Welcome to the Round Table. I’ve lurked around the last couple, so I was happy to join in this time. Spanking Romance (a promotional site run by Renee Rose and funded by Blushing Books) sets it up, and each time it’s hosted by a different member of the community who keeps us on track and thinks of the discussion questions. It’s not easy, so I want to thank this Round Table’s hostess, Corinne Alexander upfront for doing an amazing job. She invited me personally, and I really thank her for reaching out to me and helping me get the guts to join this one, since I need an extra kick in the ass.
This round table discussion is about DD. Being in a DD relationship for 6 years has made me really excited about this issue and so interested in what the others will have to say. Remember, I write purely based on my own experiences, which have led to my current opinions and insights. All my opinions might be changed tomorrow, but my experiences won’t.
Experience has been a real eye-opener. See, when I was a preteen, I found out about DD and started to fantasize about it. Based on those fantasies, I decided that it was the type of relationship and lifestyle I wanted. I think I fantasized it to be the easiest lifestyle in the world, one that would make my life fall happily into place once it was implemented. My husband would conquer and tame me, we would never fight, and he would always be right, and I’d enjoy my punishments far more than I should.
That fantasy actually held strong for nearly ten years—in my defense, I lived very free from DDers or the kinkster community. I lived, and went to college in, Vanilla-ville, and certainly never brought up the topic with any of my friends.
My friends would have to be told what DD was before they could begin with their objections. And they would object. When I eventually told them about it, they wondered why on earth I’d fantasize about abuse (which was all DD was in their minds), eventually concluding that I was just extremely sexually depraved. Even today some of them still seem to think that James brainwashed me, even though they know I found him after I talked to them about it.
You see, when many vanillas look upon DD in terms of a long-term lifestyle, they see only potential negative consequences. Here’s what they’ll probably think the participants’ lives and roles in the relationship will look like in the future:
Head of Household (Top, Husband)
Submissive (Bottom, Wife)
I totally understood why my friends were concerned, I just figured that they were 100% wrong and didn’t know what they were talking about—that I had the right of it. Later on, after meeting a lot of kinksters and those who want a DD relationship, I discovered that I wasn’t alone in my hopes, dreams, and beliefs surrounding the lifestyle. I think even in the community of people who know about DD, and who want to be in a similar relationship, many people think that DD has more power to change their lives than it does.
It was a tall order—and the weird thing is even when reality washed through, I ended up with a lot of my list! James is bigger and stronger than me, he can hold me down for a spanking, and he is the most smart, responsible, and dedicated man I know.
But I digress.
My experience quickly showed that I don’t actually like getting spanked—well, not for discipline. I will go to great lengths to avoid it, and neither of us get turned on by a real disciplinary spanking in real-time. (Later in the day or down the road we might look back on it and call it ‘hot’, but we really don’t think that at the time.)
And you know what? That’s the point! Discipline = Not Fun… but that’s the way it had to be for me for this to work. If he went around looking for reasons to spank me, or if I didn’t respond the way he wanted me to, this lifestyle would have been dead within months.
If James even took a fraction of the opportunities he’s come across to discipline me, I would probably have felt beaten down. I make a spanking-worthy mistake every other day! So, James now only spanks me for more extreme offenses. Things we’ve discussed before a million times, etc.
It would feel unfair to me that James never gets punished except that he holds himself steadfastly to a high standard. It’s hard to get angry at him, because he gets so apologetic and angry at himself when he messes up.
That being said, we do fight. Discipline can’t always be pulled out to resolve conflict. And as with every relationship—there will be conflict. There will be angry words and tears and you will have to learn what not to say as well as what to say to make your relationship work. You have to learn to choose your battles and compromise. It’s hard work, and it’s worth it. But DD isn’t a procedure that anyone can perform on their marriage and it be a cure all, because in the wrong hands, or in the hands of people that have unrealistic expectations for their partner, DD can lead to an unhappy and unhealthy relationship.
The big mistake I was making in my initial DD fantasies was that I imagined the relationship would be completely focused on me—I would live for me, and the HoH would live for me.
You need to be living for each other’s happiness. If you can get happiness while your partner’s not happy, then DD is probably not for you. It can destroy your relationship. Even when your HoH disciplines, he can’t be happy about it. If he was happy about having to cause you unhappiness, you might have a situation on your hands. That’s not the recipe for a good DD relationship, or any good relationship at all.
But here’s the good news—in my experience, at least—about DD.
It can help you prove your trust & dedication for your partner.
Not a lot of couples have the ability to show their trust for each other in the way DD does and as often as it does. DD is one partner gaining power and responsibility from the other to do the right thing, and it’s acknowledged from both sides. Every time discipline is performed, the trust is refreshed—you give it over / receive it again. I think the frequency of this helps intimacy and the bond of a relationship as well as the self-confidence of the HoH and both get to show that they trust the strength of their bond, making it stronger each and every time.
It raises the standard.
James can make me be a better wife. He makes sure I do what I’ve agreed to do in our partnership and that I actually do what I’ve vowed to do, like be a good helpmate to him. However, he has to hold himself to a higher standard to be able to honestly believe he deserves the responsibility to discipline me—he always strives to be a better husband.
We’ve all seen War of the Roses, but surprisingly a lot of people war with their husband in their own—normally less crazy—ways. “Oh, he bought himself a new car without asking me, so I get to buy this new wardrobe without telling him,” or “If she can’t be bothered to make dinner, then I’m not gonna bother to take out the trash.” I don’t have to deal with that. If what I did is bad enough, he should spank me. If it wasn’t so bad that he spanked me, then it’s not worth getting in a twist over. He should let it go—and he usually does—and then we move on. Me? All I have to do is say, “You wouldn’t let me do that!” and if it is true, James, horrorstruck, will normally concede. It’s actually quite freeing not having resentments brewing inside of us.
Okay, when it comes to things that ‘resolve’ behavior, it’s done fast. I mean, for most things it’s less than five minutes of spanking. Resentment and disappointment normally last much longer.
I should probably add at this point that I think that those reasons alone are enough. We think it’s helped our relationship and our closeness, strengthening our friendship, partnership, and intimacy.
But do we think it’s for everyone? No. It’s all about personalities, individuals, and their own personal strengths and weaknesses. Masochists may need something other than spanking for discipline, for example. If one’s husband is having trouble disciplining himself with his money or responsibilities, then he might still be a fantastic, loving husband, but may not be the best candidate to be the HoH and the disciplinarian.
