Sunday, 27 April 2008

The Question of Discipline

Recently my Disciplinarian asked me to review and articulate to him about what discipline meant to me and I thought I would share some of it here.

It is a curious thing having been someone that had been resistant to, and almost disregarding of rules through the earlier part of my life. I was rather naughty at school, not in a fighting and bratty way, but in a very quietly strong-willed way. I was described in my school report at age 11 as " having a problem with authority " !

Rules meant nothing to me if they were being imposed by someone I didn't respect, or if they were rules that made little sense. Rules were something that I could exert my individuality against or lash out at when I was feeling hurt. Pushing them away or nudging them over with no consequences made me feel better, for a little while anyway, and then I'd feel rather empty. Like an attempt at self-expression but I wasn't really expressing myself very well at all. I think around that age I didn't really recognise that rules were there to look after me and others. Later on I think I really did start to notice rules but continued to not TAKE notice of them as a way of being quite self-destructive.

I have found that for me to acknowledge and want rules I need to feel that I deserve to have them. I have grown from being very ambivalent towards them, to recognising them and seeing value in them at a distance but still rejecting them personally, to now, finally accepting them into my personal life. They have come to represent me wanting to look after myself better, acknowledging that I deserve that and therefore deserve discipline, but most importantly now when I might push up against them, there is someone there to hold them up, and that gives rules a whole other quality.

Now I adore having rules. They are rules that I know are helpful to me and to moving my life in the direction that I want it to go. They help me to be a better person and they give a clear way of getting feedback on when I have done things well or need to do things better. I do sometimes still push against them of course! ( my naughty streak is still bubbling away! ) but having someone stand so lovingly and firm when I push against them makes me feel much safer and more considerate. Knowing that my Disciplinarian is there raises the bar and expectation I have of myself and want for myself and it gives me clearly defined ways to make myself and him proud.

Maybe life feels more complex now as an adult too, which is not a complaint because I love the variation of my working life, but having rules gives me a very solid structure, familiarity and security which allows me be free and exploratory and adventurous from its platform.

What has been most amazing for me about embracing rules is that I have found someone to set rules with me, for me, and that someone is a person I love and respect, which in turn makes me feel very loved and cared for.

Of course, having the consequence of a good smacked bottom should I break them is also what makes this work!

Saturday, 26 April 2008

That first time across his knee

I had arrived for lunch, actually to deliver an invitation by hand, and was enjoying a rather delicious vegetable chilli ( I can say that from what I have tasted, he is a very good cook! ), and we were talking and the energy in the room, start with it was just vibrant, that energy when 2 people are just excited to be in one another's company.....then it became a little more difficult to concentrate on my food. That feeling that someone is watching you with more intensity than normal, almost studying you - but rather than it feeling intrusive my embarrassment nudged at me playfully and jolted me more nervously inside and I couldn't eat anymore.

Very matter-of-factly he asked me to come and stand beside him, I faltered, but only for a second because that tone of voice, and those kind but commanding eyes captivated me. And most striking was the feeling of wanting to be obedient. That doesn't mean to say that the thoughts of " he can't be serious?!.".... or " this isn't really going to happen is it? ".... didn't race through me, because they absolutely did, along with the butterflies tumbling in my tummy...but his steadfastness was both unnervingly absolute and also strangely comforting.

I stood there quietly, trying to breathe and to hide my face which I was certain would give far too much away. And he very calmly but purposefully told me to raise my skirt.

Standing beside him with my tights and knickers on show seemed a million miles away from where we had been just 10 minutes ago, chatting and eating lunch.

The knots of anticipation,nerves, disbelief and utter embarrassment were overwhelming, and when he placed his hand on the seat of my tights that very first time, and just rested it there on my bottom, it felt like he encased all of those feelings into a safe and joyful place, and as he lead me into the next room to put me across his knee I knew a door to a very special place had opened.

That was my very first spanking, 2 and half years ago and it still makes me catch my breath now - I think partly because it was so unplanned and spontaneous and I really was " taken in hand " in the most empathic and masterful way, but also remembering how natural it felt ( but still hugely embarrassing! ), and I do feel a little bit wiggly on my chair now ( blush! )...

Friday, 25 April 2008

About time

I feel rather naughty starting this blog and not having contributed at all to any of the blogs for the various people I do professional work with, despite their requests. However this blog feels the most natural way to start practicing blogging as it is at the core of who I am.

It would be easy to let that nervous and annoyingly self-conscious voice in my head stop me - it is there now saying " you can't write", " you have nothing interesting to say", " there are already a million and one other blogs", so I just tried to throw that voice a look ( a little like the look I gave my Disciplinarian a few weeks ago when he kept insisting I look in the mirror to re-tie my school tie properly ) and now that the voice is quiet for a moment I can say back to it..

"Maybe it is not important that it IS different but I know that what makes it different is that it is me. I really am not a great writer, but I do have a story and an imagination, and experiences to share that I hope will be both useful to others and make them smile. "