that.

The ending that I want to write here is that then, I went to bed happily and felt so, so much better.

That is not what happened.  And this is where I need your help, dear readers. 

I sat down on our bed and stared into space for several minutes.  Tom sat at his computer to play a game.  He could tell that something was wrong.  He asked me to talk to him.  I wanted to, but I honestly didn’t know what to say or what I was even feeling.

Gradually, I realized that I felt disappointed. Then, I felt guilty all over again for feeling disappointed.  He had given me a legitimate punishment spanking.  It could not have been accurately described as “wimpy” in any sort of way.  Despite that, there I sat with only a moderately sore, hot bottom.  I wanted more.  I wanted to be aching and acutely uncomfortable.  I also realized that the interruption had significantly impacted my experience of the punishment.  More disappointment.  

As these realities set in, I started crying again.  Not only was I disappointed in the experience, but I still felt profoundly disappointed in myself.  I still felt like a “bad girl.”  It sucked.

So, here are my questions:
  • What thoughts do you have about why I felt so disappointed after the spanking?  Do you think that it was primarily due to having been disrupted?
  •  With regard to how hard the spanking was, am I seeking a post-spanking sensation that is fictional?  I mean, I have read in various places that the “so sore you can’t sit down” thing isn’t very realistic.  Again, the spanking was hard and it did hurt.   It was the hardest spanking Tom has ever given me. I don’t know how else to say it, though.  Frankly, I wanted an extremely sore bottom -- a punished bottom that would acutely hurt for at least a few hours.  Is that real?  Is that a thing?  If so, how is that achieved?  (Of course, I know that everyone has different pain tolerances, etc.)
Eventually, I was able to tearfully share my thoughts and feelings with Tom.  I had figured out what I needed right then and for the first time ever in our marriage, I just flat out asked.  I asked him to stay with me and to stroke my hair while we laid in bed.  He did.  It helped me to calm down and go to sleep.  I felt loved.

The next morning, I felt much better.  I remained in better spirits for the entire week.  Was it because of the spanking?  Was it because I didn’t have any more tears to shed over the whole stupid situation?  Do I overthink these things? (Don’t answer that last question.)  I have no idea… but I am very happy to have that whole fiasco behind us!

Love Our Lurkers (LOL) Days



Today and tomorrow mark the annual arrival of Love Our Lurkers (LOL) Days!  Won't you help me celebrate?

I know that I am pretty new to blogland, but I am truly grateful to each of you who have taken the time to visit my little corner of the interwebs thus far.  

I understand lurking.  I did it for a long time.  I worried about my privacy.  I felt like an outsider looking in.  I feared that my comments might be judged negatively.  Point is, if you are a lurker, I get that you have your reasons.

That having been said, I want to invite you to consider leaving even just a simple hello today or tomorrow.  I won't bite, I promise.  I'm a sweet little princess, remember?

Let's try this.  (And I freely admit that this is not even close to an original idea).  For each comment that I receive today and tomorrow, Tom has agreed to give me one spank.  My fate is in your hands, dear lurker.   

After LOL Days (and after I post about the serious spanking I got last week, which I have unfortunately not been able to get to this week - sorry about that...), I will post to tell you all about my LOL spanking.  Deal?  Mm-kay.

Annnnnnd go!

💖 Princessimp

Coming Attractions

Hey, gang.  I'm sorry for being MIA for the last little bit.  I have been working on a big project for my job and that has had to take priority.  I am *finally* finished, though.  So, I should have more time to post.

So, please stay tuned for the following...

  • Love Our Lurkers (LOL) days are fast approaching on November 16 and 17.  I must admit that I feel like a bit of a wannabe by mentioning this, as it's not as if I am an established blogger at this point.  On the other hand, I see my stats on the blog and I see that there are waaaaay more visitors than commenters.  I get it.  I was a lurker for a long time too.  But... consider dropping by this Friday or Saturday and leaving me a quick "hello."  Should I bribe you?  Should I ask Tom to give me one spank per comment left over the two LOL days?  I'll do it.  I swear I will.  Hahaha.
  • Speaking of spanking... I have gotten three since posting last.  One for maintenance, one for relatively minor punishment, and one very serious punishment.  I want to tell you guys about that last one.  I am aiming to get that posted within the next few days.