WHAT ABOUT YOU?!
This is a round-table discussion, so click on the links below to go to the next discussion about DD. For readers and lurkers, though, please comment! I never know what to comment myself, so if you’re stumped, here’s some questions!!
For those in a DD relationship, how does the reality of the relationship compare to what you anticipated beforehand? For those interested in DD, what would be your hopes, fears, and expectations in a DD relationship?
This is a Blog Hop!
I’ve responded about this on other people’s blogs but I’ve never posted anything about this before on my own. I’ve heard of a lot of people “coming out” as spankos, as in they tell their vanilla family and friends what they’re up to. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. Really, it’s all about the delivery.
You could do it this way:
YOUR FRIEND: I don’t know why people like 50 Shades of Grey. It just has a bunch of BDSM and spanking.
YOU: Well, duh. Because spanking and BDSM is totally hot. Me and my husband even partake sometimes. We’re totally into it.
YOUR FRIEND: (laughing) Wow. Okay. TMI. Nevermind.
OUTCOME: There’s very low chance of sling-back because you’re acting so casual about it, and there’s a hidden, ‘We do this but we also do other stuff, too’, message. You’re implying that you’re just talking about the bedroom, and not really going into specifics, like how you obsess about spanking all the time. They’re not even thinking about it in the way you do it. Say something like this, and they’ll think you end your play at the line where you’re tied up or that he might give you a couple of spanks on the rump as he’s hard-fucking you from behind. Maybe even a playful swat outside the bedroom. Lots of non-spankos do the same thing.
In short, you didn’t come out as a spanko., even (which, because spanko could be talked about like a sexual taste and not a lifestyle, so it’s different and more accepted), let alone a wife in a DD relationship. Maybe you will; this is an excellent first step. It’s prep work, but it’s not “coming out”. As far as “DD” goes, you didn’t come out at all. In fact, as far as explaining that your husband does this for discipline… You just mis-directed them. Now, if they see your husband giving you a swat on the bottom, they’ll just think it’s sexual.
Fuck yeah, I’ve done this. I’ve had this exact conversation. It’s no big deal. In fact–I’ve WANTED to misdirect my vanilla friend so that they DIDN’T think that James was the HoH. I’ve gone that far. Hell, I even had a similar conversation with my father that went something like this:
KOREY: You guys [both of my parents] have been pretty cool about the whole erotica business I do.
DAD: Well, it’s no big deal. Sex is out there, and it’s not like you do porn or anything. At least you’re not doing anything Kinky. Like… Like what’s it called? BDSM and stuff.
KOREY: Oh no, Dad. I’ve published BDSM. Lots of it.
KOREY: It’s a big-seller, Dad.
DAD: But you’re not writing it or anything.
KOREY: Yeah I do… It sells.
DAD: … Oh. Okay. Well, you know your audience better than I do.
OUTCOME: If he ever does figure out I’m KMJ, and sees the books I’ve written, he can’t say he hasn’t been warned. Does he even assume I’m in a DD relationship? No. Does he think I write about SPANKING specifically? No. Does he think I’ve done BDSM myself? No. He doesn’t even think that. When I was twenty-two, I went out to a concert with him and his friends, somebody told a blow-job joke, and he put me at the center of attention by asking, “You don’t even get that joke, do you?” Being twenty-two, I had to say, “Dad, I know what a blow-job is. I live in Monmouth, not on Mars.” And then he turned red and felt very awkward, because I think he actually thought I didn’t know about any sexual positions except good ol’ missionary. (I’d been having sex since I was seventeen, with my high-school substitute teacher (who was only 3 years older than me, but that IS how I met him). Dad knew this… when I was seventeen. When my family went to Europe when during my senior year (in highschool) and left me behind because I had tests, he invited that same boyfriend over to keep me company and sleep in THEIR bed so we’d both be more comfortable (because it’s the only queen in the house). But Dad never lept to the conclusion that the three-year-older man wouldn’t teach me fellatio? Come on! But I digress…)
Physically, you know when you’re having a coming-out conversation because you come out of it so sweaty you need to shower, asap, and because everyone else looks interested but extremely uncomfortable. Word-wise, it will probably sound something like this:
YOUR FRIENDS: What? What? What do you mean against-the-rules? You’re [insert age here]. There’s no rules here. Who says?
YOU: My husband.
YOUR FRIENDS: So? Go tell him to shove his rules up his ass. Do it anyway. What’s he gonna do?
YOU (frustrated by now, because they won’t not let you not go to that nude-beach-party, they’ll hammer you, so you say the real reason for why your wet-t-shirt-contest days are over): He’d spank me, actually. I’d prefer not to court his wrath.
YOUR FRIENDS: What the fuck do you mean, he spanks you? That’s fucking abuse! He can’t spank you!
OUTCOME: You just turned an hour glass down on your friendship with these people. They’re “open-minded”. They like to sit and talk all day about how open-minded they are—so open minded that they’ve gone on hill tops shouting it. They’ve gone to sex clubs on Halloween just to see the insanity, they’ve gone to nude-beaches, etc, but they will NEVER understand domestic discipline.
In their minds, it’s already abuse. There’s nothing you can say that’s not going to sound like a battered wife saying that ‘she deserves’ her husband beating her.
Their opinion of you is lowered, and their opinion of your husband, the love of your life, has been decimated. They will hate him, they will give you bad counsel if you ever have a fight with him, they will do everything they can to get you away from him. Eventually you will get sick of it, sick of the way they treat him and the way they talk to you, and you’ll stop hanging out with them. You’ll see that their relationships aren’t any better, and probably much worse, than your own, and the last thing you need is their advice and the last thing you want is their sympathy when you have everything you want in life.
A lot of times, the conversation with these friends will look like this, but the outcome will be the same:
YOUR FRIEND: I wish I had a relationship like yours. It seems like you and your husband are so intimate and cute and he actually pays attention to you. What’s your secret?
YOU: Well… Believe it or not, my husband and I have a Domestic-Discipline relationship. He’s the Head-of-my-Household, he makes rules, I follow them, and then I get spanked if I don’t. (You might go onto explain that you don’t fight so often because of this. Hard decisions actually have a way of being solved, you move on from issues that have been discussed rather than letting them spoil your relationship, and your husband is very hard-working and thinks of you first because he’s trying to set a good example for you. At this point, you’ve already lost her. She got lost right at the word Discipline or at least, Spanking. Later, head of household).
