feeling it

I was still sore from my spankings when I woke up this morning and sitting on the sofa with my coffee was a slightly delicate process. It was challenging to find a comfortable position given the differing levels and areas of soreness left from two days of spanking but I have to admit that I’m loving every minute of it. I’m especially enjoying Ma’am’s reactions to both my fidgeting and viewing her marks.

When Ma’am wordlessly took my hand and led me into the bedroom before she had to leave for work I was a little nervous - the bedroom usually means heavier pain and the fact that I was already sore didn't seem to bode well for me. I was right to be nervous...with my jeans on the floor, Ma’am had me bend over the side of the bed while she went about providing a very hard spanking. In this position, I tend to get up on my toes when the pain is intense – and Ma’am had me there several times. Fortunately, Ma’am’s intent this morning had not been to further mark me – she wanted me to remain sore today so that I would think of her as I sat in the hard desk chair while I was working.

So far it has been a wonderful weekend – I am a well-contented and well-spanked girl who is looking forward to what tomorrow brings. My task for today was to purchase some fresh ginger…which I hope we will be using tomorrow!

twice marked

As I mentioned yesterday, Ma’am was very pleased to have marked me on Thursday evening. And last night when her inspection proved that her marks were still there, I couldn’t help but laugh delightedly when I heard her triumphant chuckling coming from behind me. It has long been her frustration that my ever-resilient bottom does not retain evidence of her attentions and so it was no surprise a little later in the evening when she ordered me to drop my pants and assume the position.

Once I was settled over her lap, Ma’am spent some time admiring her handiwork with both her eyes and her hands. Her intentions were clearly evident - she was proud of her marks and she wanted to add to them. I could already see that the wooden spoon and tawes were within arms reach but there was something behind her back that she was hiding. It turned out to be a wide wooden hairbrush.

While both were enjoyable, Friday night’s spanking was a vastly different experience than Thursday’s. Still being sore in the places that Ma’am most likes to strike, it was more painful from the start. But when her attention turned toward pressing, pinching and squeezing my hot and sore bottom, the feeling was truly divine. I was so sensitive that even the softest caress resulted in shivers of pleasure down my spine. The unfortunate side effect was that the sensitivity made me less able to tolerate her harder strokes – especially from the hairbrush and spoon – and Ma’am found herself holding back.

The new marks she left were much more red and obvious than Thursday’s had been. When I showed them to her she seemed almost surprised, as if she hadn’t expected that she would be able to mark me 2 days in a row. But she was thrilled to see them...so much so that she took a few photos.

drop kick

I don’t drop often and have never dropped as badly as I did earlier this week… my mood swings were so sudden and severe that they made me feel as if I was coming unhinged. Each day the mood swings became a little more frequent and of longer duration, my mental state a little murkier in the better moments. By Wednesday, my concentration was showing signs of strain and my only comfort was that in a few short hours I would finally be able to spend some much needed time with my Ma’am. So you can imagine how I felt when I received Ma’am’s text informing me that she would have to work and that I would be spending the evening alone. It was like a sucker punch and the emotional pendulum I’d been riding tossed me off into a sea of petulance and misery.

Despite not having seen me in a couple of days, Ma’am was well aware of what I had been going through. She knew that our aborted plans would likely have a detrimental effect on me and decided an intervention was in order. So she reminded me of how much she loves me and then stepped in and took control of my evening. Brief conversations provided instructions, tasks and an assignment to be completed – all designed to ensure that I took care of myself, to redirect my focus and to give me an opportunity to be of service. They were simple things when looked at individually. But combined into a greater whole, they achieved a significance and power which somehow managed to help me to reclaim my center and emotional balance. By the time I’d completed my first task, I could already feel the hold of the drop slackening. And by the time I took myself off to bed, the erratic excess emotion that had plagued me for days seemed to be just a memory.

On Thursday, Ma’am and I spent a pleasant and somewhat unusual evening together. We talked comfortably for hours about all manner of things and connected on level we hadn’t yet reached as Ma’am and girl. As the hour turned late, I noted with a playful pout that I had hoped the evening would include a beating. It wasn’t long before I was laid out over Ma’am’s lap, jeans and panties half-mast, fairly purring from the enthusiastic attention of Ma’am’s hands and her tawse. Amazingly enough, my too resilient bottom still bears her marks today – something Ma’am was mightily pleased with as they generally fade very quickly.

the currency of punishment

A new disciplinary policy went into effect this weekend – a system to track and provide correction for my smaller transgressions, those that Ma'am feels need to be dealt with yet do not warrant a strapping. The policy was inspired by a blog post we found on the web that Ma'am took a particular liking to.

Glass pebbles and stars have now become the currency of my punishment. In the middle of our living room an empty vase stands, flanked by two smaller vessels containing blue glass pebbles and translucent yellow stars. Each pebble placed in the vase will represent one firm swat to my bottom, earned by misconduct, improper focus, lapses of attention, or when Ma'am feels I am in need of a reminder. The little glass stars represent amnesty. If I am lucky enough to earn one of those, I may, with Ma'am's permission, remove a pebble from the vase and be forgiven a swat I'd previously earned.

It's a pretty arrangement with a less than pretty side. When I look at it, I don't see a jumble of pretty colored glass but a reminder to be well behaved and appropriately obedient. But I am reminded that my Ma'am loves me enough to provide discipline and additional motivation when I need it. And once the vase is no longer empty... I will be reminded of the ways I need to improve and that I do, in fact, need my Ma'am's discipline.

I wonder what my Ma'am sees when she looks upon the pebbles and stars?

over her knee

Last night, in appreciation of my preparing her a special dinner, Ma'am took me over her knee for the most delightful spanking! It's been ages since she's spanked me this way...more often than not lately it's been her pleasure to string me up and have her way with flogger, crop or cane. And while I do enjoy my time on the hook, I've missed the intimacy of being taken over her lap for a leisurely and sensual spanking.

When she gave me that look and patted the sofa next to her, I couldn't get over her lap fast enough. She spent a good amount of time caressing and grabbing my eager bottom before lowering my panties and by the time she'd delivered the first spank I felt like I was in heaven...

disciplinary fantasies

Last Tuesday, Ma'am sent me to work in my street collar. It was a punishment day and her intent was to ensure I achieved the proper attitude of contrition as it had been quite a while since that punishment had been earned. She wanted me to remember and to reinforce my state of mindfulness. Wearing her collar did it's intended job...frequently throughout the day my thoughts turned toward the “memory lapse” that led to the evening's business and my continued reflections on hidden motivations and leniency.

But what was unexpected were the little snippets of fantasy that came to me throughout the day. All were related to discipline – receiving a firm scolding as I knelt before my Ma'am, looking up into her eyes from my position on the floor; being thrown over her knee without warning for a spanking so hard and fast that proper counting is an impossibility; displaying my hot and reddened bottom for her with my panties half mast and jeans around my ankles.... Each of these moments pulled me from my sense of contrition into a place made more of excitement and arousal – which, I think, is not precisely the effect that Ma'am wanted to evoke.

Disciplinary fantasies, of course, are quite a different thing than punishment. They are uncolored by the emotion punishment brings with it as a matter of course. Within the framework of actual punishment my pleasant little daytime fantasies would not be arousing at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.

What this seems to tell me, though, is that my craving for more regular discipline and tighter control is something that continually lurks just below the surface of my mind. And if I'm not careful and diligent, it is very likely that these desires will continue to lead me off the path of obedience.