Until then, have a great week, guys!

💖 PrincessImp

Resistance


First of all, let me just say that I have checked my Blogger dashboard every single day since making my first posts but it wasn’t until the beginning of this week that I stumbled upon the comments that had been left for me.   Duh!  I had completely forgotten that I set things up so that comments required approval. Thank you for your kind words!  

I have spent a lot of my life fantasizing about domestic discipline, even before I knew that it had a name.  In my made-up DD scenarios, the HoH is always the same.  He sets strict rules, delivers swift punishment, is lovingly stern, and provides continuous accountability.  He creates an environment of emotional security.  He protects and cherishes his sweet little TiH.  I truly want all of this.  Badly.  Tom agreeing to work to provide it to me, despite its not necessarily being “his thing” has been the greatest gift he has ever given me.  Really.  It is just like him to try, though.  He has always had an amazing capacity for love. When he “checks in” with me each evening to ensure that I have complied with his expectations, I feel calmed and fulfilled.  I heave a contented sigh and snuggle down under my covers to go to sleep.

Why then, do I sometimes resist submitting to him?

When he orders me over the bed for a well-deserved spanking, I want so desperately to respond to his questions or scolding with “Yes, Sir” or “No, Sir.”  Often, I don’t.  When he confronts me about why I broke one of our rules, I tend to break eye contact.  When he determines that I have earned a punishment, I sometimes argue the finer details about what I did or did not do.  When he gave me the bedtime that I had secretly been wanting for over a year, I immediately wanted to take back my request.  (I didn’t, though!)


At this point in our dynamic, it isn’t even that Tom gets after me for these instances of resistance.  He typically doesn’t.  It’s simply that my reluctance to give up my will disappoints me a little bit.  I know that we are all a work in progress.

I have considered that I resist because I am testing to see whether he will set a limit.  I have also considered that I resist because I still struggle with feelings of shame and embarrassment about wanting to be made to obey my husband.

There is truth to both of those thoughts. Ultimately, though, I think that I resist because submission is difficult!  It requires humility.  It requires my acceptance that although Tom would never consider me less than his equal, our balance of power is not equal.  It requires me to allow myself to be scolded like a child sometimes, and not to respond by stomping my foot and insisting that I will not be told what to do.  How’s that for irony?  Many may read this and think, “Uh, duh, Princess.  Yeah.  Submission isn’t always easy.”  This is a relatively new realization for me!  I mean, it's all so seamless in my fantasies!  So, please bear with me.

Responding with “Yes, Sir” or “No, Sir” when Tom provides discipline would blatantly illustrate – to both of us – that he has the control in those moments and that I do not.  To submit in this way would force me to actively demonstrate my respect for his authority.  

Maintaining eye contact with Tom during a lecture would put me in touch with the shame and discomfort of being scolded.  It would force me to confront that I am indeed “in trouble” and that this is not a game we are playing.  It would mean that I would have to admit to myself and to Tom that I failed to live up to my responsibilities to him, to our marriage, and to our family.

Resisting temptation to argue when he determines that I have broken a rule would convey my full acceptance that he has the final word.  It would communicate my trust in him to hold me accountable in a manner that he sees fit.  It would require my working to tolerate that he does not owe me an illustration of his decision tree whenever he issues a consequence.

I want to work toward all of that.  So, I have recently asked Tom to hold me to these standards and he has agreed.  That is how it should be, right?  To do anything else would make a mockery of what I have asked for and of his giving of himself to provide what I need.  I love him – and us – too much to strive for anything less.


💖 PrincessImp