OUTCOME: Is the same as the first conversation. When your friend asked for relationship advice and said that your relationship was better, that was before she knew about the DD. Her opinion of your relationship went from Healthy to Abusive just that fast. She no longer likes your husband, in fact, she now fears him. She will never ask you to talk about your relationship again unless she’s depressed and needing a pick-me-up served as “Well, at least I don’t have her abusive relationship. Mine suddenly doesn’t look that bad.” Eventually you’ll realize this, and then you’ll find a best-friend who doesn’t make you feel like your marriage is something to be ashamed of.
Of course not. It sometimes works out amazingly well. I mean, amazing as in there’s no awkwardness and now you can talk about your relationship all you want, and it’s no big deal.
Right now, the only time it’s worked out is when we told James’ baby sister. She knows. She knows everything about everything we do, and she didn’t even bat an eye. She’s like a rock. And because of this, I feel so much closer to her. I decided that that’s it–she’s family now. She’s my sister, not just my in-law. She’s the coolest chick I know. I enjoy liking her. I enjoy hearing about her day. I enjoy that I can be totally candid with someone for once. I feel utterly protective of her, I love her to death, and if she’s not happy, I’m not happy. It sounds ridiculous, maybe, but because she was the only person I’ve told who reacted in a non-negative way, I feel grateful, relieved, and I actually look forward to it when she comes visiting, like she will next week. She never made any claims that she was open-minded, but her actions speak louder than words.
Though even then I think it worked because she loves her big brother, looks up to him, and she knows that he wouldn’t beat me, that he’s not abusive, and he’s a good guy. I didn’t have to convince her of anything on that account; she’s known him all her life.
Let’s just say it’s easier to get your husband’s friends and family to accept it far, far more than your own. It’s not that you should tell his side BEFORE you come out to your side, it’s that you probably should come out to his side INSTEAD of your side.
I just thought I’d put this post out there for people who know I’m in a DD relationship like them, and they’re filled with a measure of hope because they hate keeping such a major part of their lives hidden from their family and friends, and want to come out about it. They think that because I do spanking work full-time, I must be “out of the closet”.
I hate to kill hope, I can’t give them the advice they want or tell them it’s all gonna end in bubble-gum and lollipops after they just get who they are and what they do off their chests.
You see, I’m a hermit. I almost have no friends anymore, and I do a lot of mysterious conversation-diversion away from myself to avoid talking about anything I do. I allow people to think I’m not successful at all and sit at home all day eating bon-bons and watching television. I lie to a lot of people’s faces, and I tell a lot of half-truths. I hate it, I hate that I have to do that, and I’m lonely most of the time. I go to Spanking Parties just to be “OUT” for a goddamned weekend and feel what it’s like to feel like everyone else does: like they’re not hiding this deep, dark secret. It feels fantastic, but I’m still not going to come out to everyone because I’ve been bitten in the ass a few times by it.
Do I regret DD? To I regret being a spanko? Hell no–I love James. I’d lay down in traffic for James, and James and I wouldn’t have ever even met if we weren’t both spankos who favored DD relationships/lifestyle and wanted it a part of our lives. It’s not a choice, anyway–being a spank-o is built in deep to my genes, and my DD relationship is a key ingredient as to why our relationship is so strong. Without this part of my life, I wouldn’t be ME. For now, I just have to wait, be patient, and hope that my world fills with other people like me or at least like my sis-in-law.
My family has a saying, “If you don’t want a crocodile to come and bite you, don’t hang your ass over them.” So to those of you ladies who want to go for it, allow me to cheer you on. I wish you all the luck in the world, because unfortunately you’re going to need all that luck.
You like to read spanking stories; if you’re here, that’s pretty much a given. But there’s no way I can know if you’ve ever experienced a spanking, live in a spanking household, or if it’s simply a fantasy for you to indulge in now and then. I can’t know what gives you the warm fuzzies or maybe the willies.
One thing that sometimes makes a reader go hmmmm, is the tool used for the spanking in the book. Many authors – myself included – try to change up the implements from one spanking to another. There’s nothing so perfect as the tried-and-true male palm against a turned-up fanny, but variety adds a level of fun and fantasy. Are these tools ever used in reality?
Yes! Let’s take wooden spoons, for example. Nearly every household with a kitchen has a wooden spoon. Have you ever had your fingers swatted while your mother or significant other was stirring something? Imagine that on your bottom. Ouch.
Spatulas are also handy. Though I don’t use the metal kind in my books (I’d be concerned about possible cuts), I do include spanking scenes with silicone spatulas and wooden spatulas. They make a particular unmistakable thunk sound. If you’re not ready to experience it on your tush, then try it on your palm. You’ll hear what I mean.
Household implements are key ingredients in spanking stories, and they’re not limited to kitchen items. I wrote a scene where a hero looks around a guestroom in his father’s home and spies a long-handled plastic shoehorn. I didn’t make this up out of thin air, either. I actually saw it in a doctor’s office, innocently leaning against a doorjamb – all eighteen inches of it! It made a great and different spanking tool in the book. Have I ever experienced it myself? No. It didn’t seem appropriate to try it out in the exam room at the doctor’s office. But it was different and fun and had my imagination going.
Which leads me to the notion of reality in fiction. Do real people use spatulas, leather-soled slippers, spoons, and leather bag straps to spank the person they care about? Based on my own experience, and many conversations with other spanking authors and persons involved in Domestic Discipline relationships, I’d have to say yes. Although we all crave the intimacy of the hard palm, there is something deliciously scary when you first see his belt being removed from its loops, or his hand grasping that soft-leather-soled slipper and heading toward you! It’s the kind of scary you get with roller coaster rides; you know you’re safe, but this might be the one-in-a-million chance you’ll be tossed out of the car. Or, in this case, spanked until you’re black and blue. No one wants injury, but you have to have a lot of trust to submit to a spanking that isn’t a hand spanking. And yet, people do it all the time.
When you’re reading spanking books, do you think about how you’d personally be affected by the use of an implement? Would it be scarier? Would it be more titillating? Would you run screaming from the room? Are there any creative spanking implements you’ve thought about but never read about? Do tell; you might find them in my next book!
Thank you, Korey, for having me here today. It’s a pleasure to work with someone as professional and friendly as you.
My latest release is Journey’s End. It’s the final pre-planned book in the Journey series, although I reserve the right to add to the series as I have with an Easter story and a Valentine’s novella.
Here’s the blurb for Journey’s End:
Well-loved housekeeper and substitute mama, Consuelo, is hospitalized in this sixth of the Journey family books. The Journey family is torn up about it, especially Leo Journey, patriarch of the clan.
Leo’s extreme upset trickles through the family, and causes a rift between his eldest son Ace and him, that has everyone worried about the fate of Journey’s End, the family ranch. All the siblings rally around to try to fix this breach and get Journey’s End and Ace and Leo back on track. They can’t help wondering why Leo is so much more emotional than they’ve seen since their mother died some twenty years before.
Throughout it all, the Journey siblings and their mates share the deep love and affection that is so much a part of the Journey way of living. And, somehow, there’s always someone needing a good, hard spanking, often followed by good, hard loving.
Join the Journeys for this series conclusion. Find out what happens at Journey’s End.
Four short years ago today, I got to marry the love of my life. He saw me coming down the aisle and didn’t turn and book it like he probably should have, but for my own part, I couldn’t be happier. He gets sexier every single damn year, and he becomes more and more of the cornerstone of my life every day. He’s not just a lover that fulfills my desires until I catch my breath, James is also my teacher, my confidant, my brother-in-our-faith, but he’s also my best friend. I couldn’t live without him.
As some of you already know, I met James over 5 years ago on Spanko.net when I wasn’t even looking for a long-term boyfriend. James just took my breath away. I had an unexplainably good feeling about him right away, enough that I told my career to go screw itself and moved all the way down to Texas to be with him. At the time I would just shrug and say, “Well, it’s the best thing I’ll ever do, or the stupidest.” But I knew then, with every bone in my body, that I was making the right decision.
I once was lamenting to my mother in law that God made me a Spanko. She was obliged to take offense at first, but here’s my reason that I was quick to give her: Being a spanko is not a blessing, not from a young age. To hide what you are for so many years is unbearable, to be ashamed of what you think, how you are, what you desire, for that many years, was miserable. I wondered why I was born this way, why I was this way. It was a hardship for me–I felt like being a Spanko was some sort of condition, like a disease and I hated myself for it. I was humiliated for myself.
But when I met James, it felt like it all made sense. It was fate. I was meant to be “into spanking” because I was meant to be there for James to IM me. It was the thing that hooked us together even though we grew up in separate states. It was the first foundation to our relationship–domestic discipline, with him in charge. We joke that we arranged our own marriage because we made so many decisions and moved in together not knowing much about each other, but knowing that we would grow to love each other, and that DD could work, and it would help bring us together and make us happy. And it worked.
I did fall in love with James, and then he fell in love with me, and spanking kept us from quarreling or making resenting each other. We lived and still live only to make each other proud and happy. We let ourselves like things that the other liked, sometimes with difficulty at first but then with sincerity. We share a love for the same foods, we have the same friends, we love quoting stupid movies every two seconds, we’re even of the same faith now. We miss each other even when he has to go to work for the day.
Four years ago, I just remember thinking that I couldn’t be more in love with James than I was right at that moment. I was so, so wrong! I love him a bizillion times more now than I did then. I love going to sleep with him spooning behind me every night, and then he’s always the first thing I see when I roll over in the morning, and we say, “How blessed we are!”
Was it easy at first? No. It took a lot of nut-grabbing and fear-swallowing. We weren’t sure of ourselves, we were scared, we were afraid we’d look back on this whole thing and call ourselves stupid. But we overcame all of that and made it happen. Now I couldn’t imagine any life in any universe or at any time without him. I’m so grateful of everything in my life that sped me up, slowed me down, gave me grief or joy, anything that put me where I was: on the path to meet him.
But don’t let my mushiness put you off, because I’ll end with this: Thank God for making me a Spanko; it was the most painful part about me and now I see that it was the gift that would lead me to James better than any compass It was been a wonderful, wonderful four years, and I’m looking forward to the next sixty.
Have you ever heard a really classic mantra? One that is not fact, but said so often that the reciter of this mantra apparently thinks it’s factual. Mostly because the mantra itself has one fact depending on another “fact”. Eventually, what they’re saying even sounds–in a messed-up way–logical. Just because they’re putting these “facts” into a classic logic format.
My favorite all-time mantra is from “Idiocracy”, where a man wakes up in the future and realizes that humans are dying out from their own stupidity. They’re wondering why they can’t get plants to grow and the main character realizes that they’re watering the plants with an energy drink called “Brawndo”, and not water. When he asks why, they say, “Because it has electrolytes, which what plants crave.”
When he asks if they know what electrolytes are, they say, “Electrolytes are what plants crave.”
Admittedly, I don’t understand science myself. That’s why I married a scientist—so things could be dumbed down for me. What I do understand, however, is people’s tendency to spout bullshit, just to have something clever to say.
I get spanked for reciting mantras all the time. James has this funny rule about not saying anything that I haven’t learned myself from a credible source.
When it comes to what women want, though, I’m one of the professionals. Knowing what women want is sort of my job. I have never applied to the Steve Jobs rule of, “People don’t know what they want until you show it to them.” No, with publishing, they know what they want. You just have to put it in front of them so they can finally have it. With women, it’s spanking books. A lot of women didn’t know they existed until 50 Shades came out.
Now why do women want spanking books?
THIS is the question that has sprung up more mantras than anything has since Galileo looked into his microscope and discovered something very inconvenient.
My opinion is that women want spanking books for a more “clean” purpose than is widely belivieved, but there’s a few mantras out there that make that opinion–based on fact–as completely incredible.
One of my favorite mantras that go against my argument sounds something like this: “Spanking is inherently sexual, since women can’t possibly want it in a non-sexual way. Hence, anything that promotes adult spanking is porn, since porn is about all things sexual…”
Thank you, Logics Class, for that shining example of Fact A + Fact B = Fact C = Fact B + Fact D.
None of those facts can hold up, though, so it’s really sad that Fact C is so acceptable in modern society.
SO acceptable, in fact, that I have been chewed out by my mother-in-law and others for toting “Pornography” to poor unsuspecting women by selling any sort of book that contains an adult man spanking an adult woman. Don’t get me wrong–I love my mother-in-law. She’s really amazing and the fact that she knows that we sell spanking fiction and live a DD lifestyle and still talks to us is more than many can boast. But still, she has her opinions… And she fears I might be leading you all to hell by creating you all as sexual deviants through spanking.
The lecture goes something like this:
MIL: I just don’t want you to lead women down a bad path by selling books that have sexual content, thereby making them lust. Lust is wrong. Bible says so.
KOREY: Actually Ma, He says not to covet. The only time where he says it’s wrong to lust was when one man tried to take another man’s wife. I’m not telling women in covet, I just put spankings in books. Sex doesn’t even have to be involved. Some of our books our non-sexual but they just contain some discipline scenes.
MIL: Which they’re taking in a sexual way, of course!
Note that I don’t think there’s anything wrong with women reading erotica—not at all! I think it’s the best thing in the world for a woman to charge herself up and bring it back to their husband. Not the point I’m making TODAY, though.
KOREY: Some people, yeah. But some of them actually just like the romance build up between a dominant man and a woman’s journey in getting herself to submit to him.
MIL: Which is sexual. Which is porn. You’re toting porn!
KOREY: Sigh. So you think it’s wrong for a man to spank a woman?
MIL: Yes, because it’s always sexual.
KOREY: Do you think it’s wrong to submit to your husband?
MIL: No. Jesus tells women to submit to their husbands.
KOREY: Okay, so if a woman is going to drive drunk, and the man tells her not to…
MIL: Well, she shouldn’t drive drunk, anyway.
KOREY: Let’s just say we’re living in a non-perfect world where a woman won’t give the man her keys. Do you think she should just obey her husband’s order, especially since it’s for her own safety?
MIL: Well, yes.
KOREY: And what if she doesn’t want to? Even if she could get in an accident and hurt both of them—at least monetarily?
MIL: Then she’s a bad wife.
KOREY: And so they should divorce?
MIL: No. Divorce is a sin.
KOREY: So what should he do? Since when people are married one can make bad desions that effect both parties?
MIL: Reason with her.
KOREY: And if she still doesn’t want to obey him? She’s drunk, you know!
MIL: He should keep reasoning.
KOREY: And if he fails, she gets behind the wheel and kills a couple of school kids.
MIL: He should just force the keys out of her hand.
KOREY: Like wrestle them away? What if he breaks her arm or something when she’s trying to keep the keys?
MIL: That’s her own fault.
KOREY: So you think his accidentally breaking something is better than him ON PURPOSELY causing her non-lasting, non-harmful discomfort?
KOREY: So spanking might be okay in this situation.
KOREY: So somebody writes this situation down…
MIL: Then it’s porn.
KOREY: Because the reader is sexually stimulated when reading it?
KOREY: Who says? There’s nothing sexual going on here. Just a man taking the keys away from his ridiculous wife.
MIL: Because spanking is sexual. <– THE MANTRA AGAIN.
KOREY: But we just went over this! The situation’s not sexual. It’s a man forcing his wife to obey him!
MIL: Yes, but when it’s written down, someone might read it sexually, making it porn.
KOREY: Some people are turned on by a woman’s SHOES. Say I write about a woman taking off her shoes and her husband massages her feet. Should that be read as porn? Some people are gonna read into that…
MIL: Don’t be ridiculous. Who would want to read about spanking in a non-sexual way?
KOREY: So as long as I don’t put sex in the book, it’s okay?
MIL: No, because you’re putting spanking in the book, and spanking is sexual, and sexual activity is porn. (If they don’t use the mantra three times in an argument, the mantra is not living up to its potential.)
KOREY: Oh, no. I suddenly have a migraine…
Let’s face it—the only reason spanking has been so sexualized is because it’s so taboo. The only reason it’s taboo is because the feminist movement has made it Taboo… RECENTLY. They want women and men to be on equal footing where one is NEVER ahead of the other, and marriage is more like a roommate situation than a romantic relationship. Everyone can do what they want without telling the other what they can and cannot do.
What’s interesting is there’s a generational gap in place, here. I’m talking and arguing to the generation that created the feminist movement, when I am from the generation out to swing the pendulum the other way. More of my generation is interested in having a dominant male than theirs.
“As it happens, the prevailing stereotype of the Fifty Shades of Grey reader, distilled in the condescending term “mommy porn,” as an older, suburban, possibly Midwestern woman isn’t entirely accurate: according to the publisher’s data, gleaned from Facebook, Google searches, and fan sites, more than half the women reading the book are in their 20s and 30s, and far more urban and blue state than the rampant caricature of them suggests.” –Newsweek, Working Women’s Fantasies, April 16, 2012 by Katie Roiphe
MY generation, Generation X and Y, know that roommate-esque relationship is on-its-head farcicle and has translated to arguments which then have resulted divorces—I barely know anyone whose parents made it through the 90s.
Because of this, I think women of my generation are beginning to pull back the pendulum. We know what we want—a man that’s more responsible than we are.
“It is intriguing that huge numbers of women are eagerly consuming myriad and disparate fantasies of submission at a moment when women are ascendant in the workplace, when they make up almost 60 percent of college students, when they are close to surpassing men as breadwinners, with four in 10 working women now outearning their husbands, when the majority of women under 30 are having and supporting children on their own, a moment when—in hard economic terms—women are less dependent or subjugated than before.
It is probably no coincidence that, as more books like The Richer Sex by Liza Mundy and Hanna Rosin’s forthcoming The End of Men appear, there is a renewed popular interest in the stylized theater of female powerlessness. This is not to mention a spate of articles on choosing not to be married or the steep rise in young women choosing single motherhood. We may then be especially drawn to this particular romanticized, erotically charged, semipornographic idea of female submission at a moment in history when male dominance is shakier than it has ever been.” – Katie Raiphe, 2012
I recall sitting across the table from my friend who wanted a relationship with a man who would spank her, but mostly because she said, “I’d only let him spank me if he was more responsible than me… I want someone more responsible, not less.” She had been married already, even though she was only my age, and she said that her husband, while nice, acted like a child she had to take care of. “At work,” she said, “I like being in-charge. I like them to depend on me. At home, I’d rather have someone to depend on.”
In short, I don’t think it’s sexual fantasies that’s keeping people reading these male-dominant spanking books. It’s just fantasies in general! These girls are so tired of reality, they’re over burdened by responsibility. They’re not fantasizing about hot sex, they’re fantasizing about a FIRM HUSBAND.
Case in point—An Unexpected Husband by Constance Masters is doing great in sales and we don’t think it’s even come close to meeting its peak. It doesn’t contain heavy sexual overtones, really—it’s just about a man who gets a woman pregnant and demands to marry her and be the father. THAT is what my generation fantasizes about… A man who not only CAN be depended upon, but who DEMANDS to be, who wants that responsibility.
Women are fantasizing about a lifestyle, a type of man. I think 50 Shades is just touching on that desire; it’s the tip of an iceberg and talking about sexual desires, in this point of time, is easier than saying, “No… I like dominant men.” Especially after we’ve emasculated so many men than dominant men are hard to come by.
Anyway—that’s just some of my thoughts. But I’m nowhere done with this rant.
Good programmers are a myth, by the way. If they’re good, then they don’t have time for customer service, which makes them unavailable, which makes them bad programmers. Show me a good ecommerce programmer (and email me) and I’ll show you a man that has a job!
Okay, enough about your dull work life. I don’t even care that you work in the spanking industry. Let’s talk about spankings, already! Sheesh!
Okay, okay, okay. Fine.
I don’t know where to start. I’ve gotten so many spankings since Christmas, I don’t even know where to start! I mean, I get a spanking every single day anymore. It might be short, but it’s still there. Today, I believe, has been my first spanking-free day all week.
Details? Urgh! More like gripe. It’s that damn spanking diet. I gained back some weight when I was on vacation, and James came down upon me with more rules, regulations, and punishments that I can shake a stick at. I’m at 150 now… So, 4 pounds up… Again. And I really don’t think James is going to tolerate it any longer.
I got THE worst spanking EVER just this last Sunday. Mostly because I was eating cookies instead of lunch, eating “lunch” at 4 instead of before 1:30, and I barely ate breakfast. Oh—and I hadn’t written a thing down in my food journal all day.
James was exasperated as he watched me enjoy my cookie. Which is hard to do—I think my cutest moments are when I’m enjoying cookies. Cookies are like happiness you can chew.
Anyway, he asked me if I had eaten lunch. I looked sheepishly down at my cookie. There was about to be a reckoning, I knew it, because my eyes lit up with all the crap I didn’t do.
I think I go through periods of being absolutely the stupidest person on earth, is what the problem is. But he wasn’t listening to the fact that I was stupid. I don’t think things could have gone any worse than if I threw my cookie into his eye.
I was incredulous. He told me to go into the bedroom and take off all my clothes and put the paddle on the bed.
So, that’s a bad start. I was nearly hyperventilating—the paddle?! I had done something so wrong as to require the paddle?! Without driving home drunk or taking hard drugs? Because I think that’s the only time when I could understand the paddle. The paddle is a force which I still don’t know how to accept.
Yet, I obeyed before the sentencing could get any worse. I don’t know HOW it could get any worse, mind you, but I imagined that it could.
But, I have to admit, when he was lecturing me and listing the charges against me, I was nearly laughing. I was pretty ridiculous—and he was right—I wasn’t taking my diet seriously enough. Which is probably why, after 10 years now of trying, I have not been able to obtain my goal weight.
So, he pulled me over his lap… (We have a new position, by the way! He takes the pillows away from the headboard, sits with his back up against the headboard of the bed, and pulls me across his knees. His leg is actually easier to position across my legs and he’s better able to hold my arm in a way that it won’t fly back though he doesn’t have to twist my arm and risk hurting it. So, the pin-down works on all fronts.)
I was naked already so, needless to say, he didn’t warm me up by spanking over my panties like he occasionally does. He was spanking SO hard I was actually thinking that he was thinking about not using the paddle, after all. If he was going to use the paddle, I thought, why would he be spanking so hard? Okay—I wasn’t actually thinking—I was in crazed animal mode. But if I had been thinking, it would have been that. He was being dramatically thorough. He was getting my inner thighs, my upper thighs, in and out and all around—he was everywhere! My sitting area was just getting ruined.
And did I tell you about my beginning? Because I begged my ASS OFF. I was panicked before the spanking even began. I tried to think my way out of this situation. I understood I needed to be punished… But spanking? Why must it ALWAYS come to spanking? Aren’t there other punishments? I was a fountain of ideas—I’d heard of people getting grounded, or stripped away of privileges. Butt plugs? I’d have even taken an enema at that moment. I didn’t care. Anything but a paddling. Anyway—it was like negotiating with a wall. James had already made up his mind.
After the spanking ended, I had even considered escaping. Running to the car naked. Because, as soon as he finished and told me I could get up and stand in the corner, he told me, “This is just a small break before the paddling.”
It wasn’t over?! It… Wasn’t… Urgh! I was wishing I could faint on call. Maybe THAT would get him to loosen up. I wasn’t crying yet, but I was surprised that I wasn’t. Is it possible to be so mind-boggled by your punishment that you can’t really cry?
As I was thinking this, I was called out for “Round 2”. Oh! Why did I eat that cookie? I knew it wouldn’t quench my hunger! I had planned to eat a sandwich afterwards—why didn’t I switch the eating order? Why am I so brain-dead when remembering to update my food journal?! Why?
Personal pity-parties don’t make you feel any better about a paddling at-hand. They just make the whole thing even worse, somehow, like focusing on the “what I could have done” magnifies the whole situation. But I couldn’t help it. I just kept on thinking, “Why, why, why?!”
Because the paddle was every bit as terrifying as I remembered it. There’s nothing good about the sharp cracking feeling across my flesh. It’s like a lightning bolt against the ass. And he only gave me SIX—six horrible, ugly, gut-wrenching smacks. I don’t know what the neighbors were thinking about all this, but I KNEW they could hear me. Who couldn’t? YOU ALL probably heard me and only thought it was the wind. Because I was truly that loud.
When he sent me back into the corner, I practically ran there, trying to catch my breath. Again—no tears. Maybe I’m dysfunctional? Because it was the worst spanking I had in memory. I stood in my corner with my ass throbbing, thanking God that it was over. I was almost elated—no. I WAS DEFINITELY elated. I could sing songs. I was so scared, and now I was so warm, so wonderfully punished. It was behind me.
James cuddled me while I was in the corner, and then took a picture of my bottom (he’s been doing that all week—he wants to make a photo collection). I would post it, because I’m nearly proud of how red my ass was, but I still don’t like the look of my love-handles from behind so I’ll hold out.
Anyway, lots of spanking-blog to come, guys! Thanks for hanging with me!
Well, when it comes to the Spanking Diet… It’s been working FANTASTICALLY. I mean—wow.
So, when I came home from Thanksgiving in Portland, I weighted 154. Urgh.. BUT before I left for Galveston Island this weekend (James wanted me to go on a “date weekend” with him) I weighted 146. 146! To highlight the significance, ya’ll—I haven’t weighed 146 since high school. I was 151 when I went to college, and I felt like I looked pretty good—definitely better than in the middle of college when I weighed 185. Ouch.
So, AMAZING progress!
Has it been easy?
No, the spanking diet sucks. It’s really not something to enjoy, per se. It’s just something to do when all else fails. I’ve got my ass pounded on the last few weeks. There’s so much that can go amuck for me—I could forget to write down something I’ve eaten within an hour of eating it, I could not eat breakfast or lunch, I could eat too many servings of a meal or too many snacks or cookies, or I can just shoot James a horribly nasty glare when he gives me advice. All of that winds up the same way.
Sort of—if I mess up on a meal again, I’ll probably get the paddle next time. Or so James claims. It’s because he has to get stricter and stricter so I take high regard in this diet.
I don’t know how loudly I can complain. As I’ve said—it’s worked. Hallelujah.
Hopefully I’ll be at 130, my goal weight, before I know it.
Alright, so, you know you need to post more often right?
That fact has not eluded me. I’m at my in-laws right now, trying to type this out as fast as I possibly can, but I will get more into it. I’ve had so many spankings! So many thoughts! So many things are happening! I just wish I had a more secretive way of blogging that doesn’t require me hauling out by well-used 17-inch screened laptop.
I have to get going—everyone’s going out to lunch. I’ll add more later!
Alright—so. James and I won a free cruise to go on this Spring, and it’s my goal to wear nothing but bikinis and miniskirts the whole time. Although I haven’t been gaining any weight, my weight’s certainly not going down either, and like hell I’m going to wear anything sexy until I’m at my goal weight: 130.
I’ve been at 130 before and I think I looked very good there, though it’s possible that I may want to lose more when I get there. But still, that leaves me with about 20 pounds to lose.
Tonight, though filled with water, I weighed 151.1 pounds (in the morning I tend to weigh up to 5 pounds less).
Talking about the spanking diet with James was a challenge, because he knows my weight can fluxuate up to 8 lbs in a normal day—I don’t know why this is. Hormones? Water? The Devil? But whatever it is, it makes the “if you don’t lose weight at this time next week” rule very hard to enforce, because I could eat nothing and still gain 4 lbs by next week at this time. That’s just the way I am.
James and I have rattled around with the “Spanking Diet” idea for a long time. But it’s hard to enforce—things come up and I can’t exercise, or I forget to keep a food journal.
So, although James doesn’t need to lose weight at all, James still expects me to work out 5 times a week (if I’m feeling well) and to keep a FOOD JOURNAL. Which I’ve kept before, but they’re hard to keep track of. He’ll be keeping a food journal, too, just to make sure it is a possible feat and he’s not expecting something superhuman of me.
I should add that James hasn’t said anything about my weight at all. It’s just as good as when we first met—I’d gained weight for awhile, but then I lost it back to my original “meeting James” weight, which is where I am now.
Blah, blah, blah! Let’s bring this rambling escapade back to spanking. How can spanking help with a diet?
Well, that’s just what we’re looking into. Lots of people have lost weight on the spanking diet—just peek into the American Spanking Society and see—they have been rattling away at a Spanking Diet since I found their blog, and it looks like they’re doing great.
The idea in place is simple: if I don’t achieve my weight-loss goals, I get spanked. Pure and simple. A lot of people’s weight-loss goals are different; mine’s merely exercise and a journal. Others are sometimes rules like ‘losing so much weight every week’, but I can’t do that, as stated.
But to make this work, every time I come close to not obtaining those goals I’ll be realizing that my failures will result in a pink bottom, which is definitely a good motivator.
Where can it go wrong? Not with me, really—life will be very tough for me if I don’t follow my goals IF James follows through. SO the responsibility lies on James to enforce these rules, which is tougher than it sounds. James likes to spoil me, and he has to be really stern this time.
If it works, though—I will be one happy camper. Let’s just hope my butt doesn’t get too bruised on the way there!
I’ve told ya’ll before—If I don’t get a spanking for awhile, that doesn’t mean that when I DO get spanked, I won’t go through a time where I get spanked CONSTANTLY. I don’t quite understand this anomaly; all I can do is verify its existence.
The funny thing is when I find myself in the corner with my pants down and an incredibly sore bottom, I’m always surprised that I’m there. Not because I think I don’t deserve it… I just thought that since it had been 24 hours before doing something wrong, I was simply in the clear. Sort of like the thought that, “If a police car doesn’t chase you after a minute, he won’t chase you.” Fallacy.
I guess the reason why he didn’t do it before is that we both weren’t feeling well on movie night. But, the next day we, unfortunately were just fine.
So, for all you detail hounds, it wasn’t as bad as the one earlier this week. It was just over the knee, with his hand. In fact, a lot of it was over my panties. I think that was a reward for not arguing much. When I was doing what I was doing to get a spanking, I knew I had done something wrong, and I regretted it. I was thinking the spanking would, in fact, relieve me of some the guilt—and it did.
Alright. My interested is peaked. What did you do this time, Korey?
Some of you assume I’m worse than I am—that I get spankings every day and then do the spanking celebration dance because I like them SO much. But that’s just not so. I rarely get spanked as discipline. I get a slap on the ass about 50 times a day, and every time we have sex, a fun little spanking will somehow scurry into our picture, but discipline spankings are not fun affairs, and are certainly not frequent.
Just the other day we realized that I hadn’t gotten a discipline spanking since we were in Santa Fe. That was in the beginning of September, folks. I mean, I’d gotten a couple of stern smacks, but not an over-the-knee sort of session that I most un-enjoy.
Of course we were both thinking the same thing at that time—that I’m “due”. Not officially, or anything, only we realized I can’t go too long without messing something up pretty royally where I don’t really have an excuse.
Did this happen on your anniversary? Woof!
No! Our anniversary was on Sunday, and it was wonderful. We can be very romantic when we try. We cooed at each other while we filled ourselves with fondue for about 3 hours. It really was lovely.
My spanking happened last night—Monday. I was in a horrible mood all day, so if you were to go back in time and informed me that I was about to get spanked, I would have no trouble believing you. Normally when I’m depressed, I walk right into one. When I’m depressed I hate myself, I hate everyone else, I hate my life, I hate who I am and what I can do and why anyone would ever put up with me. I was having a day LIKE THAT. And so, normally all the negativity makes me say something that causes me to upend over James’ knee.
Not because James would EVER discipline me for being depressed—he knows that’s probably not the best way of fixing me. If I get a spanking when depressed, it’s because he wasn’t understanding that I was in a sad mood, and only interprets my crazy actions as… well, craziness or meanness not something I’m doing because I’m sad—James is actually really good about being nice to me when I’m feeling fragile.
Despite the history, THAT’s not even why I got a spanking yesterday. It was because we looked a long time for a lighter and couldn’t find one. Isn’t that funny? Of course, if we can’t find something, it’s my fault.
You can’t find something, and therefore it’s YOUR fault? James is pretty strict…
No, no. James just realizes that I like to hide objects out of view in the house. It’s ALWAYS me. Once in a while, I would LOVE James to be the “misplacer” just to make life interesting. But it never is. It’s always me. I hide mail, magazines, newspapers, small objects, medication, toothbrushes, or anything at all that is just “left out”. I normally feel rushed when I’m doing this, and so I don’t break my back trying to figure out where all this stuff goes.
Which is fine—we have a clean house. BUT we can’t find anything. We spend HOURS looking for the crap I’ve misplaced constantly. I’ve placed our cat’s eye drops in my birth-control bag, once. I mean—it’s bad.
But, REALLY, James wouldn’t want to spank me for something he’s not positive is my fault, though, so he waits until he found, while looking for the lighter, his missing sunglasses in my sock drawer. How they got there? I don’t know.
So, James called me into the bedroom, and told me to take off my jeans. He had been very smooth with me all night; so much so, I didn’t really take any of this seriously. So I pulled off my pants, thinking he was just going to give me a few slaps, fondle my ass a bit, then let me up.
I was mistaken.
I *realized* I was mistaken when James slid my belt out of my pants. He did this probably because, unless James is going to a business conference, James does not wear them. He also probably did this because this is not my first punishment for this offense.
My composure went very quickly from giggly and aroused to whiney and concerned.
It started out with a vicious hand spanking—one where I thought he was definitely favoring my left cheek. It went on forever. He was talking—he always talks, and he wanted me to respond. It was something about how I need to remember where I put things and put things where they’re supposed to go, and if they don’t have a place to make one and keep it consistent. And stuff.
And then he grabbed my belt and immediately started spanking with it without much ado, and then he stopped. “You have GOT to start staying more still,” he said. “This would already be done if you didn’t fight so much.”
He says this like I can help it.
“I’m giving you twenty more with the belt.”
With number two he got my hand. I don’t know why he feels he much announce it—it just makes things worse. I know when I give blood, the nurse never says, “Alright. I’m about to put in the needle. Watch.” No. They just do it. They just stab you and get it done. Maybe if he did that, my hands wouldn’t be so quick to go back there and get themselves injured.
And then it was all over. I wasn’t crying—but I was put into the corner with my pants down and shirt lifted to think about it before I was able to survey what the damage was. And there was QUITE some redness going on.
Now, as I’ve mentioned before, James doesn’t ever get fresh during the punishment, but afterwards it does turn him on a little when he’s thinking about it generally, or looking at a pink bottom in a corner. So, James later said that it was the cutest spanking I’d ever gotten, and if he knew where the camera was, he would have taken a picture. But, again—only I knew where the camera was. J
I was watching one of my favorite shows, 30-Rock, and they make fun of this “Catch Phrase” where they list a common complaint of a man and say it’s a “deal breaker”. IE: If your man wears a big diamsond necklace that says “Pussy” on it—that’s a Deal-Breaker, Ladies!” It’s equivalent to Jeff Foxworthy’s “Redneck” jokes, but as I was watching, I couldn’t help but realize that there’s so many “deal breakers” that happen in our community, as well. Here’s a few.
Askin’ More Than He’s Doin’? – That’s a DD Deal-Breaker, Ladies!
Many women get taken advantage of as soon as she makes it quite obvious that she’s a submissive, and wants a dominant boyfriend/husband. What happens is they think they can boss you around, because as soon as you say anything, than you’re being “uppity” and “need a spanking”. Don’t let them get away with this. A TRUE HOH will never ask more of you than he does of himself—ever. He’s a problem fixer—not a problem dealer.
Is he spendin’ your dough instead of savin’ your dough? That’s a DD Deal-Breaker, Ladies!
I know that you keep hearing “Carpe Diem”, with Oprah and those like her saying that you need to “live in the moment”. And it’s true—you should. But always be mindful of the future—it’s not going away just because you’re ignoring it. A good HOH will not spend all your money on a video game and then gasp when you buy a nice pair of shoes. He SHOULD monitor your spending, but he should also be monitoring his own. That doesn’t mean be cheap—it means be frugal—wisely frugal. A good HOH always has future goals that he knows will come and when that time comes, you shouldn’t have to worry about it, because the HOH has already made proper provisions.
Is he grippin’ school by the fingernails? That’s a DD Deal-Breaker, Ladies!
I see this happen a lot because James is still in Grad school. It’s disconcerning to me James is working as hard to get through as quickly as possible, while still making sure that he has enough experience and connections so that he can easily get a job when he is finished, but there’s so many that seem like they would be satisfied being in school forever. And it’s not just the aerospace department—my friend has the same problem who’s a biology grad student—he’s been working on his masters for YEARS now. Ph.Ds take a long time, but if they’re full-time students, it should NOT take more than eight years (That’s six years after undergrad; 10 years in college total).
A lot of the reason why they do this is because they’re afraid of that next step, they’re afraid of the real-world, they’re afraid of making decisions and they’re afraid of leaving their friends, and the girlfriend/wife/children be damned. It’s selfish and immature. A good HOH will always put the needs of his family above his own personal desires and fears. Always.
This will hopefully be a repeating series. For you DD-dreamers, check back soon for more reality-check deal-breakers. It’s important that before you ask someone to be an HOH, for them to ALREADY be an HOH. You can’t change a man.